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#also the way I have to search up what the Hermes one smells like because I just can’t get anything from the name lolol
berthelsen95helbo · 2 years
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fake designer handbags 4
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secondhand-trash · 3 years
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hi xiao c i only just realized all my perfumes r floral based scents LMAO. hermes un jardin sur la lagune w omi 😛 and jo malone osmanthus blossom w hui 😛
Omi:
Hui:
(Send me a character + your favourite scent and I’ll give you a song I’ve been playing on repeat!)
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smndragon · 3 years
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GODS AND HOW THEY AFFECT PEOPLE PT 2
PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOYED IM SO TIRED
Okay, so we established this is a possibility that they associate and gift their talents and eyes to people living. If you haven't seen that post it's on my master list/pinned post.
Gotta thank @i-would-marry-thunderhead though they didn't try they helped me find a missing piece on what I was looking for.
More thanks to @medusa12346 and @tulatodivine for helping me find the click to read more thing, I'm new so😶
It's not random. As planets rule zodiacs, it's know some gods rule them, and it's not just planets as not all mythology and religion is based on planetary stuff. For example, if Ares rules mars and Mars rules Aries. People with Aries in their chart are gifted some of the small things Ares has.
So here are the planets and what they rule along with some things the gods may gift you Greek and Roman style. If you would like other gods please ask I'm not well versed in many others it's been a while since I've researched.
Links (minor searching sorry it's late I also may have to finish readings tommorow though I do have to go somewhere so sorry): Wikipedia gods and planets ruling with this link there is also more religions and gods with planets so if you're interested look into it.
More on the planets and gods in longer versions
What zodiacs the planets rule
Let me clarify Wikipedia is not always trustworthy but my research will be short tonight.
Preferably they will be within the big 3 but there are also minor things to look into I can't remember all of a sudden I REMEMBER
Basically depending on if it's the sun, moon, or ascendant. These emotions could come out at certain times or moments
SUN:
Apollo seems to be talked about with the sun but it also looked like Helios was the main with Apollo helping out at times or more often so they'll both be here ig: like said they rule the sun and the sun rules Leo (guessed it lol ily guys) some gist given to you Leo charted people you may be gifted with the ability to partially know if something is a 'yes or no' you may get deja Vu at times as signs from Apollo. You are also of course gifted with the ability to look good in gold. Other things could be his beauty, tanned skin, gut senses, nice legs, running and etc I can't remember
From Helios you may be gifted with good sight and vision, strong feet I feel idk?, And so far strong connection to growing things (will maybe add more if found)
OKAY this is gonna be a while.
MOON:
Artemis and Selene (of course her) rule over the moon which rules over Cancer. Possible talents and gifts are animal connections, animal eyes watching over you as companions, medical knowledge, natural medicines also, Excellence in athletics Kirk archery and stuff to do with jumping.
Selene gifts you oohhh it's possible you could slide some Helios gifts here to because they're siblings apparently. I see youth, strong arms, strength (not overboard remember), elegant style in clothing, and the moons watch during the night.
To clarify, there also things to think of like planet aspects and fuck the numbers the tilt or some shit uhyy yeah that will tell how strong these abilities may be.
MERCURY: all this got deleted guys ughhh
Hermes rules mercury which is both surprising and not. Mercury rules Gemini and Virgo (who is also associated with Chiron). Possible gifts include running, determination, medium abilities (determined by what I stayed above also on strength), probably funny ass jokes. Fly, you're just gonna be fly af. Hermes was a very important god to me, he also signifies glory, domination, and success full filled to me so yeah. The ability to soother the people around you with either your voice or your touch, clear or nice voice.
VENUS: WHY ARE THERE 3 HERE?!!??!? I wanted to include the goddess Venus but we'll see😭
Aphrodite rules Venus understandably, Venus rules Taurus and Libra I believe. Possible talents and gifts are of course beauty, loved eyes, this so kind weird but musical talent, telepathy (little), birds as helpers (as in messengers to the clouds or many realms), possible skill for design.
I saw a name called cypris but I'm not sure that's true I looked into it just a bit and found someone named Cypress I don't know if they're related but I believe it's possible? Other names are Cyparissus or Kyparissos. They were liked or loved by Apollo. It's not big but what I read was interesting.
There was also a Cytherea, this was probably an alias or second name given or that of Aphrodite, knowing this there was also a place called Cyprus which leads me to believe Cypris was another alias or typo.
MARS:
As talked about before. Most of us know they rules over Mars, mars rules over Aries. Possible gifts could include determination (he may have been a little cowardly which makes sense as an Aries sun with my shyness), strength, talent in art or drawing idk why I just feel that, piano (also applies to Sagittarius ppl honestly), understanding languages also possibly? Crafty with tools and objects, tactic smart in small ways.
JUPITER:
I saw the name Dias which I wasn't sure on, Dias I believe is another alias and modern name for Zeus. Zeus rules Jupiter and Jupiter rules Sagittarius so thats also no surprise. Gifts and talents may be swimming, science, young literature and old, an eye for good things, blessings through touch (more on a topic I'll bring up later not strong here), dancing, hunting, generosity, a promise of children. I feel many people with Zeus or Ares in their chart may have been accused as witches in those centuries. (Random) that'd all I get right now
FOUR MORE
SATURN:
It said Cronus, I knew him as chronos (hit chronological order) which may have been wrong. He can go by that cronos, or kronos. He rules Saturn and Saturn rules Capricorn which also is understandable with relations between them. Talents and gifts may include: I feel like y'all may have thought you were telekinetic when you were younger💀, I see ginger hair here also, sticky fingers (stealth), time control (as in good with keeping time on track), perception of lies (the man was fooled right? True but I feel it's still smth small), faithfulness (also crazy uh), a gift of great smell, good taste in food choices, I feel like he raised a bunch of hand holders 💕💕 idk why I just do. That's all here
URANUS:
It says Ouranos which makes me think of Ouran highschool host club for some reason, I really would like a season 2. But it's funny cause I didn't know him and he seems pretty interesting though it seems like a minor role if he's the heavens personified that's some big stuff. He rules Uranus which rules Aquarius, possible talents and gifts could be (BLINDING LIGHTS IS PLAYING THIS IS GOOD UGHH I LOVE THIS SONG) alright back to it. Talents like, singing, clairaudience, intuitiveness, a love for curiosity and knowledge, liked skin and proportions, natural attraction, believable, natural leader when younger though maybe not as grown idk.
NEPTUNE:
Of course ruled by Poseidon. Idk why I still add the planets it's the thing above🤦🏽‍♀️ I just make this harder on myself. Neptune rules Pisces. Gifts and talents could be creativity, building, imagination, pull towards earth, swimming, attraction to people also (in a way that your looks capture people as Pisces is beautifully soft), strong senses of the eyes and ears, technology, either quiet or loud voice.
PLUTO:
The official one for Greeks is Hades, there was a name before called Plouton or Ploútōn another name for Hades. Pluto rules Scorpio, also guessed. Gifts and talents may be excelling in curricular concepts like philosophy, leadership (you guys can lead double lives but you're good rulers ngl kinda manipulative at them tho), you guys could probably background check me through connections with ppl lol, people confide in you often this is good cause I feel you feel loved by this, risk takers (Hades is kinda 'out of the circle' which leads to thoughts that Scorpios like to explore and be chaotic because of this at times they're finally free on earth), down to earth or way up high one way or another no in-between, natural ideas that people can't help but fall for, the ability to be unnoticed when wanted, stealthy, quick under pressure. you guys make this world more enjoyable over all there's not much ik you guys are just amazing to me for some reason.
END
that's all there but more to add on are things like blood line theory, if you are a natural descendant of a god (not by literal blood just chosen exactly by them) then there's a chance your abilities will be stronger and you will make a more greater imprint on the world. Not all of these were used for good. They cna be used to any advantage.
I believe asteroids also have something to do with the gods so if you would like to hear something on that please ask!
All in all this post took about 2 hours and 30 mins or close which isn't bad. Sorry if anything was missed and please share your ideas on this I love hearing them!
Coming back to say I'm surprised Hera wasn't here I was looking forward to her
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🎵everything’s coming up ivar🎆🎇 what a morning of fortunate revelations for him! i know i must say this after like every chapter, but you have truly done such an exceptional job building up these characters and this relationship. there were so many neat little tie ins to other things i noticed in the story! and every other line, i was just struck by how well theyd come to know each other. i remember after the first time he broke a bone (and smth similar in ch36??), she thought something to the extent of “if i try to push him on this, ill just hurt him. if i don’t, then he’ll just accept this situation as immutable, so im at a loss.” but she absolutely could not miss in this chapter. after all this time together, she knew exactly what to say—and he finally felt like he could completely sincerely trust her! “Of course you wouldn’t leave, he knows you wouldn’t leave him” 😣🥺😭 he’s got a new certainty!! also cracked me up to read half the lines and think “you’re gonna give him a heart attack!!!” only to move to the ivar pov to find that he was in fact having a heart attack. i Love that for them💕 sub ivar is like inspired choice #17266 for this fic but damn!! does it go hard you do just an excellent job!
it’s been such a convincing and satisfying journey for them. theyre really doing it!! i feel like my child has learned to ride a bike. you have been cranking out bangers only since the hiatus so thank you very very much for another fantastic chapter!!!❤️(bit of a tangent but i briefly looked up some baseline historical symbolism for lavender bc i was so struck by freydis and the mint smell and i wanted to get ahead of the game and like the first meaning that comes up is silence lmao—somehow i don’t think that’s it so ill have to keep looking!)
OMFG ILY  ❤️
I’m so happy you liked the newest update! That morning was A Lot™ for Ivar lol, all positives but still, his mind tapped out halfway through Gǫfga and none of us can blame him, poor guy was a tad overwhelmed lol. And yeah, her not really knowing if she should push or not is a thing that happens a lot (that will happen a lot more in a certain AU lol) because there really is no way to navigate around that until there’s the established trust and vulnerability that they have by now.
I’m so glad the fact that he now holds on to the certainty of her promising to stay by his side was noticeable!
Omfg yeah, the inside of Ivar’s head anytime she started talking was probably just a loop of a very loud alarm going off lol
I’m so happy you like sub!Ivar, it is a blast to write him actually surrendering to his lover like that. I cannot see him any other way to be honest, especially with my priestess. She’s been thinking about making him hers for a long time: “Even after he has imprisoned you, it would be a lie if you said you didn’t wonder what it would take to have the Viking underneath you, or the different ways you could make his proud façade crumble."
Thank you so so much for your kind words, they mean so much!! I am so happy you have been liking this so far, and that you enjoyed the latest updates. Thank you so much, you wonderful person!
I answer your intrigue about Lavender under the cut by the way, if you’re interested. It is not as interesting as with Mint and Freydis I’m afraid, but if you were curious as to why Ivar lingers on it, and why specifically Lavender, under the cut is the (very rambly, but that’s expected of me by now lol) answer 😉
As for the lavender, I commend your resolve to get ahead of any plot twists, but surprisingly this isn’t one. Lavender is actually the scent she uses in her baths, and thus her skin smells slightly of lavender. In a deleted scene of one of Ivar’s PoV’s it goes into how he has started to relate this slight lavender scent with her so much that walking into their room already makes him feel like she’s there even if she isn’t; and in his newest PoV he just lingers on it because it’s just one more way she clouds his senses.
As for why lavender? Ah, that’s where my irrational need to research everything comes into play. Lavender is a flower that symbolizes Persephone first of all, and it was (according to some of the sources I handled) one of the flowers used in the temples in Ancient Greece, so for the Priestess it has a strong meaning regarding her faith (and her retracing Persephone’s myth in the Goddess’ role, but she doesn’t know that lol). Also, Lavender was fairly common, and it has a lot of medicinal uses, including relaxation and the such, but most importantly for this story, it is one of the many herbs used to heal burn wounds. Lavender was one of the flowers used on the Reader (and that once she was better she used on herself) after the Eleusis thing, and either consciously or not she uses it still, it is a source of comfort in a way.
Cause here’s a thing/headcanon of the Reader/Priestess that really means nothing but I always snuck into my work: she is a healer first and foremost (is the one thing across all AUs and all the places she has been that remains consistent, from the Roads to Greece to Kattegat and beyond, in Nostalgia, and Hope and Alatheia and all others), and her insistence on keeping plants close to her is mostly because she wants life to be around her in a land like Kattegat, yes, but it is also because she trusts/relies on the herbs and what she can do with them. Her own sword and shield, her own way of fighting, like Sieghild told her in the flashback of Ch 33.
At the beginning of her time in Kattegat, stretched to her marriage to Ivar even, she mostly just kept plants like Lavender, Poppy, Summer savory, Field scabious and the such, which are all used medicinally to treat burns and as antibiotics. She is more scarred by what the Byzantines did to her in ELeusis than she would like to admit, or that she ever would in her PoV, that’s why I like sneaking in comments by Ivar and Freydis in their PoVs about how she flinches when someone breathes too much life to a fire, or how when she feels unsafe (even when she is freezing her ass off, bc she is not used to Scandinavia’s cold) she sits far away from any fire. Keeping plants like this is her way of irrationaly wanting to keep herself safe if they ever do the same thing to her again, even if it is incredibly unlikely. Slowly, she starts to be able to let go of that, and really all that remains by now (~Ch 42) of those plants is the Lavender.
When she marries Ivar (and more importantly when she starts truly caring about him) she starts keeping plants like Comfrey, Chickweed, Buckeye, which are used for broken bones or for rheumatic/arthritic pain, or for pain general, like Willow or Elderberry. Freydis makes a point of it in “Until spring comes.”, of how she has been relentless on keeping both the common/accesible ones like Comfrey and Willow around, but has also secured plants from the East, like Ganglong (which was traditionally used for bone fractures). Again, the plants and her ability to heal is her own way of fighting, her own way of keeping the people she loves safe and protected, limited as it may be. Which, around Ch 31 she uses (in a different way) to try to keep the man she loves safe, which is by making the wreath of flowers and praying to her Gods.
And once she really starts settling into her life in Kattegat, even if she doesn’t realize it, she no longer keeps plants only for the use they may have, and brings things like that Marsh Violet (that as far as my limited reseach told me has no real medicinal uses). Her own way of making the world around her a little more hers is by putting plants around her and caring for them (she did this in the Roads a lot too), and with time the stubborn little shit accepts letting this world make her a little theirs too by caring for plants like that one.
You are on point that I use plants and symbols a lot, most of them you know about by know. Ivar/Hades and snakes, Melinöe/Freydis (especially once the revelations of Ch33-34 happen, which is when the Minthe parallel comes to an end and she embraces the role of Melinöe in the Priestess’ eyes now that the lies are discovered) and howling dogs, Hermes/Galla and hawks/falcons. I used Snowdrops a few times I think, towards the beginning, which was a little nod to Freyja’s myth and the Priestess’ threading the line of it, because I like the parallels between some of Freyja and Persephone/Hecate (which by some sources could sometimes be intertwined, or one and the same, much like Melinöe and Persephone).
Anyhow, sorry for the long-ass answer, I hope it doesn’t dissapoint. I really cannot put into words how happy it makes me that you’d care enough about this story to search the meaning of lavender, thank you so much for your support, and for the undeserved love you keep showering me and Nostalgia with! Thank you so much sweetheart!
Sending you my love!! ❤️
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bennyboyjones · 4 years
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The Getaway (Ben Hardy FanFic) Chapter 2
A/N: Hi! So, here is chapter two to my Ben Hardy  AU Fanfic! There are currently several chapters written, which you can find on Wattpad, but I’ve decided to also upload it here as well. It might be a bit behind, but you’ll still get all the chaps eventually.
What it is: basically, a girl from a small town who is bored of her life decides to take a trip to Nice where she runs into ben, who is also running away from some shit and some romance ensues.
Word count: 4.7k
in this chapter: our main lady meets ben
WATTPAD LINK IF YOU WANT TO READ AHEAD
Spotify playlist
In case you missed it: MASTERLIST
here we go:
day one
My limbs felt heavier than the luggage I was pulling behind me as I trudged through the small airport, following the signs to the buses. I was a lot more relaxed now that I was here and knew what I needed to do and where to go.
When I stepped out of the airport and into the warm sun, I was greeted by the familiar sign: NICE, in huge red letters, stacked on top of one another a few feet away from where I was standing. I let out a sigh of relief and turned to my right, where there was a tiny ticket booth with a woman in a red cap behind the glass.
“Bonjour! Can I have two tickets for bus number seven? To Nice. Please?” I held my phone screen up to the window, knowing that this worked better last time instead of stammering for five minutes, trying to tell her where exactly I was going. She nodded her head while telling me the total. I handed over €10 and took my tickets, shoving one into my wallet and the other into my pocket. “Merci.” Admittedly, I didn’t know much French—barely any at all—but I had tried my best to learn the absolute basics in the three weeks before coming here, something I wish I had done the first time around. I knew how to ask for a cappuccino, how much something was, where the bathroom was, how to ask for several pastries, and more polite phrases such as “how are you” and “have a nice day”.
I stretched my arms out and shook them, then tied my hair into a messy bun before grabbing the handles of my luggage and walking over to the waiting area for my bus. The only other people waiting for bus #7 was a couple, probably mid-fifties, who were acting like they were on their honeymoon. I stood a few feet away from them, sat on my bigger suitcase and pulled out my phone to send a quick text to my mom letting her know I was alive.
I kept the bus route pulled up on my phone, with all the stops that would come before mine, and gripped it tightly in my hands while my eyes scanned the time table for the buses behind me. It was 12:30 now and the next bus wouldn’t come for another thirty-minutes. No one from home was awake at this hour so I had no one to talk to but I hadn’t been on social media for a while and so I turned on my data, opened up Instagram and started scrolling.
I had several direct messages, all from Liam. I rolled my eyes and opened them; every message was full of drunk ramblings: him telling me he didn’t need me, wouldn’t miss me, I was the one losing something, not him, I was making a mistake, but he still loved me and would be willing to forgive me and it went on and on for another ten messages. On impulse, I clicked on his profile and blocked him completely. I planned on posting about my trip, about the fun I planned on having and I didn’t need him storming into my direct messages every time I did so, or texting me his opinions, or commenting on any of it. Whatever we had wasn’t worth the stress anymore.
After exactly thirty-six minutes of mindless scrolling, my bus pulled up and I was the first one on. I smiled at the driver as I handed over my ticket and took a seat in the front row, right next to the doors. Last time, I got on this exact bus and when my stop came I pressed the red button but the bus never stopped and I was stuck walking forty-five minutes back the way the bus had come. That was not happening again.
I sat at the edge of my seat, holding onto my stuff so it wouldn’t roll around the bus as the driver took fast and tight turns, my body rocking back and forth with every one. My phone was in my lap and my eyes darted from the small screen that showed the stops, to the window as I watched stop after stop whizz past me.
I wrapped my legs around one of my suitcases to hold it in place and lifted my hand, poising my thumb over the red button, getting ready to push it. The second Gare de Nice Ville was announced by the lady with the mechanical voice, I slammed my thumb down on the button—twice, but the driver didn’t slow down and I could see the stop coming up through the window. There was another ding as the couple also pushed the button, panic in their eyes. I couldn’t believe that this was about to happen again. I stood up and slammed the red button three more times, the panic rising in my throat. I could feel that I was going to cry, really cry, because I was tired, and anxious, and fucking frustrated that this was happening a second time and I couldn’t understand it.
“Excuse me?” I called as I took a few steps forward in the direction of the driver. The couple was still pressing the button as my stop whipped past the window. “Excusez-moi!” I raised my voice and the driver finally turned his head to look once we were at a stop light. I didn’t know how to say, “you made me miss my stop, dickhead” in French so I settled for looking angry, raising my eyebrows and pointing to my thumb on the red button, which had not stopped pushing on it since he passed the stop. The driver didn’t say anything; he simply nodded, turned back towards the road and started driving again. I refused to sit down and stared at the back of his bald head, taking slow deep breaths in and out, afraid of losing what little composure I had left on this fucking bus.
At the next stop, he let me off and I had no idea where I was. It looked like a pavilion with a fountain in the center of the patio, shops and cafes situated around it. People were outside sipping from coffee cups and laughing, families strolling in and out of the small shops and I stood there watching it all—the people, the water shooting up from the large fountain—and felt myself take a huge breath. As frustrated and tired as I was, I was happy because I was here again. I could feel the sun beating down on my forehead, the warmth causing goosebumps up my arms before a light breeze rolled through the loose strands of my hair, fluttering my blazer behind me.
I took that moment to remind myself that I was safe, that a short walk wouldn’t kill me and that I was in fucking France for God’s sake and I shouldn’t let a bus driver’s lack of brain cells drive me to hysterics. I was never good with dealing with stress that wasn’t of my own creation; as in, I worked really well under pressure and often procrastinated projects or school work in order to induce said pressure, but when my stress came at the hands of the universe or of other people, I always nearly combusted or cried.
After pulling up Google Maps (again) and mapping out my route (a whole twenty minute walk), I pulled off my blazer and shoved it into my duffel and started on my way.
When I finally found the AirBnb I was way past out of breath and sweaty, so, so sweaty and my arms felt like they were going to fall off. I looked around at the shops next to it, Hermes and small bakery and already knew I made the right choice. I punched in the code the host had emailed me the day before and walked in. The small lobby was all beautifully tiles in blue and cream. Thankfully, there was an elevator straight across from the entry way and I wouldn’t have to figure out how to get all my stuff up three flights of stairs. I stopped in front of the wall of mail boxes to the left of the elevator and searched for mailbox #2B. It was left slightly open, just as the host said, and I reached in and pulled out the small key. I hit the “up” button of the elevator and waited until the door unlocked before opening it and stepping inside the tiny elevator. It was a short trip up and once the door unlocked again, I stepped out into the narrow hall. The apartment was the first one on the right and when I opened the door, I was happy to see it looked just as it did online.
It was a studio, with clean white walls and minimal furniture, all natural wood. There were a few pendant lights hanging from the ceiling every few feet; the full size bed was directly to the left of the door, a door leading to the small balcony directly across from the front door, on the left wall there was a small clothing rack and a book case filled with what looked like super old novels. I pulled off my duffel bag and purse, let my luggage tip over onto the floor, kicked my sneakers off and walked towards the balcony doors. Next to the doors, in a little alcove, was a very small kitchen with just a countertop, a toaster, a small stovetop, and a relatively small fridge; right off the small kitchen was the bathroom with a standing shower, toilet and washing machine.
The first thing I did was shower; airplanes and airports have an uncanny ability to make a person feel dirty and in-between that and my stress sweating I knew I smelled.
Once I was clean, I helped myself to a coffee in the kitchen and stepped out onto the balcony. I shouldn’t have been out there in a towel; there were other people out on their balconies and I was only on the third floor, not very high up and it was midday. I was sure at least some people could see me, but I didn’t care as much as I should’ve. This particular moment fit right in with my romanticization of this trip and so I was going to see it through. I stood there for a long while, sipping the coffee (because it was black as there was no milk in the fridge), leaning against the cool metal railing whose light green paint was slowly chipping, my hair being lightly dried by the small breeze that passed every few moments.
Later on, after I unpacked my luggage and managed to locate an iron, I started getting ready to go out. I curled my hair into waves before slipping on a loose, long sleeved, low-cut, white linen top and a pair of light blue cigarette trousers. In the spirit of the French, I stuck with minimal makeup, just some mascara and a bright red lip. Once I was ready, I grabbed my phone off the charger, my purse, and one of the disposables and slipped on my tan leather mules.
I walked straight ahead to the Promenade de Anglais so I could walk up and down along the water. This was my favorite thing I did the last time I was here. My first night, I walked back and forth for three hours just enjoying the chill of the wind blowing off the sea, keeping my scarf wrapped tightly around my neck with my hands deep in my pockets (it was mid-January). This evening, the feeling was so different but still so familiar. I remembered walking this exact path, passing benches, kids on skateboards, people sitting on the ledge before the promenade dropped into the beach, couples walking along the beach, the restaurants nestled on rocks, the wind traveling through my hair, the salty smell—but I wouldn’t be able to get that first time back. The feeling I had was no longer accessible and active; instead, it lived in nostalgia and imagination.
I wrote about that first time a lot; my journal was filled with poem after poem about the water, the promenade, the sounds of the waves crashing and the voices of people mingling, how I felt like such an outsider but at the same time so welcomed—how I felt so much like myself in a way I had never experienced before. Ever since then, I’ve been chasing her, the girl I was when I was here. Back in New York, I wasn’t the same and I felt as if I was always itchy in my own skin; it didn’t always feel right—the way I acted, spoke, dressed, cared about both others and myself. I wanted to get her back and I was so convinced that coming here would help me find her.
After about an hour or aimless walking I decided to take a seat on one of the many benches on the promenade that faced the beach. It was getting cooler out now, the faint breeze picking up and passing by more frequently.
I watched as a young couple ran around the rocky beach, playfully chasing one another, their mouths opened in what I imagined was laughter, but their voices were drowned out by the sound of the light blue waves coming down on the rocks. There was a longing that formed in my chest; a feeling that I was growing more and more familiar with the past year. It bloomed often, when I saw two people who looked so in love, a girl my age experiencing success, my friends running off to internships and career opportunities, families that were whole.
I pulled out the disposable and snapped a picture of them; him behind her, arms wrapped around her waist, her feet of the floor, hair blowing around like a halo, her eyes shut tight and mouth open in glee, and his head buried in her hair.
I cleared my throat, forcing the longing back down and put the camera away, exchanging it for one of my favorite books, The Bell Jar. My copy was slightly tattered and every page was covered in notes. I really needed a new one, but there was comfort in reading this same copy over and over, rereading the thoughts of an old self.
I was softly reading my book aloud when my stomach growled so loud I checked around me to see if anyone else had heard it.
I hadn’t eaten since the plane, but I also hadn’t been hungry since then because the time difference was messing with my body’s time clock. My eating schedule and sleeping schedule were going to be a bit off for the next few days until I got better adjusted. I checked the time and saw I had around thirty minutes until most of the restaurants opened for dinner service and decided to roam into the winding roads in search of somewhere to eat.
As I walked away from the sea, I kept my eyes trained upwards, locked on the buildings I passed; taking notice of the pale pinks, yellows, and oranges they were painted, the iron window sills and balconies, the soft blues and greens of their window shutters. My eyes roamed over flower shops and bakeries getting ready to close, cafes still packed with people sipping from tiny cups, cigarette smoke floating between them. Every few feet I stopped to skim a menu plastered to the outside of a restaurant, making a mental note when I could read it and found several things I liked and taking a picture of the name with my phone when the whole menu was in French so I could go back to it later.
I stopped at a small stand to buy a post card to send to my mom and brothers; “Merci,” I said as I took my change, postcard and stamp from the large man’s hand. I turned around with my head down and my shoulder hit into something hard.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” I shook my head and repeated myself, “Je suis désolé.”
“Oh my god, hey!”
I squeezed my eyes shut before slowly raising my head, painting on a smile and looking at the man in front of me. I was sure the universe was out to get me; I knew Nice was small, but what were the odds of running into enthusiastic Eric—they had to be miniscule.
“Hi.”
“I can’t believe I’m running into you! This is crazy. It really is a small world, isn’t it?” He smiled and ran a hands through his thin hair.
“It must be,” I muttered.
“I know I gave you my number but are you busy right now? Are you hungry? Would you want to grab a bite?”
“Actually,” I hiked my bag further up onto my shoulder and pointed towards the entrance of a restaurant behind him, “I actually have dinner plans. I’m meeting a friend and she’s expecting me any minute.”
His smile faltered slightly, “Oh, well, enjoy!” I started to step around him before he said, “Don’t be afraid to give me a call!”
I threw a thumbs up in his direction and turned to see him still watching me. I had no other choice but to pull open the door and step into the small restaurant I had pointed out.
It was dark inside, the only light coming from the small candles sat atop every table, the overhead lights giving off only a hazy glow. I wasn’t sure if they were exactly open yet, since there was no one in sight, but door was open and the dining room looked set up for dinner.
I reached forward and rang the tiny bell that was on the host stand in front of me.
“Hello?” a man’s voice called out in a thick French accent.
“Hi!” I smiled when he came around from the corner where I assumed the bar was placed. “Are you open?”
“Yes, just still early,” he said while grabbing two menus.
“Oh, no, just one,” I held up a finger and sent him a sheepish smile. I followed him through a labyrinth of empty tables, finally stopping at one that was against the wall on the right side of the room. The man pulled my chair out for me, the dark wooden legs screeching against the deep wine tiled flooring. He placed the menu on the white tablecloth, careful to move the small candle away and collected the extra place setting. “Merci,” I said before he walked away.
I ordered a class of red wine and as I waited for my waiter to return, I heard another person enter the restaurant. Out of pure instinct, I turned my head to look but turned back quickly when I saw the man’s eyes flicker to mine. After a few short murmurs, I heard footsteps as the maître d’ led him to his table—right in front of mine. I kept my eyes trained on the menu trying so hard to keep my nosiness at bay.
“Thank you.” The accent was English, I noted.
Café Gustav turned out to be an Italian restaurant, which I didn’t mind since Italian food was my one of my favorites, but it partially felt wrong to be eating pasta my first night in France. There were so many things that looked so good and so many words I had to punch into Google Translate that, by time my waiter returned, I still wasn’t ready to order. Too embarrassed to ask for a few more minutes again, I scanned the menu quickly one more time and ordered the rigatoni truffes blanches et girolles because truffle was always a good idea.
As I gave the waiter my menu, I snuck a peek at the man in front of me and noticed his eyes glued to his menu, giving me the opportunity to take him in; he was blond, his hair long on top but short on the sides, and he was muscular, I could tell from the way his biceps were outlined through his thin white t-shirt and from the veins lacing the back of his hands. He had a nice jawline, square but slightly heart shaped, and his nose was masculine—not too big and not too small—his lips were small but pink, his cupids bow pronounced, I noticed, as his tongue slipped over them. Look up, look up, look up, I begged, wanting so badly to know what color his eyes were.
“Seems we’re a bit early aren’t we?” I jumped at the sound of his voice, my eyes snapping away from his lips to meet his—green.
My cheeks flushed and embarrassment crawled so far up my neck I felt the tops of my ears burn, “Seems so. I forgot how late people had dinner here.” I grabbed my glass and took a sip, attempting to cover my blush.
“You’ve been here before?”
“Well, not here,” I placed my hands on the table in front of me, “but here,” I started waving my hands around me, “as in Nice.”
He chuckled, “Yes, I assumed we were talking about the city.”
“Oh,” I took another quick sip of my wine and thankfully, my waiter arrived with my food and saved me from embarrassing myself further.
It smelled amazing and my mouth watered as the steam tickled my nose, but I could still feel his eyes on me and was so worried that I ate like an animal that I moved the contents of my dish around with my fork until I heard him place his order with the waiter, “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”
A few moments later, another glass was placed in front of me even though I hadn’t ordered one and wasn’t finished with my first. I gave the waiter a confused look and he pointed to the Brit across from me. When I turned my eyes to him, he held up his own glass and gave me a wink before bringing his drink to his lips. I smiled and raised mine back.
I ate slowly, making sure to savor every bite and not wanting to leave before he did. He was hot and so far extremely charming and British. I wanted this flirtation to go on for as long as possible. We both ate in silence and I periodically stopped to look at him every time his eyes went to his food.
It wasn’t until the waiter took his plate away that he spoke, “You have great taste; the food and the wine were great.”
I had finished a bit before, but had ordered a third glass of wine. The restaurant was about half filled by then, the low murmur of the people around us causing him to slightly raise his voice.
“I know,” I gave him a smile and played with the stem of my glass.
“I’m Ben.”
“Josie.”
“Care to have a drink, Josie?”
I tilted my head to the side, turning his offer over in my mind. “I don’t know…” I trailed off. I didn’t know him, as hot as he was. He was confident and charming and I couldn’t tell where the confidence was stemming from. Was he confident because he saw me as an easy mark? Did I look lonely? Did I look desperate?
“One drink.”
I held up my almost empty glass, “Three is my limit,” I downed the rest, “and this was my third.”
He laughed, letting his head fall back, “A coffee then!”
I hummed as though I was considering it. I watched his face, the hope in his eyes and knew I couldn’t say no. I told myself that I would be crazy to pass up a drink with a man who looked that good, with that accent, in a place like Nice. “I think I could do coffee.”
He broke out into a smile and waved me over. I paid for my meal and slipped into the seat opposite him. He reached out and shook my hand before calling the waiter over, “Deux noissettes, s'il vous plaît.”
“You speak French.” I observed, slightly impressed by the accuracy of his accent.
“Only the basics.” He corrected, “I know how to ask for certain things and make very simple conversation, but that’s about it. I used to go to Paris for work once or twice a year so I learned a little bit to get me through.”
“Oh, what do you do?”
“Right now, nothing,” he let out a sigh and brushed a fallen blond lock out of his eyes, “I was in advertising, but it’s not really for me. I mean, I was good at it but I don’t know…” he trailed off and narrowed his eyes at me, “Sorry, you don’t want to hear this.”
“No, I do.” I assured him, “If I didn’t I wouldn’t have agreed to have coffee.”
“What do you do?” he asked once our coffees were placed in front of us.
“Nothing.” I laughed and shook my head when I saw the look on his face, “I swear I’m not making fun of you. I literally do nothing. I’m still in college so I’m a student which means I don’t really do anything.”
“Well, what do you want to do?”
“Write—and maybe edit, maybe be a professor? I don’t know it’s all kind of up in the air right now.”
“Hm, the bookish type.” He took a drink from his small cup and watched me roll my eyes in his direction.
“I wouldn’t say bookish. I read, but I’m not a nerd or anything.” I thought for a moment, “At least, I don’t think I am.”
He chuckled before asking me questions about what I liked to read, why I wanted to write. I kept trying to bring him back to his “nothing,” curious as to what it was he left advertising for but he always deflected and so I dropped it; I didn’t know him well enough to push and I didn’t want to completely obliterate my chances of seeing him again—because I would like to see him again, I found myself thinking. He was sweet and he smelled good, he looked great in his t-shirt and his hair looked soft and his lips looked warm and his eyes were bright and I wanted to see him again.
I found myself disappointed when our cups were empty and the check was on the table, neither of us really able to find an excuse to stay. I could see his eyes searching for something, looking for a reason to stay and I really hoped he would find one because I couldn’t. We needed a reason because we were strangers—we weren’t friends or lovers or business partners, we were two loners who just so happened to end up across from one another. We couldn’t stay simply because we wanted to, it couldn’t be that easy.
“I guess that’s it then,” Ben said before pulling his black leather wallet out of his pocket, dropping money onto the mini tray where the check is.
“I guess it is.” I sighed as I grabbed my bag from off the back of my chair and brushed my hair out of my face.
“It was really nice meeting you,” he said as he scribbled what I assumed was his signature on the receipt.
“You too,” I smiled at him but didn’t walk away.
He slid a piece of paper over to me, his phone number slightly illegible. “We’ll both be here for a while, it would be a shame if you didn’t give me a call.”
I picked it up, “It really would be, wouldn’t it?” I folded the piece of paper neatly, careful not to rip it or smear the ink and placed it in between the pages of my book before tucking it into my bag.
He walked to stand beside me, placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed, “Goodnight, Josie.”
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randomkposts · 4 years
Text
Up the down way
So I once wanted to write a FFIV AU, with a very different universe and an OC Callian Jackson. here was my attempt at note taking.
Callian is here in the story as Kain and Rosa's best friend. Kain and Rosa are dating, and with Callian here, there is a different dynamic to their friendship, as Kain has two girls teaming on him to do things, and is probably not left alone to brood as often as he would like, among other things. Callian is mostly here, because Cecil was being raised elsewhere, and Callian is a girl who lost both her parents in the war, and chose to take up the way of the dark knight, and passed it, becoming good enough to be a Captain of the red wings. She is not a cannon clone of Cecil or Kain, though she may take some elements of the roles, she is ultimately her own weirdo in the story. I do not intend her to be an expy, and hopefully she does not come off as a Sue either. ��Cecil is still in this story, just obviously not here in Baron. He'll probably show up briefly soon. The characters will not be as you remember, because the blue planet they grew up in is not the one we are used to, and there are some odd consequences to that. The social chemistry of the world is different, and so are they.
Is a bit of a parody and an AU Alice in Wonderland style, in that the characters can be downright odd.
Plot:  When Callian Jackson's invasion of Mysidia goes wrong, she is sent to be a delivery person as atonement. Callians invasion likely went wrong because of a stray berserk spell, and her soldier's went nuts on the people. Never less, a good commander should rise above that, and accomplish the mission, keep the men's respect. Kain, wondering what Rosa was talking about, Comes into the room to ask, and ends up getting sent alongside Callian to Mist. ---
The scene starts with Callin quietly but furiously questioning her men,  and her men too ashamed to say anything to her, beyond monster warnings. She begins, quietly, and intensely angry, getting details about the mission , until a monster attack distracts her, much to their relief. To the king, she is quietly upset, trying  to hold her temper. Kain wanders into the room, and gets sent along. She does let it out when Rosa comes to her room, as Rosa often serves as an outlet.
Differences from IV: Kain is dating Rosa, and is not nearly as broody or secretive in part to having two woman who would pester him if he was off. Rosa is a lot more outspoken, and has Scrying abilities, as well as being Paranoid of Troians.  Callian had a crush on Kain, but when Rosa asked him out, they talked about it, and Calians happy for them. I think in the original, Cecil was a peacemaker who asked Rosa to leave Kain alone,even when he deserved a chewing out.
Day two: They leave the castle with a  feeling of Destiny in their hearts. At Baron, Calian goes and finds stuff with "treasure hunter senses", and Kain goes to buy supplies, (bartering , an act learned from Rosa).  While Kain contemplates sporks, he runs into fan-girls and an eager dancer, and helps Calian take a tent from a river when he jumps. Once out of Town, the two decide to train like mad, then ride  the Chocobos to the mountain , so they go south. They earn goblin and cocatrice. Meanwhile, at the castle, a Scrying Rosa sees them going the wrong direction, and decides to catch up with them using many Hermes sandals, and remembering why using too many items outside of battle is bad (made her more susceptible to the illness later). Meanwhile, Callian and Kain reach the grove after fighting enough battles with goblins to win the summon , and grab Chocobos. When Rosa arrives after, she sees  a black Chocobo and uses it, much to the pale haired man's upset utterances. -(Yes that is Cecil, Lol)-She flys over the mountain and lands , deciding to rest in the grasslands. Meanwhile Callain and Kain arrive at the mountains, and take a rest instead of going in and facing zombies. (Rosa tells many horror stories) They get through the cave fine, and decide to rest in the tent before entering Mist.
Day two, part two: Well rested, our hero's enter the cave and run into porcupines and the dragon of Mist. Kain is not fond of attacking Dragons, so they try to run, only to have to kill it anyways.  Entering the village, bombs attack from the Carnelian Signet .Rather than Come to the logical conclusion, Callain concludes its a test and she is meant to be foiling a ninja plot , and begins shouting orders and getting people to safety "taking command" of a chaotic situation.She decides to evacuate. Following orders, Kain goes to help a little girl, who- furious her village is being invaded- summons Titan, separating Kain from Callian.  Meanwhile Rosa, believing they would be taken to Kaipo until they were transferred to Fabul and shipped to Troia, wanders around outside of Kaipo, trying to find the blasted place In the desert. She runs into Tellha, who informs her she is not the Mage he's looking for.
Day three: Kain wakes up, and decides to find a place for the little girl he accidentally orphaned to sleep, and perhaps be adopted. So he goes to Kaipo, a neutral city, and more importantly, close.  In the middle of the night, three Guards come for Kain and Rydia. Kain sends them away stating Calian asked him to watch this kid. The Captain then asks if Rosa was here, since she has been missing and that their  purpose here was a search party. Kain offers to take over the desert search party, much to their relief, and they go. Kain is glad that encounter could be solved by negotiating, as that was one of Callins competent Captains. Meanwhile Rosa collapses at Kaipos gates.
The next day, Rydia wakes up and can't remember the attack, or what she's doing here, and asks where her mother is. Kain informs her that her mother is dead. She is quiet after that. They hear some rumors about a girl with desert fever, and some more about the prophetic chick Anna who everyone had talked about the other day when they were looking for an inn. They find Rosa and discover she was the one with desert Fever.  Kain goes off to find a sand pearl, and Rydia comes with him. In fact she refuses to leave him, very assertively. Kain gets Rydia some weapons. Rydia proves competent at Healing, and distracting monsters with weak attacks for Kain to counter. They use this strategy since Kain can't jump and leave her. Beyond battle, Rydia is quiet and unobservant in terrain. Kain has to hold her hand to prevent her wandering off.
Randomly added note.(Edges difference in attitude comes from a more comprehensive training due to an attack on the palace he almost died at. He is quieter and more ninja like.)
R.A.N2(Edward is determined to get the prophet who tried to save him back! He is more determined than sad.)
R.A.N3( Palom is already a sage, spellwise. He had to learn some cure magic until someone gave Porem a cure staff. The problem with the twins is that they are five year old prodigies, who are probably pushed because of paranoia over Baron. They have some issues. Palom has high standards, is hypercritical of himself, and uses lots of false bravado. He needs the rest of the world to believe he's awesome.  Porem has a terrible bedside manor, and anger management issues, so carries a cure staff, so when she hits people, it heals them. They are quite nervous about teaching her hammer style fighting, even if she might be good at it, because no cure hammer has been invented. )
RAN 3.5: (Kain has to protect them on his way up the mountains. That means covering and countering the attacks directed towards them in battle, taking breaks for them, and giving them piggybacks. He also gives Rydia piggybacks. The trip up the mountain is a long and grueling journey. PS: Write a story about Cecil and the twins climbing the mountain, frame as elders revenge)
Finally Kain and Rydia arrive at the cage and meet Tellaha.
Rn4( Tellaha can see the future. Or at least possible outcomes of the future. Kain being here, makes him realize something is different, but he can't quite remember what. He has trouble differentiating between what is a possibility and what is real, leading him to sway between right for the wrong reasons, and completely off base. He seems to believe in the original timeline at the moment, and may leave on a quest for Cecil. Tellah is also amnesic, and can not remember past Anna's eleventh birthday)
Rn4.5 (This world's Anna is kind of Joan of Arc, and Callian’s main opponent, and they will clash more throughout the fic. Callin kind of sees her as worthy adversary, and keeps her alive, but gives her to Kain so she doesnt have to explain it.)
Tellaha informs  them they are late, much to their confusion, and they enter the cave. Throughout the cave, they find several potions, and pieces of dark knight armour and a sword . Kain notes he does not have to worry about getting Callin a birthday present now. Tellaha focuses on teaching Rydia thunder and ice spell words, as fire will not be very useful in an water cave. Rydia tells them the smell of smoke terrifies her.
Kain and Tellaha reconsider their plans to have goblin for dinner, in favour of smoked goblin. Then again, fire keeps away Zombies. Kain and Tellaha debate the merits of fire as they continue through the cave.
(RN5: Rosa has a crazily complex family tree that includes, but is not limited too, Tellaha &Anna, Palom&Porem& Sheila[ Yangs wife]. It debatably includes Rydia. Maybe. Callian of course has no idea of this when she sits down and tries to relate to Rosa just how odd this is.)
(RN6: Rosa hates Troians. Troia, in this universe, are the Amazonian-esque city. They are fierce magical archers who steal or entice men into their castle, in an attempt to sire strong warriors. As a magical archer (white) Rosa is often accused of being one, and has grown a tad resentful. It doesn't help that Rosas family is from Mysidia, Barons former close ally [before the attack], who is traditionally rivals with Troia. Kain has huge respect for ninjas, like Callain has for monks )
After a brief rest, Tellah attacks Kain, asking where they are, who they are, and what happened to his daughter. Kain reminds them of the current quest, and Tellah asks where Cecil is. Kain asks who Cecil is, and they continue  on through the monster packed cave, to face the Octomamoth. Kain has to keep to the strategy of defending Tellaha and Rydia, and countering the monsters attacks, while Tellaha and Rydia put their lightning based attacks to good use. It's a fairly long and painful battle, but they emerge victorious. Upon exiting the cave, they see an attack on Damcyan in the distance. They go to investigate.  
Upon entering Damcyan, they meet Calian at the entrance, with Anna unconscious. Tellaha is out of it.  Calian asks if they have seen Rosa, as she has gone missing. Kain affirms they have, and that she has desert fever, and they need a Damcyan person to get a sand pearl. Callian tells him, that although she still feels disturbed with Baron actions of late, she's happy to report, there were fewer casualties, her men were controlled in temperament, and once the tactician was knocked out, resistance fell apart. She believes Anna may be a genius tactician, and brilliant leader.  
Upon seeing the tactician Anna, Tellaha attacks Callian, accusing her of being a spooney bard who ran off with his daughter, married her without permission , and got her killed.
Callin tells Kain to keep his companions under control, and get their stories straight.  She also insists to Kain she is not a lesbian, and that she better leave if he wants help from the Damcyains. Before going, she tells him she found this among Mist, and gives Kain the bomb item hoping it will be useful to him.
Kain tells Tellaha he was attacking the wrong person, and they should go inside. They see people bringing a either pot downstairs to the wounded, and begin healing them. Rydia and Tellah spend time helping with magic, and Kain uses first aid, and helps with moving people downstairs. Eventually he comes across Edward mourning his mother and father. Kain, having some tact, leaves him alone for now. Once the cleanup is done, they begin moving the bodies Kain comes up, to talk with Edward. (Rosa has had him come on talks to patients families and he and Callian have also done so to their soldiers families).  Kain is still quite blunt, but has learned some thing about talking to grieving people. Sorta.
They have a talk, and he manages to convince Edward to both help them get the sand pearl, and warn Faboul, once his kingdom is better. Rosa being a healer is mentioned. Rydia has no outburst. Once a second for Edward is appointed, they go to move out. Tellah yells at Edward asking what he was doing with his eleven year old daughter, and is asked what he is talking about by Edward. The only Anna he met was the glorious savior of Damcyan.
Tellah gets mad and runs off, much to Kain and Rydias discomfort. Finally they set off for the anitolin den. Much to Kains annoyance,  he is still the group shield. The Antoilon is not a difficult foe, and after many battles they earn not only the sand pearl, but the elusive rainbow jelly for Edward, who is not going to give this one to Callain.
(RN7 Callain is crazy prepared in some ways.  She insists on fighting many monsters with Kain outside of town, to stock up on items & Gil harvester as an ability.  She and Cid had airships capable of invading the moon, that were destroyed by the red wings, because they left them with the RW in preparation to invade the moon. She also has oddly convenient timing, and a love of training people, with a dream to fill the bestiary. She buys every weapon, shield, ect.  It's why Kain had Goblin on him. )
They then battle their way out of the cave,  and take the hover across the shoals. They fight a few battles and get cockatrice summon.
Rydia is pleased. Rosa is revived.
The story goes on, but I haven't moved far past that point.
So some explanations and headcanons to make sense of this verse
Baron is at war with Ebalan. The crystals being stolen and the army, and Callian’s explanation of “foiling a ninja plot” are tied to this. The war started over a catastrophic failure in marriage negotiations.
Rosa is the current heir of Baron. She is tied to the lineage of the throne through her grandmother, a princess who married a mysidian mage, who had her mother, who married a dragoon in Barron. It was a scandalous story back in the day, although it is kept on the down low now that the king has fathered no children, and they are at war. Kain is looked at as the future ruler, because of this. Politics will play a part, particularly during the Fabul castle invasion.  Also Rosa needs to be depicted with more muscle please, she wields a bow for crying out loud. She should be soo buff.
There are rumors that Calian is the heir. Callian plays along with this to protect her friend.
Calian is loyal to her friends, but she is also loyal to her country and the people she leads. She is not leaving on Kain’s quest because she intends to take care of the people back home. I wanted to contrast the personal reasons of Kain being an antagonist from cannon, and avert brainwashing. She’s not as blind as she pretends to be, and comes up with some very bizarre explanations to others in the intention to subvert the malice in her orders. She won't be able to look away forever, but in the meantime she can use “alternative explanations” to do things like prevent Mist from being a genocide, or win Damcyan with less casualties ( Anna of Arc was a pretty big factor in this too). The surviving summoners will play a part later.
Who cast the Berserk spell is a small ongoing mystery. (The brainwashing is not contained to Baron)
At this point in the story, Rydia is amnesic, and I tried to include some realistic symptoms of that. She is also under the impression that Kain is her previously unmet Dad, who came for her after her mom died, and does not remember the invasion, probably the trauma from it. The “Kain is secretly my dad”  is not revealed until after the Faymarch, because it had no reason to come up, and it's pretty hard to dissuade her of it after she has lived with it for years.
Oh, heres some older notes
-“Honesty, my first attempt went from crack to serious, to crack. Like at the beginning, I decided there's no way the mages should be that easy to defeat, so I decided that a berserk spell had been cast on half of both armies. Of course, it's a pretty chaotic battle between being turned into frogs or pigs , and the fire spells, the mages berserking and everything. So, Calian decides, let's complete the objective, get in, get the crystal, get out.
So once she recalls her troops, she is on the airship, and trying to figure out WTF happened. Of course back home!e, she is responsible, and the king is questioning her competence there. He sends her on a milk run to deliver this ring to some nowhere village in the mountains.
Like in canon, Kain comes along.
Rosa talks to her to try to cheer her up that night.
The next day they go to town. Kain goes shopping, and Callian goes Item hunting. When Kain runs into a crazy dancer fangirl, he jumps off a bridge and finds Calian contemplating a tent in the water.
They decide it would be better to catch a Chocobo. Of course they run into so many goblins there they find a goblin summon. (Ffiv has a ridiculously low drop rate) . Then they set up a tent outside the cave.
The next day, they face the dragon, accidentally kill the summoner. Then they find out the purpose of the ring was to summon bombs on the village. Callin interprets it weirdly...
"It is an Ebalanese ninja plot. I must do what I failed last time and take control of the situation. Command it. Kain, help me evacuate."
So, more villagers survive, but Rydia still summons Titan
The nation of Barron is being taken over by Golbez, who is also possessed. He had the king brainwashed, then disposed of and replaced, and Barron is now making war for crystals of other nations, and bombing the village of summoners, and in cannon Cecil and Kain agreed this is not the king we want to work for. Then they are separated by a magic earthquake, and end up on opposite sides of the mountain.  Cecil is left caring for the child whose mother he inadvertently killed, and Kain is presumably taken back to Barron and brainwashed.
In this one , Kain will be with the kid, and Calian will be back in Barron not brainwashed, (yet,) but loyal and willing for the time. She's a capable captain, and as long as she is loyal to home, well someone needs to lead the army.
Like Cecil, she's friends with Kain and Rosa. Unlike Cecil, Kains group dynamic is changed, because I sort of get the feeling that Cecil let Kain brood too much. Like Kain and Cecil were said to be BFF\Rivals, but the game didn't really show it much. There was a love diagram with Kain crushing on Rosa, who was dating Cecil, so I get the feeling that tension was never properly talked out in Cannon, because Kain kind of behaves like a creep towards her when brainwashed,  and then apparently stays on a mountain for 30 years post game. Some shit needs to be said here.
So yah, different dynamic here
So Cailan takes Cecil's role at first, being captain of the red wings, Kains Rival, and generally regarded as essential for being a knight. She worked hard to get there, and is pretty competitive. Cecil is still around, and will show up later, as a different person with different teachings.
She is loyal to her home country and her troops, and that will get her into trouble and scapegoat in the long run.”
So Cecil. Here Cecil is still a dark knight, who grew up the apprentice of the wandering dark knight whose armor we find around the game, and is mentioned in Fabul. As an apprentice to someone who the dark knight class is a family style, he has a lot more battle techniques and equipment then in game. He is investigating why there are increasingly frequent monster attacks,  and trying to find out why the world is out of balance.
Edward sincerely admires Anna.
Anna and her father have hereditary clairvoyance. It takes a toll on them as they age. 
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mayaparker · 4 years
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@rydenbolt, @scarlettxruby & Maya reconvene at Maya’s apartment. Secrets are revealed and promises made.
(also forgot to link the song the title’s based on in the first one so here!)
Part III
Maya was halfway to drunk already. Despite her increased drinking, how little she'd been sleeping and eating meant it didn't take too much. Especially when she was taking pulls straight from the bottle. She'd sunk to her kitchen floor, hair half in her face. Hermes had curled up next to her. She didn't notice the hot fat tears rolling down her cheeks or the continued throbbing of her hand. She couldn't focus on much of anything.
Moving up the familiar path to Maya's apartment, Ryden parted ways with Ruby who made a straight line for the bathroom to wash up. He meandered to the kitchen, where the smell of alcohol and panic was strong. He found Maya on the kitchen floor and plopped down tiredly next to her, arms hanging limply over his knees. He heaved a deep, tired sigh, head thrown back against the counter, at a loss for words for the moment.
Maya barely looked up when Ryden and Ruby returned, only enough to make sure they weren't seriously injured. After confirming exactly that, she returned her gaze to her hardwood floor as if it held some sort of answer. It didn't. She didn't react when Ryden sat next to her. Hermes, on the other hand, sniffed at him to make sure he wasn't injured. After a long moment, she spoke in a soft voice, "I'm sorry."
Ignoring the dog because cuteness wasn't a priority now, Ryden sighed again at Maya's apology. "For what? For bein' a dumbass? Yeah, apology not accepted."
Again, Maya was quiet for a long moment. She didn't have much to say for herself. Instead, she asked, "Why are you here then?"
"Cause I wanna be, duuh. Why else?" Ryden finally looked at her, noticing the bottle of whiskey in her hand, already half done. He stole it from her loose grip, taking a long swig off it himself, grimacing at the burning sensation gliding down his throat.
Satisfied that the big one wasn't injured, Hermes trotted off in search of Ruby. Maya couldn't argue with that."Your life would be a lot easier without me in it, you know," Maya replied simply as a fact.
"No, it wouldn't. The fuck ya know about my life anyway?" Ryden snorted, making sure to take smaller sips off the whiskey he stole from her. After he had his fill, he returned the bottle to Maya. "Are ya still sure ya can handle this on yer own?"
Maya only managed a half smile as he disagreed with her. She didn't believe him, but it was nice of Ryden to disagree. She took back the whiskey from him and took a long draw from it. Shaking her head, she huffed a laugh. "I was trying to convince myself more than anyone else. Being that scared again? It made me feel so small and weak." She took another pull from the bottle.
 "Ya know that everyone's got those moments and it's perfectly normal, right? Especially if it's sumtin' seriously fucked up. Shit, when will you learn to take advantage of the perks of havin' people who care about ya? Why is that so bloody difficult for ya?" Ryden came at her full-force, right in the core of the problem, because obviously, Maya would never get to answering these questions for herself. If he asked them out loud, maybe she'd actually stop to finally give them a good, hard thought.
Brushing her hair out of her face, Maya sighed. There was a defensive part of her that wanted to ask him the same question. After all, it wasn't like Ryden was big on asking for help. But it wasn't the one so clearly not handling his shit. She took a drink. "When I get scared like that, like someone calling me mama and sitting outside my apartment scared, it's like I'm fucking sixteen again. And, I don't know, there was no one to save her. No one really believed that girl was in trouble." As she said it, she couldn't bring herself to look at him, instead focusing on the dark liquid in the whiskey bottle.
"Are you still sixteen, Maya? Wanna stay stuck in there? Is that what ya want?" Ryden asked, not to push her or judge her. He genuinely asked if she really wanted this for herself.
Maya shook her head again. It didn't feel like it was about what she wanted. It felt more like someone had flipped a switch her head. She tried to explain, "It's just when I'm scared like that...when I'm really and properly terrified, the survival part of my brain takes over." She shook her head again and set the bottle down. "I don't know. It feels like I spend so much time trying to be better and none of it fucking matters."
"No, yer talkin' bout an instinct that takes over in the moment. Not tellin' people yer in trouble is a conscious decision ya gotta keep up with, which you do, even when the instinct wears off. Don't fuckin' blame it on survival. Yer a conscious being. It's not possible we run on instinct our every wakin' moment. So, tell me, what are ya actually doing to make things better?" Ryden replied.
Nothing was the answer to Ryden's question. Maya hadn't done anything to make it better. Unless one counted getting a dog, but one probably shouldn't. For a long few minutes, she didn't say anything. Part of her, that lizard part of her brain that told her how to act when things got bad, argued she should just say the same things she'd told Ruby. The cult would get bored eventually. They hadn't actually physically attacked her since the party. And other flimsy excuses. Finally, Maya said, "I need help. I don't know what to do. I'm not sleeping, I barely eat, I'm just...I don't know what to do."
"Yeah... I know." Ryden muttered when she finally confessed. He reached out for her, pulling her to him until all of her weight was cradled in his arms. "I'll stay with ya. Okay?" He nuzzled against the top of her head, kissing the roots of her hair. "I'll take care of you and we'll take care of it t'gether."
 Maya let herself be pulled into the safety of Ryden's arms. She relaxed in a way she hadn't for weeks. "You shouldn't have to," she argued weakly. But it wasn't about if he had to. Clearly he'd already chosen to. For a moment, she closed her eyes and let herself be warmed by the embrace. She'd been so cold recently. "Did you know what they meant?" she asked, "What that woman was chanting, I mean."
"Yeah, well, shit happens, even to people better than either of us. Ya gotta do wha'choo gotta do," Ryden concluded, plain and simple. He let her relax into his hug, physically feeling some of the tension leaving her body. Although she couldn't see it, his expression darkened when conversation was directed back to the happenings of the night. "Not sure but I'll find out..."
"They were talking about you," Maya said, although they both already knew it. "Do you think its..." She paused to make sure that Ruby was still in the shower before lowering her voice even further. "You think the Man in Black is behind this whole cult business?" she asked before adding, "They're all werewolves. The cult folks who've been following me around."
"Well, did they say anythin'? Have they tried to make any kinda contact? Anythin' else ya remember?" He was grasping at straws, though. When Iann helped him recover his memories of the night he got turned, it got Ryden all kinds of ideas what might be going on. But that was no actual proof of anything. At this point, this could literally mean anything.
 "Other than them calling me variations on mom? Because no, that's basically it," Maya replied. Some of the tension returned to her shoulders as she added, "As you probably guessed I've been trying to ignore it more than anything."
"Fuck, what? 'Mom'? Fuckin' twisted..." Things made even less sense now. Ryden regretted not having locked up one of the pricks in a basement now. Everyone could sing a song if you push hard enough. He would be able to get them to talk, especially since they seemed terrified of him. Too late now though, and somehow, he didn't like the idea of getting a second chance at that, no matter how useful it might prove to be. Sighing again, he finally released Maya from his embrace, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Whatever, let's just... not think about it t'night. We promised to pretend, remember?"
 It didn't make any more sense to Maya than it did to Ryden. In fact, it probably made less sense given that she had less information. At least though, neither of them was in it alone. Given it involved both of them now, it was almost easy to convince even the worst of her instincts that they would indeed face it together. When he released her, Maya sat up. She gave him a soft smile, "Yeah and I'd really rather be anyone but Maya Parker right now." She huffed a laugh, "Although my hand still fucking hurts."
Ryden managed a lopsided smirk at that. "Lemme see." He took her hand in his, noticing some bruising already starting to form. "I'll git ya sum ice for it." He stood up, walking to the fridge to get an ice pack.
Maya tried not to wince as Ryden inspected her hand. Now that she was thinking about it, it actually hurt a lot. Worse was the fact she was certain that it had hurt her more than the person she'd punched. "Thanks," she replied. She dragged herself to her feet too. The world was a little topsy-turvy, but she'd certainly been more drunk. She leaned on the counter with her uninjured hand to steady herself.
"Girl, do ya even know how to thrown a punch? Next time, go for the throat, okay? Right in the Adam's apple." Taking Maya's hand again, Ryden pressed the ice pack over it. "Hold it. I'll go fetch the first aid to wrap it up. It's in the bathroom, right?"
It's not my fault he was especially thick skulled. On humans that totally works," Maya argued. It was her own fault, really, for thinking that she could punch a werewolf. She did as instructed, holding the ice pack to her injured hand and nodding.
 Ryden laughed, "Nope, that one was human. The two Ruby brought down were weres. Be right back." He slipped out of the kitchen upstairs to the bathroom and totally peeked on Ruby showering while he retrieved the first aid kit.
"You won't even let me have that?" Maya shouted after him. With a sigh, she picked up the whiskey bottle while balancing the ice pack on her hand. She took a long pull before putting it away again. She then went back to holding the ice pack to her hand.
When Ryden returned, he had the stuff needed to bandage up Maya's arm and reduce any swelling. He set those things on the counter before taking her hand to work the bandage around it. "Ya hungry, by the way? I can mix a late snack up."
 As he worked, Maya tried hard not to show that it hurt. As far as all the pain she'd experienced, this paled in comparison. But it did hurt. She shook her head when Ryden asked if she was hungry. "Kind of lost my appetite," she replied. "I just..." she paused and her gaze dropped to his mouth for a half a second. She quickly flicked it back up to his grey eyes, "I just don't want to think any more tonight if I can help it."
"Mhmmm..." Like Ryden hadn't noticed from this up close where her eyes wandered. He raised an eyebrow as he tightened the bandage as gently as he could. "This is yer handjob hand. Yer useless now so drop that thought. And you'll fuckin' eat whatever I make, cause if not, I'll guilt trip ya to hell 'bout it." Because she had to eat something. He was pretty sure he hadn't properly in a while.
Maya laughed, knowing when she was totally called out. "Who said anything about a hand job? I had much better ideas than a hand job," she teased. She also could tell by his tone of voice that she was going to be eating, appetite or not. And all things considered, she probably should. She held her hands up in fake surrender, "Okay, okay I'll eat. Although we should probably skip dessert. I wouldn't trust anything I made in the last few weeks to be not emotionally unstable."
Ruby had to get the smell of the other wolves off her before she could do anything else. Ryden had moved off to sit with Maya, so Ruby went up to grab a quick shower. She closed the door so she wouldn't overhear anything the others might have to say to each other without her there, but when Ryden came in she sprayed water at him. "Ass," she smiled, though it was a bit less bright than usual. Slipping her underwear back on once she'd dried off, Ruby toweled off her hair and padded out into the adjoining room. Without being too nosy, she snagged the first shirt that looked big enough to cover most of her and pulled it on. She made sure the others could hear her coming as she padded down the stairs and joined them in the kitchen, leaning against the doorjamb as she observed them. "I heard food, booze, and handjobs... sounds like my kinda night."
 "Aww, fuck me sideways, I'm surrounded by horny spinsters." Ryden laughed when, again, the both of them ganged up on him with sexual innuendos. He'd finished with Maya's hand, putting the first aid kit away. He went for the fridge then, to see what he could find to make a decent meal for three. "It's gonna be an omelette. Cause that's pretty much all I can make and luckily, the only thing available cause that one don't think grocery shopping is a thing."
"Who you callin' spinster?" Ruby tossed a pen from the counter at him as he moved to the fridge.
"I think you may be the only man in the entire world who would think that's a bad thing," Maya teased, "I'm pretty sure it's the plot of a least a fifth of pornos." Given what he'd just said though, it was good natured teasing and nothing more. As he started on food, she sat on one of the stools at the kitchen island, knowing that her drinking would be kicking in full force any minute. Turning to Ruby, Maya asked, "You okay?"
Ryden ducked to avoid the pen thrown at him, amused. "Yeah, well, it sucks when yer all talk and no walk." Then he proceeded to make the promised food, giving the girls a minute too.
Ruby was absently rubbing her neck where the wire - some sort of silver alloy apparently - had cut into her skin. A barely there red line was slowly fading, and it didnt' hurt, but only now was Ruby starting to think about what had nearly happened. "Hmm? Yeah, I'm alright. Little weirded out... a lot pissed off... but otherwise I'm good."
Maya only laughed when Ryden accused Ruby of being all talk and no walk. From what she knew of her friend, there was still plenty of chance for walk. Although given what else Maya knew about Ruby and her feelings that window was likely rapidly closing. She nodded when Ruby explained how she felt. "Yeah, I think that's the general feeling tonight," she agreed. She glanced between Ryden and Ruby. "Oh, does anyone want anything to drink? Water? Tea? I didn't finish off the whiskey?"
She didn't ask Maya how she was, because Ruby could tell. Maya wasn't great. "I mean... if you think you can make eggs with a hand in your pants... go right ahead,” she said to Ryden.  "You owe me whiskey anyway," Ruby murmured to Maya, snagging the bottle the others had been drinking from and taking a long pull as she perched up on the counter. She let the bottle dangle from her hand. There were things she wanted to ask, but she also wanted to forget what had happened as well. Just for a bit. She took another long drink, wincing at the burn, but glad for it too.
 "I have nothin' t'say to that." Ryden confessed, lips pressed into a tight line. "Make me coffee." He requested from Maya instead, as he prepped the pan for the omelette he was about to make.
Maya started making a whole pot of coffee. She could probably use some too. It was a little difficult with her hand bandaged the way it was, but she didn't complain. Instead, she worked quietly while Ryden worked at the stove.
Ruby watched the others work, slowly draining the bottle of alcohol as the food and coffee made. It all smelled amazing, and Ruby started to slowly feel a bit better. "Alright... its too quiet," Ruby said after a minute. She slipped off the counter, taking the bottle with her and moved to snag her phone. She turned on some low music, nothing too loud, just enough to fill the space a bit.
Although he hadn't made an effort to fill up the silence, after a minute, Ryden did make his hips twitch a little to the beat of the music from Ruby's phone. He was done with the food now and moved the pan to the counter, putting something underneath because it was still hot. He produced three forks and handed the around, stabbing into the pan first for a bite. He never stopped jiggling a little to the beat of Ruby's music while at it.
Once she was eating, Maya realized just how hungry she was. For a moment, until her plate was clean, she focused on that. After depositing her dish in the sink for later though, she took one of Ruby's hands with her good one and pulled her out to dance in the empty space between the living room and kitchen.
Ruby took her fork with a murmur of thanks and ate her share of the food, which was really good. She still had the whiskey bottle - nearly gone by now - in her hand when Maya snagged her out into the kitchen. As always, Maya was warm and smelled good, so Ruby danced close, enjoying the distraction. If she didn't do something, she would end up asking questions, and that wasn't what she wanted to do right now. Not with the sounds of chanting and religious fervor still ringing in her ears. Or with the thoughts of what might've happened to Maya if she and Ryden hadn't been there. The hand holding the bottle twisted a bit in the fabric of Maya's shirt.
After eating up the rest of what the girls left because you never throw away food, Ryden joined them, dancing silly in comparison to how Maya and Ruby did but he didn't mind being the comic relief right now. He wiggled his way between them until they formed one very awkward sandwich with Ryden rocking them obnoxiously, killing all the potential for a romantic mood but at least hopefully making them laugh a little.
The events of the night, and honestly of the last few months, weighed heavily on Maya as it all wound down. Her eyelids started to droop as her movements slowed. After a minute or two, she rested her head against Ryden between them, eyes fully closed. All things considered it was a miracle she'd stayed up this long.
 Ryden eventually slowed down, just content to sway while keeping both women close. He felt Maya relax against them, her body growing heavy and movement sluggish. "Aww shit, she gunna make me carry her to bed again." He grinned, more to himself than Ruby. "Nap time, I guess. C'mon, girl." He swooped Maya up, meaning to get her upstairs to her room.
Ruby was content to just lean against the warm bundle of her friends. The whiskey had warmed her too, and she swayed along with them until Ryden moved to take Maya upstairs. She smiled at Ryden's comment, idly thinking she'd love someone to carry her up to bed, and to stay afterwards. Just to sleep. Nothing more. So she wondered if it was alright to follow. Not wanting to intrude but also not wanting to pack off to her house to sleep alone again. For now, she followed, leaning on the doorframe to watch Ryden put Maya to bed. Something fluttered past the window, and Ruby moved to look outside, but it was just a pigeon roosting for the night. She pulled the blinds tight.
 By the time Ryden got her up to her bedroom, Maya was almost entirely asleep. She'd grasped his shirt when he swooped her up. She didn't let go when he put her down in her bed.
Of course it was fine for Ruby to follow. When Ryden put Maya down, he whispered to Ruby as she shut the blinds. "Guess we sleepin' like a pile o'puppies again. Shit I do for friends, that threesome better actually happen." He grinned at her as he slipped onto the bed next to Maya. Maybe she'll let go at some point so he could at least take his shirt off.
Ruby slipped into the bed behind Ryden. "I like puppies." She felt better knowing that she was welcome in the pile. "Yeah, yeah..." Ruby said quietly, giving his arm a rub. "You're so mistreated."
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kwrittink · 5 years
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Punica Granatum - 1
Pairing: Hades!TaeHyung x Persephone!Reader
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: Language, mentions of psychologic abuse,  
Words: 4,877
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"Don't forget to water the daisies, dear." The voice of your mother snapped you from whatever unimportant daydream you were having, hand straightening the watering pot before you drowned the poor lilies, turning to her and smiling a little sad, as you watched her get ready to go out. It's been a while I walked outside...
 Your mother wasn't a cruel one, rather very loving and caring, but also very overprotective. Borderline obsessive with my well-being, to be honest.
 Sigh.
 As she walked away, you resumed watering the little garden that you had made in your room, by the big glass window that faced the forest surrounding your home, a ray of sunshine always present at that side and perfect for growing all of your plants.
 You’ve been fairly content living your whole life under your mother’s wings, in the little world she constructed to have you always under her sight and comfortable enough to not move, feeding you with knowledge and incredible worlds of fantasy, so much that whenever the real one you lived in was mentioned, it looked bland and boring in your opinion. You decided to strive for happiness in books instead.
 But after a while, it wasn’t enough. Even if the mansion where you lived with your mother was filled with books of endless subjects, you felt that your hunger for knowledge wouldn’t be sated with just that. You read about some parts of the world that matched descriptions of some tales of your childhood, watched documentaries over phenomena that left you startled, scared and amazed, and wanted to touch that, to live all of that. To get out and smell the different airs, taste the waters, and see the different colors of the earth; suddenly aware the world could be the stage to your own tale.
Suggesting that to your mother, on the other hand, was like talking to a wall. Being so used to you in the mansion, she couldn’t bear one single night without you, and you knew it pained her to leave you when she was needed at her work, but it was mostly because she was scared.
There was something, someone she would always mention when discussing the reasons why you couldn’t even walk alone to the supermarket or the park that made you extremely curious. For some time you wondered if it was your father, that had abandoned the two of you when you were just a baby, but lost the conviction when your mother once mentioned he was dead. Still, sometimes that presence slipped on her speech, and it left you itching with curiosity.
 Yet, you dropped the subject quickly nowadays, settling for just occupying your mind with your little garden and some writing, occasionally reading something. One day you would gather courage and just leave, do whatever you wanted.
 Something within you told the moment was arriving quickly.
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 “Having searched the entire living land, Demeter finally contacted Zeus. He informed her of Persephone’s marriage to Hades in the Underworld. Demeter grew into a motherly rage. She demanded Zeus to return Persephone to her care.
 But Zeus refused.
 Demeter left Olympus and watched as the earth began to decay without her nurture. She sought to punish Zeus for betraying her and their daughter. The now yellow meadows blackened and decomposed to dust. The trees began to shrink into the hard dirt. The rivers shriveled up, and the lakes froze over.
Zeus had no other choice but to agree to Demeter’s demands.
 He told Hermes, the messenger, to bring Persephone back up to Demeter’s care.
 In the Underworld, Persephone had grown to love Hades, who treated her with compassion and loved her as his Queen. As she would have up in Olympus, she remained eternally beautiful in the Underworld. Hades admired her kind and nurturing nature. However, Persephone missed her dear mother greatly and wished to spend time on earth with her.
When Hermes reached the Underworld, he requested that Persephone come back to earth with him to rejoin her mother and father. Hades knew he could not refuse the commands of Zeus, but he also could not part from his beloved Persephone.
 Before she departed from the Underworld, Hades offered Persephone a pomegranate as a farewell. This was, however, a cunning move by Hades. All the Olympians knew that if anyone ate or drank anything in the Underworld they would be destined to remain there for eternity, as the Fates had cautioned. Even Demeter had warned Persephone of this fate and instructed her never to eat or drink anything.
 Thinking of her mother, Persephone decided to, instead, eat the small seeds of the pomegranate – assuming that these would not count as consumption.
 Little did Persephone know-”
 A loud bang interrupted your reading - studying, since you had a morbid interest for the old gods and their stories, even if your mother would flip her shit if she knew - and looked towards the source of noise a little startled, but immediately spotted the small animal tossing desperately on the floor, right outside the glass windows. You recognized it right away, having encountered them many times over the years since for some reason the poor things seemed to be drawn by you - or the flowers you harvested, at least.
 “C’mon little bat, I’ll help you inside.” As opening the window, you reached down to pick up what at first glance looked like a mix of a small dog and a bird, a cute little mammal that practically clung to your arm as you gently grabbed it. “There you go. You’re one of those that eat fruits, aren’t you? Did you came for my- Oh dear, you’re hurt!” You cooed, noticing suddenly how one of its wings was bent in a weird angle, indicated it was broken. You needed to help it, or else it would die.
Tending for it as better as you could, you wrapped it on warm towels and fed it mangoes, since it suffered quite a great deal for having its wing put into place, gladly just dislocated, and not broken. You pet it softly as the little bat sniffed the air around him, not sure to be safe but calm enough in your presence.
“Don’t worry, I’ll let you go in a bit. I just want you to eat a little more and then you’re free to fly for the rest of the night, I guess.” You spoke to it softly, having the small ears twisting to the source of the sound. Chuckling, you gave another piece of mango to the bat, watching as it ate quickly. How long was he flailing around with a wing like that? Maybe it wasn’t even able to feed correctly… Your heart squeezed at that, always so soft for the creatures of the world, knowing but not into terms with the fact that one day, it would fall to the life’s cycle and die, like all things. It was the reason why you didn’t want to own any pets so you wouldn’t feel so sad by witnessing their end.
 Death is necessary but doesn’t mean it’s pretty.
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Huffing, you threw yourself on the bed, hands going to cover your angered expression and trying to calm down. Once again you had discussed with your mother about going outside alone and whatnot, countering every argument she came with - till she got emotional. That was what pissed you off, having her make a whole deal of tears and later anger as a way to back you off from whatever decision you tried to set your foot down.
 I should just leave the house, at least for once and show her that I’m not a child under her control anymore, you thought suddenly, torso raising from the bed and eyes immediately meeting your mirror, the reflected image of you blocking the view to your open glass windows, where the moonlight peeked inside, casting its silver glow on the maroon carpet of your room.
 Getting up, you padded towards the window, anger still boiling in your blood as you glanced around, trying to decide which direction you should go. The mansion you called home was deeply set in the middle of a reserve, surrounded by it and practically detached from the city, wasn’t for the wide road that leads to the nearest avenue and in a twenty-minute trip by car got to town, where all the other normal and free human beings were. There wasn’t a way you could walk through the front of the mansion without being noticed, and you didn’t want to bother explaining - or lying - to someone why you were outside. Still, the city is not where I want to go. Turning your head to the left, your eyes met the forest, the little fence that surrounded it, and the old gate that connected your house to a pathway from when the reserve was open to the public, a small park just the outside of it.
The place called for you often, and many times you caught yourself sighing while wondering what beauties that ‘abandoned’ place - not that a forest couldn’t take care of itself, more so if humans left it in peace - had, wilderness making your fingers tingle.
Before you could back out, you pushed aside plant pots and jumped out your window, glad the whole house was on a single floor and took off running through the grass, not even sparing a glance back before you got to the gate.
Stopping there, you observed the rusty metal, fingers touching cold chains, and prodding at the padlock, trying to figure out a way to go through. I guess I’ll have to jump over. You sighed, eyes moving to the edge of the fence, wondering if the metal bars were strong enough to hold your weight. It looked firm, even after you gave a first experimental tug and breathed out, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you placed your slipper clad right foot at the horizontal bar and steadied yourself, glancing to the sides timidly.
 Artemis help me.
 An hour later, walking through the empty path that leads to - where? Perhaps you’d find out - nowhere, you cursed at your choice of clothing since you were in such a rush to get out of the mansion you didn’t even bother to put something warmer on, walking around in the flimsy white dress you had sported all day long.
 Crossing your arms over your middle, you tried to maintain your body warmth, relentlessly walking through the stone path. You could always go back and fetch a coat, but you knew deep within you that once you stepped inside again, you would chicken out and stay in the security of your room.
You kept on walking, glancing around the trees and trying to distinguish each detail from the forest, a feeling of coziness taking over you even with the chills. You weren’t afraid of the woods by the least, feeling yourself part of it intricately and inexplicably, relishing on the little sounds it provided as a lullaby.
You didn’t know how long you were walking when you spotted the first bench at the reserve and was glad to have a rest finally, even if it was so refreshing to be out in the open, but you’ve been so stuck inside your home that the long path was taking a toll on your feet. These shoes weren’t made for walking at all. You breathed out, stepping quickly towards sweet relief - low-key wishing you had brought at least water, but who would have known you’d walk so much - but halted your movements as soon as the image of the seat became clearer, noticing that in fact the spot you craved for was taken.
Shuddering, you locked eyes with the man sitting so casually on that abandoned park, neat clothes - suit colored a burgundy so deep it could be mistaken by black at that lightning, like the blood that was running fast in your veins - contrasting so harshly to the colorless and somber surroundings, but fitting so well the pitch black of his eyes, framed by grey locks.
He was beautiful, so much it was the cause of the fast pounding of your heart, rather than any fear you could harbor for the unknown being.
It felt like an eternity, to stare at him and be stared back and you barely noticed your feet moving forward as if having a will of their own, stopping only until you were standing right in front of him, body quivering slightly.
 "Hello, there."
His voice startled you, more so the small smile his lips formed upon looking up at your face. Your mouth gaped, trying to muster words while the deep tone of his voice still echoed through your body. Not once in your life you felt so disabled, rendered to a trembling mess, arms tightening around your own figure to try and protect you from the chill of the night.
"You look like you're really cold. Here, have this." The man got up, and you couldn't move, feet rooted to the ground. You had a feeling he was tall, long legs clad in pants the same color of his coat suit - which he removed at that moment, revealing black silk dress shirt underneath - making him stand tall above you, towering over your figure as he approached and covered your shoulders with his suit, the large size of the clothing hugging you warmly, immediately shielding you from the breeze.
"Th-Thank you but... Won't you be cold?" You finally managed to look away from his face, only to glance down to his lips as a grin graced his face.
"Oh, so she has a voice. Thought you were just one of the other ghosts that roam around here." Quipped, teeth peeking out as he smiled harder at your curious head tilt. "I'll be okay, this temperature is nothing compared to my heart right now." Answering the previous question he only made you roll your eyes at the attempt of a cool remark, and if you weren't feeling so protected by his suit you would have given it back and walked away.
"Coldness of heart sometimes just means lack of warmth, not absence of feelings." You recited, knowing it was from a book you had once read but had no idea of the title of it at the moment. Blank expression stared back, and for a second you wondered if you offended him in any way. Some people don’t like to be contradicted when they want to look strong.
“Well, that is precisely my point, if anyone ever bothered to understand.” A breathtaking smile took place of his features, and to say you were startled was an understatement. “Come to sit, let’s talk for a little… You’re really interesting.”
 For an instant you were taken aback by the proposition, finally thinking about how dangerous the situation you were putting yourself was. You had already made too many mistakes if you were to count on your mother’s book, and by then you really didn’t have a way out of there.
 But if he wanted to do something bad to me, he would have already, wouldn’t he? The thought struck you suddenly, and your eyes wandered to the spot the stranger was patting by his side after sitting down himself.
 Mentally waving your worries away you stepped forward, sitting maybe a little closer to his body than you intended to. His eyes never left you, not even for a single moment - as if you were going to disappear, just like the ghosts he mentioned before. It didn’t bother you, even if you knew it should. You were alone in an abandoned park, completely unreachable with a man you had no idea who he was, being stared at like you were some volume he wanted to read it whole and at once.
 “What did you mean by interesting?” You asked, fidgeting when his stare turned a little too much and you could feel your cheeks heating up wondering why would he look so much at you.
 “You don’t give anything out, as much as I look at you. Also, you don’t seem to be the least frightened by me, though I don’t know if that is hot or just plain stupid.” Explained, out of the bat blunt. You nodded slowly at his answer, surprised and a little offended, but knowing he was right. It is stupid.
 “Why should I be afraid of you?” Silence followed your question, as you saw his lips part to give you an immediate answer as before, but it never came. Instead, you could only hear the critters and the never-stopping rustling of leaves, resulting in the constant breeze on that path. Daring to stare back at his eyes, you found yourself wanting to smile at the sight of his conflicted eyes, searching for words like you had made him the most difficult question of his existence.
 “Because… Because everyone else seems to be terrified of me.” His mutter was not far from a whisper, and if your surroundings weren’t completely silent, you wouldn’t have heard it. “At least normal people seem to be.” The corner of his mouth curled up as his eyes diverted from yours for the first time ever like he was timid for a moment. It made you stifle a laugh against the sleeve of his coat, drawing his attention back to you all over again.
 “Well, I am very sure I can’t be considered normal. It’s dark and I’m alone with a man I’ve just met, no one around me-”
 “I’m TaeHyung,” He blurted, like knowing his name would just solve everything else. “Kim TaeHyun.” You only noticed the hand he extended a second later, reaching for it softly. For the second time that night, a shudder ran all over your body as soon as your skin connected to his.
 His hand was cold, but not enough to cause the reaction. Long fingers and big palm practically swallowed your own but he never squeezed it hard, tan skin soft to the touch.
 “Y/N.” You didn’t even think about giving him a different name, just in case. He looked so sincere and you deemed okay to trust him then. Upon hearing your name he smiled again lightly, shaking your hand slightly.
 “Y/N.” Parroted, letting your hand go hesitantly and retreating his own to his lap. “So, what exactly are you doing here alone in this old park?”
 The question wasn’t hard, but at the same time, your reasons looked too personal and too simple for a person like him to understand.
 “Nothing much. Getting in touch with nature, clearing my mind.” You tried, averting your eyes from his face. TaeHyung hummed a deep sound that was almost comforting and rumbled inside your chest.
 “I could say the same thing, but we both know that wouldn’t be honest.” He caught on my lie, you noticed, heat creeping up your neck as your eyes snapped back to him, noticing his smirk. You swallowed hard.
 “I was looking for something.”
 “Me too.”
 Grimacing, you shook your head at his response, thinking he was making fun of you. “Really? And what you were looking for?” Squinting at him, you prompted the man to snicker.
 “I don’t know.” He shrugged looking up, perhaps at the moon that hid this whole time behind some clouds, providing little lighting to the land. Weren’t the old lamps dotted along the paths that still worked - even if faintly - by some unknown force, you would be completely in the dark with him. “I just felt a pull towards here, to be honest. I arrived just a little before you did.” He explained, glancing back down with some sort of joyful glint in his eyes. “What about you?”
 You had been too absorbed taking in his features - soft latte skin, the sharpness of his jaw, the soft bow of his upper lip, and plumpness of the lower. The smooth lines of his nose, the little mole on the tip- “Hm?” Shaking your head, you looked away from his face, trying to put your head in place. You haven’t met many people in your life - well, because of your mother you had, but never spoke to them in this level of closeness - but no one had made you so… Disconcerted like he was making you. It was a hard feature to fluster you, being educated to be above wooing and flirting.
 But TaeHyung - the man was only looking at you, and for some reason, he didn’t need words to convey what he was feeling or trying to say. At that moment, he was confirming his awareness at your admiring and acknowledged it pleased.
 “I… Honestly that will sound silly, but I was looking for…” You started, licking at your lips embarrassed, picking at the sleeves of your borrowed coat. Well, after this I won’t ever see him again, you realized, gathering the courage to just say the word. “Freedom.”
 “Ah, I see...” He trailed off, waiting till you looked up at his face. “A golden cage it’s still just a cage, huh?”
 Your heart probably had stopped beating at that point, while you stared back at the deep void of his eyes, that proposed a trip without return once one sank in. The quote echoed in your soul loud and clear, throat closing up and tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. Read like a book. The change of TaeHyung’s expression was immediate upon seeing your teary eyes, panic widening his own for the first time. “I’m sorry to have upset you, it wasn’t my intention at all- My gods why am I such a jerk, I should just keep my mouth shut, Zeus smite me-”
His words prompted you to snort at the next second, and that perhaps startled him a bit, as the little jolt back showed. Blinking away the tears you chuckled harder at his expression, the confused crease between his full brows endearing to you.
 “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to react like that and scare you, I’m really sorry.” You were the one to start apologizing then, placing your hands on your face a little embarrassed by not being able to stop laughing. “You just… You asked Zeus to smite you, and I don’t think I’ve heard anyone say that sort of thing in my life.” Besides me, you wanted to say. If there were deities you believed on, it was the Greek gods, thought the stories written sometimes were a little too exaggerated, even if constant. Understandable, since they were written by humans.
 “Oh, that? A silly habit of mine… My friends tell me I’m really weird sometimes.” You glanced back at him on time to see him averting his own gaze, hand scratching his neck awkwardly. It was refreshing seeing him lose a little of the facade he had on, the cool and sort of mysterious man he wanted to pass on, though the hint of danger was still there, but for some reason not in a bad way? If that made sense.
 “So you’re interested in them?” You started, bringing TaeHyung’s attention back to you, as he snapped away from his thoughts. “The Greek gods, I mean. Do you believe in them too?” You added, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
 In the small space of time, you had spent with that man you had seen him smile, but the one wide grin that spread on his face was groundbreakingly gorgeous. He scoffed, head dropping and eyes meeting his lap, giving your widen eyes a rest as well as your heart, that had started once again a fast pace.
 “If I believe them? They’re alive dear, don’t you know?”
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You came back right before the sunrise, a feeling of a renewed soul that warmed your very bones. Slipping back inside your room, you smiled while taking off the suit coat, which you only then realized was with you.
 It had been such a long while to have a refreshing conversation with someone, you felt your soul was cleansed after the time you spent with TaeHyung. Of course, he said some weird stuff sometimes, but overall it was endearing. You sighed, pulling the wardrobe door open and putting the clothing in, wanting to keep it as a small token of the night you had spent.
Yet, you couldn’t let yourself smile at the content feeling on your heart since your door was being violently pushed open, and your very livid mother walked in, stopping midway to eye your slightly dusty and startled figure, as your back pressed against the closet doors.
 "Where were you, Y/N? I was so worried!" Her expression was pained and you felt the urge to look away from her face, suddenly struck with guilt.
 "At the abandoned park not far from here. Thought you had seen my note, mother." You lied, stepping away from the furniture and sitting on the bed, trying to keep calm. You didn’t want to start another fight with her and ruin the perfect mood you were in.
 She scoffed, walking towards your slightly trembling frame - for some reason it felt really cold inside your room - and frowned. "Still, you went alone! And it's so dark outside, what if something happened to you?"
"But nothing did, mom! I was feeling so stuck, I just needed to walk for a bit. Didn't think you'd mind so much." You tried to explain, a deep crease digging between your eyebrows as well. Your mother's expression softened a little.
"I did, and I do, my child." She shook her head, sighing exasperatedly. "If you wanted to leave for a while, you could just have told me and I would have accompanied you, take you somewhere nice and-"
She doesn't understand, does she? "I just wanted to be alone for a while." Shutting your eyes tight, you could only feel the bed dip by your side as she sat, hands resting over yours.
"You have to understand it's dangerous. You're very precious to me, daughter." You still didn't want to look at her, a lump in your throat, the need to try and make her see how much you needed the air outside, the wild, just like a plant needs fresh air and space to grow. "What if something happened to you? If he found- If someone kidnapped you I'd die."
 He? Who is he? You frowned, finally looking at her and opening your mouth to inquire about that 'he' your mother always mentioned, one way or another. She's always talking about an unknown person, someone that is supposedly always threatening us - me, in fact - but she never names it.
 But before you could utter a word, she stood and twirled on her feet, walking out of your room, any sign of desperation on her face erased completely. "Look, I'm doing this for your own good, this world is too dangerous for you to be wandering around so innocently." The crease between your brows deepened, head tilting in questioning till you saw a golden object glimmering in her hand, and with panic shooting through your veins, you recognized it to be the key to your room, always in the back of your door.
 "Mom? What are you doing? Mom?" You shot up and ran towards the door, eyes wide snapping from the key to her face, worried expression masking the unfaltering decision she had made. "You can't be serious right now!" Lower lip quivering, you tried to appeal to her heart, only having her eyes diverting from yours as a response.
 "Y/N, you have to understand. I can't let you roam around knowing he's still around. There are dangers you do not understand, child." The answer made anger boil in your gut, the mention of he making your jaw clench.
 "Mother, I am no child, you're well aware of this. You can't lock me forever here! And who the hell is he?"
Icy eyes met yours as she moved away, holding the doorknob in one hand. "One day you will know why I'm doing this... I'll tell you when it's right."
"You can't expect me to just be locked away with no apparent reason!"
"You'll have to trust me-"
"NO! It's my life you're stopping me from living and-"
 Without letting you finish she closed the door with a bang, quickly locking it before you could even react. You gasped surprised, palms meeting the white hardwood of your door, banging on it while tears ran down your face unrestrained. It wasn't like you didn't have a way out, you could always jump through the window like you had just done, it was the control your mother had in your will. The locked door was almost a symbol of her power, though you knew that she probably already moved the staff to watch every place you could run from.
You were just doomed, even if surrounded by the things you loved the most. A golden cage it's still just a cage, after all.
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thesoftdumbass · 6 years
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Winged Men and Demigods
Jim Kirk x reader
1 Year Anniversary Challenge: Ancient Greece Myth
Summary: You are a demigod, the daughter of Selene, goddess of the moon. You are sent on a quest to capture storm-spirits, monsters, and receive some help along the way in the form of a winged man with blond hair and striking blue eyes. 
Word Count: 6.6 K
Warnings: slight anxiety, weapons, fighting, storms, slight feelings of inadequacy, inferences of sexy times. Not beta’d. Barely edited. Lord help us.
Characters: Pythia, Nyota Uhura, Pavel Chekov, Hikaru Sulu, Spock, Christopher Pike, Montgomery “Scotty” Scott, Leonard McCoy, Jim Kirk
Tags: @yourtropegirl @starshiphufflebadger @annathewitch
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Walking around the garden of your small home in Delphi, Greece, watering the anemone and pulling weeds, you sense a presence behind you. Bending over casually as if smelling one of your flowers, you reach into the slit in your dress and unsheathe the celestial bronze dagger from your thigh holder. With precise movements, you spin in your place and hold the knife to the throat of the person invading your home.
“Am I supposed to feel threatened, demigod?” The Oracle of Delphi stands in front of you in her robes of bronze and scarlet, her face blank. You immediately remove the weapon, re-sheathe it and step back, bowing and then standing, your back straight with respect.
“I apologize, Pythia. I did not know that it was you.”
“Apparently,” she says, looking you over skeptically. “I am surprised you did not use your mother’s weapon.”
You smile sheepishly, twirling the ring on your finger. “You could have been anybody. I don’t want a stranger knowing my secret. Only you and the other demigods at the Temple know that I am half human. Unleashing the weapon could expose me”
“That is wise, young demigod,” she nods in approval.
“I do have a name, Pythia. Besides, I am no younger than you,” you point out.
“I am much older than I look, YN,” she puts an accent on your name and gives a small smirk. “You must be wondering why I have come to you.”
“It has crossed my mind, yes. Is something wrong?”
The Oracle sits down on a nearby bench and gestures for you to join her. You do, and after a few minutes of silence, she starts speaking. “Do you know of the Hurricane Winds?” Remembering the scrolls that you read from during your training when you were young, you nod your head. “So you must remember that they are kept on an island far away from civilization, under the rule of Aeolus.”
“Of course, they are only released when the gods need them,” you recall.
“Two of the Anemoi Thuellai have escaped the island, as I saw last night. Nobody knows how, but they need to be taken back before they cause irreparable damage to the mortal world. You and two other demigods will seek out and capture the storm spirits to be taken back to Aeolus. Your partners for the journey will join you at the Temple of Apollo in two days. Make sure you are ready to leave then.”
And so you were. Two days later, you left your home in the morning and made the walk to the Temple, carrying a pack filled with anything you might need on your journey; clothes, weapons, money, food, and maps of Greece.
You walk into the Temple around noon, the sun brightly shining down on you. Making your way to where the Pythia is, you see her standing with two other people, and you observe them as you walk. The woman is beautiful, dark skin and long silky hair, her almond shaped eyes set off by perfect cheekbones. The man that is with them, though he is clearly younger than you, is handsome as well. Blond hair sits in curls on top of his head, and his bright eyes widen as he catches sight of you nearing the group, a smile gracing his face.
“You must be YN!” he exclaims as you reach them.
“I am. And you are…” you say with an unsure smile.
“Chekov, Pavel Andreievich,” he steps forward and offers his hand, which you shake.
“I am Nyota Uhura,” the woman introduces with a smile and nod of her head.
“It is nice to meet you both.”
The Pythia let you get introductions out but decided to get to business. “The three of you can get to know each other better while on the journey. Right now there are things to discuss.”
Nyota, Pavel, and yourself nod respectfully and let her speak.
“I received a vision from Apollo last night. He told me that you need to consult the Anemoi. They can help you find the venti and capture them, you only have to be respectful of them. There is a boat at the docks waiting to take you to Thrace.”
“Will the wind gods know where the venti are, or do we have to search all of Greece?” Pavel asks, concerned.
“They will be able to tell you where to go,” she answers assuringly.
After this the Pythia walks you out of the Temple, leading you down the mountain and to the dock. The white sails of the ship flap in the breeze, the promise of smooth sailing ahead. Right before you walk up the ramp to board, the Oracle stops you.
“I wish you luck on your quest, may the gods be with you and protect you.”
“Thank you, Pythia. We will do what we have been chosen for,” you say.
You hear Pavel and Nyota also say farewells but you don’t want to eavesdrop, so you walk onto the ship and look around. You notice the captain walk across the deck, and your companions join you as he reaches where you are standing.
“My name is Captain Hikaru Sulu, welcome aboard. It’s an honor to have half-bloods with us,” he says warmly, his face adorned with a smile.
“It’s nice to meet you, Captain,” Uhura says respectfully.
“We are ready to set sail, it should just be a few minutes now.”
“Can we pray before we go? I would like to ask for safe passage from my father,” Pavel asks modestly.
“Of course.”
The four of you gather into a circle on the deck of the ship, your hands joined and heads bowed, and Chekov starts to speak in his thick accent.
“Poseidon, we ask for safe travel over the sea, and for luck with our quest. Please protect my new friends and I as we journey to Thrace, and then wherever else the gods send us.”
With a few words of thanks and a promise to send burnt offerings at the next opportunity, you set off. Captain Sulu shows you to your quarters, three separate bedrooms on the same deck, and you settle in for the long journey, putting away the few things you brought with you and pacing around the room.
You have no idea what you’re up against, and even though you are a trained demigod with strength surpassing that of the average mortal, you are scared of what awaits you.
You head to dinner after failing to rest, your mind far too worked up for that, and are given a plate. You sit down at a nearby table and find yourself accompanied by Nyota and Pavel. You sit with them while they make small talk, content to just listen, but Pavel brings you into the conversation.
“I think we should all get to know each other better. YN, do you want to start? You haven’t talked much.”
“I guess so,” you clear your throat, “I wasn’t raised by my parents. I grew up at the Temple of Apollo, training for the day when I could help people, but this is my first quest. I moved into town when I came of age and have stayed there since.” You shrug, not knowing what else they would want to know about you.”
“What about your godly parent? Do you know who they are?” Nyota asks kindly.
“My mother is Selene,” you tell them. You understand why she asks that second question. Many demigods go their whole lives without being claimed by their parent, though luckily you had been claimed at a rather young age.
“Goddess of the moon! That is very exciting. Poseidon is my father, which you may have heard earlier.” Chekov’s eyes sparkle with silent pride and you nod, chuckling.
“What about you, Nyota? Do you know your parent?” you ask, becoming more invested in the conversation.
“Hermes,” she says with a humble voice. “My father is actually the reason that I study dialect, it comes to me naturally because he is the god of language.”
“That is fantastic! The only thing I can do is swim well,” Pav admits.
They both turn to you, asking silently for your input. “I didn’t get any special abilities, I can’t lead the moon’s chariot or anything like that. I do have a weapon that my mother gave me, I only like to use it when necessary, but it is nice to have.”
You continue speaking to your new friends all throughout dinner, learning more about each other and becoming closer. That night you go to bed with positive thoughts running through your head, your anxiety about the quest held at bay as you fall asleep.
The rest of the trip to Thrace passes quickly. You spend your time learning how to fight in harmony with Nyota and Pavel, listening to the Captain tell stories about his young daughter Demora, and watching the sea pass by from the bow of the boat. Sooner than you realize, you are leaving the ship.
“Be safe, my friends. If you need anything, my crew and I will be in Thrace for another two days, we could take you where you need to go,” Captain Sulu tells the three of you as you step off the ship, clasping a hand on each of your shoulders in a sign of friendship.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Hikaru,” Uhura says sincerely, and you leave, making your way to the cavern of the Anemoi.
When you arrive at the base of Mount Haemus, you look up at it in wonder. The mountain is covered with lush green plant life and clouds encircle the snowy caps, giving the mountain a majestic beauty. You love the view, there’s just one problem.
“We don’t have to go to the top of the mountain, do we?” you question.
“If so, then I am wearing the wrong sandals to hike in,” Pavel chimes in.
“Wait, look!” Nyota points, frowning in consideration at what is happening to the mountain. Slowly lines form and shift in the stone, revealing a grand doorway of gold and midnight blue just a few feet in front of you.
You brave a step toward the door that seems to be opening by itself, but take a step back when you find that someone has appeared in the doorway. The man before you stands tall with a stiff spine and his hands behind his back, his black hair laying over his forehead uniformly.
“Welcome to Mount Haemus, half-bloods. We were sent word of your journey to reach us. Please, come in.” You give a nervous glance to your friends but follow the man as he steps back through the opening. He stands back as the three of you enter and the gilded door closes behind you. “My name is Spock. If you will come with me, please.” Spock turns around and walks down the corridor that you are currently in, causing you to follow him. You only notice after a step or two that there is a pair of wings situated on his back. The torches illuminating the corridor cast off of the black feathers, silhouetting his bird-like appendages every few steps.
To prevent yourself from staring, you turn your gaze to the floor and the shadows playing against the marble tile as you walk. Finally entering a brightly lit cavernous space and looking around, you stand in awe at the marvelous paintings and sculptures, only to notice that Spock had continued walking without you.
You catch up with the group just as they reach the back of the room where there is a platform set above the ground, and on it stands four beautiful thrones, each adorned with different fabrics and precious metals. Only the third seat is taken, and the occupant stands as you near the platform. His hair is wavy and graying. His face is impassive and his eyes watch as you approach, soft gray wings extended out to his sides and radiating authority, even as he stands with a cane.
“Sir, these are the demigods whose journey we were told of,” Spock bows to the man in front of you out of respect and you follow suit.
“Please, stand up. There’s no need to bow.” You follow his request and stand straight. “My name is Eurus, but I go by Christopher Pike around here. Call me whatever you wish, my friends. What can I call you?”
Ny is first to speak up, “My name is Nyota Uhura, daughter of Hermes. It is an honor to be here, sir.” You and Pavel follow her lead and soon introductions are made, the five of you sitting down to dinner at a lengthy table, you and your friends have not eaten since breakfast on the boat. You are joined by two other men, one of them with floppy brown hair and kind hazel eyes disguised by what seems to be a permanent scowl, the other with thinning red hair and a friendly smile. They were introduced as Leonard McCoy and Montgomery Scott, respectively.
You’re waiting for the meal to start, sitting across from Leonard and listening to him talk about the work that Hippocrates is doing in the field of modern medicine, his brown wings rippling as he speaks happily. Another person enters the dining hall, his steps echoing loudly as he rushes to a seat, finding one to your right. He lets out a profanity as he sits on his wings, one only you can hear.
You chance a look as he adjusts in his seat and your breath catches, this is possibly the most beautiful man you have ever seen. His tan skin and golden hair remind you of Apollo, but the striking blue eyes that cast over you hold depths greater even than the sea. You shake yourself out of your daze though when Chris starts speaking.
“Ahh, Jim. I was wondering if you were going to join us for supper, we’ve been waiting for you. YN, Pavel, Nyota, this is James Kirk. He’s the last of my attendants, now you’ve met everybody but my brothers.”
“Sorry I’m late, Pike, I lost track of time while reading through my scrolls. It’s a pleasure to meet everybody.”
“It’s fine, Jim. Let us eat!”
With that, dishes start moving to the table, appearing as if from thin air. The Anemoi act as though it is an everyday occurrence and maybe it is, but you are not used to it and it seems that you’re not the only one.
“How do you get the food to float through the air like that?!” Pavel’s face shows awe and wonder.
“The dishes aren’t floating, the Aurai move them. They’re breeze nymphs, most people can’t see them unless one reveals herself to you. They work here with us,” Leonard tells Pavel, who smiles like he’s just learned a secret.
Food is passed around and wine flows until your stomachs are full and your thirsts are quenched, and then Chris decides to get to business.
“So what is the reason that you’ve graced us with your presence?” he asks cordially.
“It is the Anemoi Thuellai, sir. Two of them have escaped Aeolus’ Isle, and the three of us have been sent on a quest to capture them so they can be taken back. Apollo sent us in your direction, knowing that you would be able to help us locate the storm winds,” you say in a polite voice.
Pike listens as you speak, nodding decisively when you’re finished. “I’ll send some Harpies to scout, they will be back in the morning with the information you need. You are all welcome to stay the night, of course. I will make sure your rooms are ready soon, and the four of you can head out first thing in the morning.”
“Four of us?”
“But there are only three on the quest, sir.”
Pav and Nyota speak at the same time, and Chris just smiles at the confusion.
“I’m sending one of my attendants with you. While I am sure you are very capable demigods, the venti are extremely powerful beings and you may need some help. And I would go myself, but,” he gestures to his cane and his bad leg, “I can’t go on adventures anymore.”
“So which of us is joining the quest?” Montgomery, or Scotty as you had been informed to call him, asks the group.
“I can go,” Jim volunteers without hesitation. He hasn’t left the mountain in a long time and wants to stretch his wings, but that isn’t the only reason that he wants to join. From the moment that Jim Kirk entered the dining room, he has been mesmerized by the ethereal beauty currently sitting beside him, has listened to her speak throughout the meal, and now that he has an opportunity to spend more time with her, he won’t let it pass.
“Are you sure about that, son? It will not be easy,” Pike double checks.
“I’m happy to help, Chris.” Jim gives a bright smile and you’re surprised you don’t melt at the sight.
“Alright then,” Chris claps his hands and stands up, drawing everyone’s attention. “Len, Spock, the two of you gather a party of Harpies and send them to search for the two ventus and get back to me by the morning. We need to know where they are and what they’ve been up to. Scotty, can you help me make our guests’ rooms up?” When he receives affirmations, Pike sends everyone to do their tasks.
“Do I need to do anything, sir?” Jim asks, making to stand from his chair.
“You have a lot to do in the next few days, you should rest for now.” Pike turns and addresses your friends, “I’ll tell you when your sleeping arrangements are ready,” and with that, he walks out of the room.
It’s relatively quiet as you try to come up with something to say. You are already close with Ny and Pav, but you are hesitant to say anything, lest you embarrass yourself in front of Jim. You’re saved from having to fill the silence, though, as Leonard comes to rejoin the group.
“Harpies are on their way out, we should know something by dawn,” he says, sitting back down and reaching for a drink.
“That’s good, the venti have already been gone for so long. The sooner we can get them back to the island, the better,” Ny states.
The conversation picks up after that, just small talk to pass the time, and pretty soon Eurus comes back into the room and informs you that your beds are ready, sending you off so you can rest.
The next morning you peek your eyes open slowly, letting yourself wake fully before getting up and getting dressed. Just as you are securing your weapons in place, you hear a knock on the door to your bedchamber. You are greeted by the sight of Jim standing on the other side of the door, bright eyes shining as he notices you in front of him.
“Good morning,” you greet softly.
“Good morning YN, Chris asked me to bring you to the dining room for breakfast,” Jim says, sending a smile your way.
You nod with a smile, looping your arm through Jim’s, which he offered you. When you reach your destination Jim pulls out your chair for you, making your heart skip a beat at the gesture. You murmur your thanks and earn a nod in return as Jim sits down beside you. Breakfast passes by quietly, bread and honey filling you and giving you the energy you need for the day. Soon after, Pike shares with you what he has learned.
“The Harpies that were sent to scout returned this morning with some news. The two Anemoi Thuellai that have escaped are nearby Chios, an island in the Aegean sea and off the coast of Asia Minor. We do not know why this place has drawn them, but we must stop the storm-winds. They have already caused severe disturbances in the atmosphere and need to be stopped.”
“And how do we stop them? I know we take them back to Aeolus, but how can we capture them?” Pavel asks.
“I will provide you with a bag made of ox-hide to carry the venti in. You must keep both of them busy until they are within close range of each other and then open the bag, they will be drawn in. As soon as they are inside, secure the bag and they will not be able to escape.” Chris allows you to absorb that information for a few moments before speaking again. “Now, do you have transportation to Chios island or shall I arrange for some?”
“We have a friend at the port of Thrace, he said that he would help us, he will still be at the dock,” you tell them of Hikaru and how helpful he has been.
“Wonderful. While I’m getting everything ready to go, you can spar to stay ready for the venti.”
You are led into a large training room in the cavern, covered in mats, a wall to one side loaded down with weapons. You survey the rack of swords, longing to hold the weight of your own again. You feel somebody step up beside you as your finger brushes along the edge of a shined blade, the handle glowing gold.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you hear Kirk speak reverently by your ear, one of his large hands reaching out to grasp the handle and lifting the sword from its perch.
“It is… it makes me miss using my own.”
“So why don’t you?”
You touch the adamantine ring on your right hand, wishing to unleash the weapon inside. As long as it doesn’t hurt anybody, you think, why not? “I suppose I will.”
You take a few steps and end up in the middle of the floor, looking around to make sure that no one is nearby before closing your eyes and taking a steadying breath. Channeling your energy in a short burst as you exhale, you feel the familiar weight of your blade in your grip and move your hand in a small wave, allowing the sword to swing around in a showy move. You hold it up in front of your face, the crescent-shape of the crossguard glittering in the lights of the room.
Applause breaks out around you, giving you a burst of confidence, and you rotate your sword a few times in the air around you. “Zat is incredible,” you hear Pavel’s unmistakable accent and smile.
“YN, how did you do that,” Nyota asks, impressed.
You shrug, giving a reserved smile. “I told you that I got this from my mother, well… I harness a little bit of energy from the moon and turn the ring into what it was truly made for, protection… I don’t really know how to explain it,” you say, shrugging your shoulders once more.
You look around at your friends grinning back at you, but a breath catches in your throat at the look of absolute awe on Jim’s face. He catches you looking at him though, causing your face to heat up and you to avert your eyes. Clearing his throat he steps forward, reaching a hand out to you.
“May I?”
“Of course,” you answer, thinking that he is going to compare both of your weapons, but before you can pass it over, your instincts kick in and you block the hit that he sends toward you. You bring your arm up to counter-attack, which Jim sees coming and defends. It goes like this for a few minutes before you’re bent over, hands on knees and breathing heavily. Calling it a truce, you reach out a hand to Jim, which he accepts.
Allowing your heart rate to slow back to normal, you look around you. During your sparring match, everybody had dispersed into their own fights and you watch as Nyota gains the upper hand on Spock, but before she can strike, Spock leaps to avoid her weapon, spinning mid-air with his wings folded around him in a protective cocoon before coming down several steps from her. You can’t help it, you clap your hands in admiration for the swift movements and Spock bows stiffly to show his appreciation.
You go over basic fighting maneuvers until Scotty and Chris come into the training room, the former carrying a large satchel in his hands. Chris waves his hands for everyone to gather in the middle of the room and you do, Scotty’s wings fluttering as he merrily explains how to use the special ox-skin to capture the venti.
Once the four of you have memorized the new information, you are sent to gather your belongings from your rooms and prepare to leave the cavern and Mount Haemus behind. Gathering your pack and ensuring that your sword is safely back on your finger, you make your way to the throne room to say goodbye to your host and depart.
Jim leads your group through the corridors, walking to town and back to the docks where you meet Hikaru and his crew once again. “My friends,” he greets with a smile and open arms before his eyes land on Jim standing at the back of the group. If he finds Kirk’s wings to be out of the ordinary he doesn’t let on, just introducing himself in a friendly manner.
Pavel tells Captain Sulu about the information you have received and he plots a course for Chios, setting sail not long after. This trip on the boat passes much like the first, nothing remarkable happening for the entire journey. That is until you are approaching your destination. The closer you get to the island of Chios, the rougher the seas are, sending the ship lurching in the rising waves.
High winds cause the sails to thrash uncontrollably and dark clouds become even more ominous. Sulu steers the ship into an alcove of the island to avoid rocky shores, narrowly being missed by a flash of lightning.
“Where is that storm coming from? The weather was clear only this morning,” Hikaru is confused.
“That would be the venti,” Kirk says darkly, the feathers on his wings bristling.
“I’ve read about the Anemoi Thuellai, but there is not much information about them, only that they wreak havoc over the seas,” Nyota offers.
“I’m guessing that we are about to learn a lot more about them,” Pavel swallows as the ship pitches, and you worry your bottom lip between your teeth.
“So, do we have a plan?” you ask, looking around at your group hopefully.
“Eurus told us to distract the storm-winds and get them close. I think that one of us should control the container while two others lead them to the south side of the island, away from the village. We can meet at the center of the island, opening the bag and drawing them inside. Scotty said that the ties you close it with are magic and will hold for as long as they need to, allowing us to take them to Thrace.”
“Good luck, demigods. I will be here when you get back,” Captain Sulu assures you.
Nyota’s plan is simple, but it’s a good one. Walking off the bridge and out the door onto the deck of the ship along with your friends, you are stopped by a hesitant touch to your arm. Looking back, Jim is behind you, facing you with a look that you can’t decipher. He quickly moves his hand away. A look of determination fills his face then, though his eyes display a softness.
“Be careful, YN,” he says, softer than you had heard him speak before.
“You too, Jim,” you smile, reaching for his hand and giving his fingers a comforting squeeze. Amber wings unfurl and stretch before your eyes, beating against the tempest and taking Jim into the air. You watch as he moves toward the small town on the edge of the island, ensuring that the citizens of Chios are safe and have taken shelter.
You climb over the rail on the port side of the vessel and descend the ladder into the shallow water beneath you, wind pushing waves up over your knees and making it difficult to get to your destination quickly, but you manage. You reach the shore where Ny and Chekov are waiting for you and tie your hair back, preventing the wind from whipping it around.
Nyota double checks that the ox-hide is secured to the belt around her waist and looks at you steadily, her brown eyes unwavering. “You two know what you have to do?” You and Pavel give affirmations and Uhura nods. “Bring the venti my way. Stay safe, and we’ll get these monsters back to where they belong.”
You split ways with Ny, moving alongside Pav to where the typhoon appears to be strongest. You fidget as you walk, twisting your mother’s ring around your finger. Pavel notices and asks if you are alright.
“I’m okay, Pav, thanks. I’m just anxious. I’ve never fought a storm before, and I don’t even know how effective I will be in a brawl,” you lift your arms in exasperation.
“I have no idea what I’m doing either. None of us have had to do this before, not even Jim. The best we can do is to stay level headed and put our minds to work. We will succeed.” Chekov’s assurances help clear your head, giving you confidence for the first time since you left Delphi and you tell him how much it means to you.
As you approach the Anemoi Thuellai, you hear a flapping noise even above the wind and Jim touches down beside you, hair sticking to his face from the rain that you are currently being subjected to.
“Everybody in the village is safe, I told them to stay indoors,” he says before you can ask.
“That’s good, we don’t want anybody hurt that doesn’t have to be,” Pav speaks up.
“These guys are bad news, I got a good look as I was flying overhead,” Jim warns as he removes his sword from its scabbard.
“Let’s do this, then,” you summon a bit of energy and your sword is once again held firmly in your grip. Pavel raises his spear high, letting out a loud yell and gaining the nearest storm’s attention.
That may have been a mistake.
The ventus turns toward your trio and you can barely see it from behind the wind and rain. Their entire form is made up of the storm; dark clouds swirling in a vaguely humanoid shape. Bright balls of light distinguish the beast from the storm it is creating, lightning extending out every few seconds. You look up in horror, guessing your opponent’s height to be around ten feet… far above your height.
The daimone lets out a powerful roar that sounds distinctly like thunder, causing its friend to face you also. Immediately you raise the sword in your hand, swinging at the monster nearest you. You puncture its leg and a bright light erupts from the wound, diminishing the storm clouds, but it only serves to anger it more. Lightning crackles around you and it’s as if you can taste the electricity in the air. You inflict several more wounds, dark gray slowly being replaced by a soft glow, but it’s still not enough.
You turn away quickly, preparing to run, but you’re surrounded before you can move a step. You are shielded from the wind and rain and you open your eyes only to be met by the sight of Jim. His wings wrapped around the both of you protectively and you have to stop yourself from thinking about how /soft/ they are.
You’d lost track of your friends as you fought, but Jim had been circling in the air, hitting the ventus’ defense and came to help when your adversary got too close. You still heard Pavel fighting the other monster a few hundred feet away. You look back at Jim, his face holding concern for you and you answer his unasked question.
“I’m alright.”
“Okay YN, now we need to run, we have to get over to Nyota. She’s waiting with the satchel, and I think the venti are mad enough now to chase after us. When I let you go I need you to run to the rendezvous point. I will be behind you and Chekov the whole time if you need my help.”
“Thank you,” you say breathily and lean forward to place a chaste kiss on Jim’s lips, not even noticing as his jaw goes slack in shock and happiness.
He unfurls his wings from around you after you return your sword to its original form, and you do as you were told, making a break for it. “Pav!” you yell, indicating for the younger man to follow after you. It takes a few moments but you feel his steps sync up with yours and hear him panting in exertion. You look behind you to confirm that the venti are following you and they are, their energies sparking off one another.
Facing forward again, you empty your mind of thoughts and worries and just let yourself breathe, losing yourself in the action of placing one foot in front of the other and find yourself looking at Nyota in the distance.
The world around you becomes a blur as you close in on Ny and the venti advance on the three of you. The next thing you know you’re looking up at the suddenly clear sky from between Jim’s arms, the ox-skin glowing as the storm-winds try to escape the magic containing them.
“We did it,” Pavel mutters to himself almost disbelieving, and then shouting. “We did it!”
You giggle at his excitement and allow yourself to catch your breath, tucking your head into Jim’s shoulder and reveling in the victory.
“We thank you for the help you have provided us on this quest, we will be forever grateful for your hospitality, sir,” Uhura addresses Eurus as the four of you stand in front of the platform in the throne room of Mount Haemus.
“It was my pleasure, Nyota. Thank you for bringing the venti back, now Spock has been able to return them to their isle. You are all welcome to stay as long as you wish, we need some excitement around here.” Pike addresses all three of you, but his gray eyes sparkle as they linger on you and Jim standing so close to each other. Your cheeks warm and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, averting your eyes.
You and Jim had become extremely close on the trip back to Thrace, staying up late talking, sharing your love for the stars, and getting to know each other better, so much that you began to let yourself imagine spending more time with him.
“We appreciate it, Chris. If it is acceptable, we would like to stay for a few days before making our way back to Delphi. We have been traveling for so long, and Captain Sulu and his crew need time to rest before setting sail again.”
“Any time. Your rooms are still ready from when you were last here. I will see you all at dinner,” Pike dismisses you all. You grab your bag and head for your quarters, but a voice stops you before you are halfway there.
“YN, can we talk for a few minutes?”
Jim’s voice is timid and you stop walking, curious. “Of course.”
He leads you to a library, large shelves displaying different texts and tables covered in scrolls. You take a seat at one of these tables and wait for him to speak. You can see him thinking through how to phrase his words, opening his mouth and closing it a couple times. After a few minutes, you decide to try and get him to spit it out.
“Jim,” you say softly, approaching his pacing form, and his wings flutter as he turns to face you and you smile. “Are you okay?”
This seems to do the trick, as he finally speaks what is on his mind.
“Would it be ludicrous if I asked you to stay with me? Here at the cavern, I mean. I know you have a home in Delphi and I wouldn’t want to tear you away from that, but,” he can’t seem to find the words for a moment, “I think I love you. It may seem laughable, but I have been enamored since I laid eyes on you, and fallen more and more each time we talk. I don’t want you to feel pressured into staying here, but if you want… you have a place at Mount Haemus.”
As Jim finishes his monologue, you turn your gaze to him. You had been trying to process his words, and looking into his sincere eyes, you believe him. Jim isn’t someone who would lie about something so serious, but you’re still shocked. You had never thought of yourself as anything special, your mother’s blood and protection the only thing that set you apart, but the way Jim is looking at you tells you differently. Thinking back on it, he had only ever looked at you in adoration and respect.
As you are evaluating your own feelings, Jim is silently freaking out. Did he read you wrong, and you weren’t really interested in him? Was that too much to dump on you all at once? The mute environment is too much and after a few minutes, Jim really has to say something.
“YN?” You look up into his vulnerable face, watching as he tries to deduce your thoughts. After a moment, though, he gives up. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you sorry for, Jim?”
“I… shouldn’t have rushed all of that out. I can give you time to think-”
“I love you too,” you interrupt him before he can take his invitation back, “what more is there to think about? I would love to stay here with you, if you’re still offering.”
“I am still offering,” he speaks hurriedly, reaching his arms around you in an embrace. After a minute he pulls away, brow furrowed. “What about your life in Delphi though, your friends and family?”
“I don’t have any family back there. And my friends, they are here with me. If I stay, they will surely come visit. And if I haven’t imagined it, Spock and Nyota seem to be getting familiar. I doubt it will be long before something happens between those two,” you chuckle.
“Are you sure you want to be with me,” he asks, his eyes gleaming with hope.
“I am sure. I love you, Jim,” you murmur.
The moment between the two of you changes and you feel yourself leaning towards him, your lips touching briefly. You open your eyes when you feel Jim pull back, but soon enough his lips are back on yours and your senses are engulfed by all of him.
“Let’s go tell everyone the good news, shall we,” he says, his voice husky with desire, “or better yet, maybe I can show you to your room first…”
You shudder at the unspoken proposition and lean into him further, placing a kiss to his jaw “I really like that second option…” and giggle as you take the lead down the hallway to your bed, ready for a long life ahead of you spent with Jim.
Post-A/N: So what did you guys think? I hope you enjoyed reading this! It took me so long to write, and I know it’s pretty long, but I am so glad you stuck with me ‘til the end. I know that it’s not perfect, I probably got a lot of details wrong and also left some characters in the background, but I tried. Really hard. I need sleep...
I wrote this in the present tense, as you can see. If you have a preference about which tense I use (past/present/both) then I can try to do that next time., this one just turned out this way. I hope you all have a lovely Valentine’s Day!
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sandersgrey · 6 years
Text
Light in my fingertips - Third Chapter
Apollo.
Apollo should be mad. He would be in the old days. He would demand an apology and gifts to calm the wrath of a god. Most likely, Icarus would have been dead on the spot were he not an old lover.
But he couldn’t. Not now.
Icarus…
Icarus used to be dead.
Apollo laughs, a wet and pathetic laugh, hiding his face on his hands. Wow. He didn’t expect this. Maybe he should have. Maybe he should have searched for Icarus. Maybe not. Apollo didn’t expect to have his past punching his face all of a sudden — quite literally, too. He laughs again.
Apollo feels his nose starting to heal itself and sighs. He fixes it. It had been a while since the last time Apollo had been harmed - even when his sister’s indirect protection and his own powers of charm or intimidation failed, well, he was still a god, wasn’t he? He takes care of himself — and it was a strange feeling to be the one hurt in a fight after so many years.
Apollo wants to go after Icarus, to see how he is, how was his life this time around. He aches for the chance to say “I’m sorry”. Apollo remembers. He remembers Icarus’s smile, his touches, his brilliancy.
He remembers light strokes in a much shorter hair, crooked smiles and a devious light in Icarus’s eyes, a laugh that sounded so much better than his music. There were callused hands on his waist and chipped lips on his and they were the best touches the immortal god had ever felt.
He remembers slender fingers wrapped around feathers and wires and wax, remembers kissing bruised knuckles and making them heal to hear Icarus’s laugh and an accusation of being a show off. Icarus’s hands were callused from inventions, but his cheeks and neck were surprisingly soft. He liked to kiss them, those old days. He liked to kiss every inche of him.
He remember Icarus’s intelligence, how he could put together a bunch of ideas and make them one coesive concept, the way his brain worked miles an hour and how his hands struggled to keep up sometimes. He remembers how little time it took for Icarus to make a plan of escape.
He also remembers his fall.
And that, that is why Apollo doesn’t goes after him. He doesn’t deserve to.
It was differente with Daphne. Yes, he was terrible, but it wasn’t him who turned her into a tree. That was the river god’s fault. Apollo was still the one to blame for his madness and selfish ways, but it wasn’t him who pulled the trigger. It was… not easy, but easier to apologize, to believe that he could talk to her at least for this one thing. She didn’t want to see him after that and Apollo respected that. But at least he got to talk. He got to say that he knew what he did was horrible and that it wasn’t expected forgiveness from her. He doesn’t expect forgiveness from anyone now, not even from anyone.
He feels the sunlight warming his skin and wants it to burn.
“Apollo! Are you okay?”
Apollo sighs before turning around to a familiar vision.
The man in front of him has a frown and worried eyes. Apollo is used to seeing him like this. He smiles when his younger brother impatiently puts his own hair up and walks closer to him.
“Hermes! What are you doing here at this hour?”
“You know damn well I almost live here since you thought it would be funny to live with mortals. What happened? You look a bit pale.”
“I’m perfectly okay.”
“You are not. C'mon, I’ve been knowing you for millennia by now, you can trust you baby brother”, Hermes says. His smile is crooked as if he’s planning how to steal Apollo’s wallet. Happened once.
The older god rolls his eyes. Of course Hermes would only talk about himself as the “baby brother” to get something. He was always the tricky one to deal with, almost as bad to understand as Athena and Hera, even if for different reasons.
“Icarus is alive again”, he says anyway. There’s nothing to hide.
“Oh.”
“He punched me in the face.”
“Oh, shit.”
Apollo laughs. If it was a bit hollow for a laugh, well, what is a laugh for a god? Hermes’s frown only deepened.
“It’s alright. It already healed. And I kinda deserved it, too.”
“But that’s not what’s bothering you, is it?” Hermes tries to guess. He pulls his brother gently to the nearest bench. “You missed him.”
“I have no right to miss him.”
“It would be even worse if you didn’t. That would mean he didn’t matter”, Hermes says, and an amused smile shows in his face when Apollo looks away. “Which certainly wasn’t the case, was it?”
“Shut up, Hermes.”
“Awwww, you missed him… Ouch!”
His skin is hot enough that Hermes is only unharmed because of his godly nature. On another hand, Apollo wouldn’t really let his anger act up so much if he was near a mortal.
(he learned that lesson long ago, thank you very much.)
Hermes rolls his eyes, but he stops touching him. Apollo counts it as a little victory.
“There’s nothing you can do right now. Give him some time. I heard dying is not all that easy, or painless, not that I would know.”
Apollo tries to take deep breaths. He tries to convince himself his brother is only trying to help the best way he can. It’s not easy, knowing damn well most of the times Hermes is only sending a message or playing a trick that their father ordered. Hermes was always the obedient one.
It also doesn’t help that behind his closed eyes there’s golden light that shines bright enough to blind anyone who were not the sun itself. His mind is filled of images of a chariot moving with the heat of a million dying stars, reigns that felt like solid flames, burns in his fingertips that healed faster than they showed up, the smell of ozonium in his nostrils. The familiarity of the situation numbing him to the pain that isn’t really there. The smell of melting wax and burning flesh.
He can’t forget.
It’s kind of ironic, considering…
Apollo wishes the sunlight would burn his skin. He wishes fire would do something more to his godly body than to pleasantly warm it.
“Well, I too wouldn’t know”, Apollo whispers with numb lips.
“C'mon, we’re both gods. Do you know how many tragedies Hera caused? Deaths are unavoidable.”
“That’s such a lazy excuse.”
Hermes arched a brow, surprised.
“What I said is what every god thinks.”
Apollo only smiles and wishes Hermes would stop talking.
“Exactly.”
———————-
That night, tucked into a bed he doesn’t actually should need, Apollo dreams of sunburns he can’t have.
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jflashandclash · 6 years
Text
The Attrition of Peace
Forty-Three: The Pax Brothers
We Crash the Wrong Person’s Vacation
 Note: I do something a little different with the point of view in this chapter. I hope it isn’t too distracting! Let me know if it is!
             In the ensuing chaos—of Alabaster snarling a quick, “Dawn will make your ghosts worthless,”
           And the boar with a bowtie withdrawing a pocketwatch from a pocket that involved cartoon logic to say, “Oh, my good boy, we have plenty of time,”
           And Reyna’s and Melinoe’s troops engaging—Pax frantically searched for his friends who were less trained in the art of not dying during war.[1]
           He didn’t catch sight of Kally or the others as Reyna and Alabaster shoved him and Axel backwards across Camp Half-Blood’s boundary lines. But, he did see another figure.
           Off to the side of the Roman wedge formation and the line of ghosts, there was a girl with a leather jacket, multi-colored hair, and a crowbar and sledge hammer in either hand. Atë didn’t have her usual bounce to her, nor her serial-killer-doll stare. Her shoulders slumped. She looked sad while waving her crowbar at Pax in some form of parting. Either that or a threat. With his family, you could never be sure.
           Despite being out of breath, Pax puffed up his cheeks and popped them. He turned from Atë, the ghost army, and the Roman defenses and ran alongside Axel towards the creepy pit of nothingness and frowny faces that had destroyed half of Hera’s cabin.
           He and Axel donned their helms for ease while running, the Silver Tongued Snake’s head narrowing his peripheral with more darkness. He stayed close to Axel, knowing his brother had better spooky time vision.
           As they stumbled back through what was left of the strawberry fields, towards the central hearth of camp, Pax wondered if this was the best choice. He hadn’t thought the ultimatum would be—A: let Euna vacation in Tartarus or B: abandon his friends to a ghost army and the Roman army, both of which probably wanted to kill them.
           Pax snapped back to the present when Axel hissed, “You didn’t tell me campers were up.”
           Ahead of them, Pax could see one of the many lumps had risen from the ground, hopefully a camper.
           Without breaking stride, Axel sprang over the camper, using the camper’s shoulder for balance. Meanwhile, Pax skid between the campers legs and rolled back into a run. In their split second of passing the camper, Pax recognized the trembling child of Hermes as Chris Rodriguez. And he was pretty sure the Leonis Caput and Silver Tongued Snake had just made Chris pee his PJ pants. Memo to self: mock Chris forever.
           “In the words of Alabaster,” Pax responded as they saw the gaping hole in front of Cabin Two. Several sleepy campers gathered around it, gawking down and saying they needed to find Chiron. “’Jack’s voice wasn’t exactly soothing.’”
           In retrospect, Pax wished he’d have said something cooler when they bolted past the gawking teenagers. Like, “Zeus’s farts smell like Aphrodite’s perfume,” since neither god would know which one he’d insulted, or “Weasels forever!” to commemorate the Triple W team that he, Axel, and Alabaster had left in the Paxmobile.  
           He didn’t have time to add on before Axel stepped into the narrow corridor with Pax following after. With each step down, the walls narrowed. By the time Pax counted step fifteen, he could feel cool stone press against the arms of his weasel sweater. The light from the campfire above them had dwindled to a mocking hint of glow off Axel’s golden helm.
           With that and the dim light of Pax’s celestial bronze daggers, all he could see was the looming Nemean Lion pelt descending ahead and the red plumes of the helm undulating in the tunnel’s slight breeze. Pax remembered stories of the Leonis Caput “stalking the labyrinth,” as the monsters liked to call it—the monsters that placed bets on how Pax’s brother would kill Roman captives.
           After Pax saw Axel win his first coliseum fight to secure their entry into Camp Othrys, Axel forbid Pax from attending the whole “stalking the labyrinth” shindig. Something about how Pax wasn’t old enough to watch R rated films? Pax had never thought about it much, since it was prime prank time, but now, he wondered if this was how the Roman victims saw his brother.
           The updraft blasted Pax’s face with the smell of… seawater? Why seawater? It would be awesome if Euna took a detour to some beachfront real-estate, but that didn’t seem to fit the whole bent on godly destruction thing.
           Axel stopped moving.
           Pax could taste salt when he swallowed. He got the uncomfortable urge to scramble back up the stairs, until the plumes on the Leonis Caput helm faded into the darkness.
           “I can’t see where we’re going,” Axel said. Pax could hear his brother puff his cheeks.
           Pax swallowed again, trying to rid himself of the ocean taste. Something felt wrong about the smell of openness in this black confinement. “Aren’t you supposed to have like, bat sense or whatever?” he squeaked.
           “I’m not sure this is part of the labyrinth,” Axel said, “If it is, either something is blocking my view, or it hasn’t linked fully into the network yet. I’m not sure how this works if Jack bent the labyrinth to his will. The labyrinth is a living thing. It doesn’t like to be controlled.”
           Axel’s voice trembled and Pax slowly put the pieces together. Cages. Confinement. Control. Santiago.
           Pax wanted to tease Axel for getting claustrophobic, but that would be like punching a honey badger in the nose: both upsetting because honey badgers are cute and because they are incredibly dangerous.
           “There’s a door here,” Axel finally said, “Be on your guard.”
           “Oh, I wanted to relax with Reese’s Sticks and Kool-Aid the whole trip to Tartarus,” Pax whispered.
           The door didn’t open the way he was expecting. Instead of hearing the click of a knob or the ominous swing of a dungeon gate like Pax had heard in video games, the barrier gave way noiselessly.
           The brightness blinded the Pax brothers when they stepped out of the darkness. Instead of some dank cavern, they exited into overcast sunlight. The brothers paused to allow their eyes to adjust to the brilliance, their bodies to the warm breeze, and their noses to the intensity of salt and smoke.
           When they’d adjusted, neither moved. Both were too stunned.
           They were on a huge ship.
           A grey ocean bled into a colorless sky every direction they looked. Parts of the deck were smoldering, the smoke curling to disappear into the bleached landscape. Various charred boards looked like they were patched together with broken dreams and wishful thinking.  
           There was a hollow carnival atmosphere to the ship, like an abandoned theme park. A pool was in the center, filled with crystal clear water and formerly white patio chairs with blue towels scattered around. A bar extended from the deck into the pool for easy access.
           Before the Pax brothers recognized any of the people drearily shambling past the broken spots in the floor, they saw the posters on the bar shack’s outer wall: one was for an Orpheus Metal concert. The depiction of Jack’s maniac grin above his emaciated body felt uncomfortable. Axel and Pax looked so much younger with their drums and guitar. That was back when Axel had long hair in a ponytail and Pax had pink highlights.[2]
           A few feet away, another poster depicted Percy Jackson with a drawn on mustache. Several knives and tail spikes protruded the wall, illustrating someone’s target practice.
           Axel didn’t need to see the mast’s statue of a princess in chains to state, “This is the Princess Andromeda cruise ship.”
           They both puffed up their cheeks and popped them.
           Axel and Pax removed their helmets and attached them to their belts so it was easier to look around.
           Pax felt himself tremble. He glanced at the door they’d come through, only to find a Johnny Rocket’s entrance. The circular window in the center of the door showed the remains of a food fight in the restaurant. But there were no grinning Camp Othrys members. Just a few people scrubbing the floor with their heads down. Something about them looked familiar.
           “But… but why is it here? And… and how? Did the whole ship decide to take a joy ride out of Tartarus? Are we in Tartarus already?” Pax whispered.
           Axel shook his head. He clenched his jaw, trying to pretend the sight of their dilapidated ship didn’t bother him. “What did Jack say when he sang?”
           “What? The song about geography?”
           “No,” Axel shook his head, “It’s about being there for a lover and conquering geography to get to them, right?”
           “I don’t listen to old people music and I was a little preoccupied with the earth splitting to listen to lyrics. But, if it was something about that, then why are we on a ship looking for Jack’s lov—”
           Then Pax saw her.
           He felt like he’d eaten a full backpack’s supply of walnuts. The world tunneled until everything was fuzzy but her black, jagged hair and her mutilated, scarred face. Pax didn’t know he’d stopped breathing until he gasped out, “Flynn.”
           She was mopping the deck, staring at the boards with that icy, absent glare she often got when Jack wasn’t around. Like when he’d last seen her at the Massacre of Mount Othrys, her legs and lower waist looked crippled and crushed from where Jason Grace had blasted a pillar onto her and Krios, and from when Pax couldn’t protect her like he’d promised Jack he would.
           The random shades doing chores on the boat weren’t strangers. They were their friends that died during the war.
           Pax could feel his cold sweat when Flynn looked up at the sound of her name. Her eyes softened for an indiscernible moment, then they narrowed. Get the fuck out of here, she mouthed.
           Yep. That was Flynn.
           But Pax couldn’t move. He felt too nauseous. He wanted to curl up and sob on Axel’s arm, but he also wanted to never touch another human again.
           Axel would have normally noticed his brother’s increase into hyperventilation, but movement from one of the only non-ghosts aboard distracted him.
           A beautiful woman stretched out on one of the white beach chairs. There was another non-ghost beside her, lounging on a chair facing away from them. All Axel could see was the man’s muddy sandals.
           She folded up her tanning reflector, set it on the stool beside her, picked up a bottle of suntan lotion and a fruity drink, and stood.
           For an instant, Axel thought it was Reyna. The woman’s hair billowed in loose, black waves down her back. A complicated, revealing purple swimsuit clung tightly to her caramel skin, one with way too many unnecessary straps. Something Reyna would never wear.
           “Fei Lin, my wonderful daughter, you missed a few spots on the deck. And you forgot it’s rude not to properly welcome guests,” the woman said with a warmth of a pillow used to smoother puppies.
           She’d walked up to Axel before he smelled the aroma of roses intermixed with the smoke and seawater.
           Faster than he could block, Aphrodite slapped him across the face with the bottle of suntan lotion. “You,” she said with the same tight sweetness, “scorned me for a demigod. And not just any demigod, one that gets all sweaty and gross from fighting too much, and reads really boring books!”
           Axel thought about breaking Aphrodite’s neck. The more childish side of him wanted to uncork that suntan lotion bottle and pour it on her hair, since he knew it would make her squeal and amuse Pax.
           But Pax was trembling so violently, Axel feared the shakes might dislodge a floorboard and drop them into the mess hall. Pax probably wouldn’t notice Aphrodite’s cringe.
           They didn’t have time for the Goddess of Love. He hadn’t registered that she’d stopped her night visits when they got to New Rome. Too much had happened.
           And this wasn’t the place for a confrontation. He needed to get Pax away fast.
           Axel focused on Aphrodite’s ear, to prevent himself from identifying any of the ghosts around them, and to decrease the effectiveness of her love magic. Despite his attempts, he was furious to find himself thinking about nipping her lobe.
           “Why did you bring us here?” he demanded, trying to find something wrong on Aphrodite to ward off any attraction.
           “Eris brat, take this,” Aphrodite instructed, handing the bottle to his little brother.
           Pax squeaked as the charmspeak took over. He reflexively extended a trembling, sweaty hand. Tears streaked down his cheeks when he glanced from the goddess to Flynn, who had gone back to swabbing the deck.
           Aphrodite began to rub herself down with the lotion, moving her straps in a way that made Axel avert his gaze. Each motion was so deliberate and tender. He tried to picture Reyna’s face when they were cleaning up the war tent, the way her cloak had loosened on one side to look goofy and lopsided, the strands that had come out of her braid—
           “Stop that,” Aphrodite snarled, the sweetness temporarily dissipating. When Axel glanced back at her, she went back to smiling and applying lotion.
           “I didn’t bring you here. I was just having a pleasant, quiet vacation with one of my lovers and your friends interrupted it. The Plague Bringer and the clueless daughter of Demeter, right?” She sighed and went to flip her hair, though the locks had shortened to a dark, pixie cut and her eyes shifted from dark to brilliant blue. “It seems like Jack was looking for his love as a way to lead him and his friend to Tartarus. Oh, Jack and Flynn’s love story!” She grabbed the suntan lotion from a flinching Pax and hugged the bottle to her chest. “Such a delightfully tragic one. Just a pity the heroine forsook her beauty and cut up her face.”
           Flynn had stopped mopping. She glared at her mother in a way that told Axel—if Flynn’s charmspeak worked on Aphrodite, Flynn would force her mother do worse than cut up her face.
           “Flynn’s still beautiful,” Pax whispered.
           Aphrodite dabbed the lotion along the ridge of her brow and gave the bottle back to Pax. He jumped. “That’s cute and sweet of you to say that, Ajax. Peitho[3] and I were wondering if saying that makes you feel better about what happened.”
           “Which way did they go?” Axel interrupted. Out of all their fallen comrades, Pax had the hardest time with Flynn. Pax could make jokes about everyone else, and reminisce on stories, or cry about how much he missed Alabaster, but never anything about Flynn. Axel didn’t need Aphrodite teasing his little brother when the dead girl was in front of them.
           A glance down at Pax confirmed Axel’s suspicion. Pax was biting his lip to keep himself as together as the softhearted kid could.      
           “Hm?” Aphrodite asked, “Did you say you wanted my help?” In a gesture that looked absentminded, she took the suntan lotion from Pax and motioned it towards Axel. Meanwhile, she licked the rim of her fruity drink.
           Axel had nothing to bargain. He could try to kill her again, but that had left him on his knees, pining over her for weeks. He knew what she wanted, but he could never humiliate himself like that. As much as the smell of her perfume made him want to droop his eyes, they were surrounded by the destruction caused by negligent, vengeful, and sadistic parenting by her and gods like her.
           A thunk came from the chairs by the pool. Aphrodite’s boyfriend stood up, stretched, and slung an AK-47 across his back. He wasn’t wearing a shirt over his muscles, but did have a scarf tied around his head to hide his face, like a Somalian pirate. His sunglasses blazed with a backlit fire. Just the sight of him made Axel furious.
           Aphrodite sighed and tossed her suntan lotion onto the ground.
           “Oh, you’re not going to be able to follow your friends off this ship. If you want to tail them, you’ll have to go a different route, assuming I let you,” Ares said, smirking.
           Axel scowled. Any worry he had about Aphrodite’s wiles evaporated in the presence of the war god. He reflexively went to grab his sword hilt, only to remember that all his weapons other than his obsidian blades were in pieces in the Paxmobile. He didn’t even have his frying pan.
           “What in Xibalba are you doing in Tartarus?” Axel snarled.
           “What in Tartarus are you doing in Tartarus,” Pax corrected quietly.
           The war god gave a billowing laugh. “We’re not in Tartarus! What? Did you forget I control the souls and vessels of all the fallen losers in battle? Hades and I had a field day—”
           “—Fields of punishment day—” Pax said.
           “—drawing lots on who got your crew.” Ares reached over and ruffled Flynn’s hair. Axel could feel her hatred. He remembered how she’d publically humiliate people if they dared to initiate contact with her at Camp Othrys. Well, everyone other than Jack or Pax.
           Although Axel hadn’t always agreed with Flynn’s brutal methods, he found himself wondering how he could free her and the rest of his crew from servitude to this godly child. But where else would their souls go? Could they have a worse fate?
           Ares released Flynn. He cracked his neck. “I couldn’t justify getting Jack though. He had to get his own specialized eternal torment. Though, it looks like he’s got the Orpheus curse now.”    
           As much as Axel wanted to obliterate his least favorite couple off this ship, Euna and Jack were getting further away every second, and Pax looked closer and closer to a mental breakdown.
           Axel set a hand on his brother’s arm.
           Pax flinched.
           Axel withdrew and frowned. “Ajax, let’s get out of here. I’m sure we can find another labyrinth entrance somewhere on the ship. I think we had one in the boiler room.”
           If there was one thing Axel knew gods hated, it was being ignored. He went to gently corral Pax towards the Johnny Rocket’s entrance.
           “Oh, you think I’m going to let you go after you helped Hephaestus gather the parts for his giant rat trap?” Ares asked.
           Rat trap? Axel paused. He remembered Hephaestus hiring him for a retrieval quest in exchange for the location of Leo Valdez.
           “Ugh, Stygian ice is SO bad for your skin!” Aphrodite complained. When Axel glanced back, he could see both she and Ares rub their arms at the distasteful memory.
           Despite everything, Axel crackled a smile. He hoped Hephaestus enjoyed hatching whatever trap he’d concocted.
           Pax released a nervous laugh. Since Axel had directed him away from Flynn, color started to return to his face.
           Ares seemed too relaxed with their reactions. The war god lowered his hands, resting one on the pistol grip of his rifle. “I gotta hand it to you, kid. Normally, I like punks like you with all of your spirit and anger—”
           “—oh, it’s monologuing time—” Pax said.
           “—but, at least pricks like Percy are useful. You… I haven’t hated anyone as much as you since Ghandi.”
           “Give me a medal of honor,” Axel grunted.
           “After upsetting this fine lady—” Ares gestured beside him to where Aphrodite was examining her perfect nails like she wasn’t part of the conversation. “—I’ve been thinking a lot—”
           “That must have been very difficult for you,” Pax said sympathetically. Axel probably should have stopped Pax’s side commentary, but he was a bit too proud of his little brother to do so.
           The war god seemed unfazed as he finished, “—thinking about what to do with you.”
           “I’ve beaten you before, Ares,” Axel reminded him, struggling to ward off a smirk.
           Though… Axel wasn’t sure he could defeat Ares now. He had no weapons but his claws and teeth. He was exhausted from fighting Percy and Reyna. And he needed to keep Pax safe and hunt down Euna and Jack. Plus, there was the ghost army at Camp Half-Blood with Reyna…
           Axel thought about continuing to ignore Ares to find the closest labyrinth entrance. Then every ghost on this ship—all their dead friends—would be sent after him and Pax to drag them back to the deck.
           He was not in the strategic position to smirk. Axel sighed.
           “No… no…” Ares chuckled and unslung his rifle. As though to emphasis how unnecessary the weapon would be, he leaned it against the closest patio chair. “You’re not going to fight me. See, I’ve been Googling the best godly punishments. Normally, I just kill people.” Ares shrugged. “But I found out Hera had a way more brutal suggestion.”
           Axel wanted to make some snarky comment about a 4,000 year old man going to his mother for advice, but the words died on his lips.
           “Some little myth about a guy named Hercules? Something about his first family…?” Ares said.
           Aphrodite giggled.
           Axel couldn’t puff up his cheeks and pop them. His insides felt frozen.
           Ares couldn’t do that, could he? That wasn’t normally in Hera’s department of power either but, she was the queen of the gods—
           But Axel could already feel his claws lengthening without his consent.
           From the energized grin on Ares’ face, the god knew what Axel was thinking. He slung an arm over Aphrodite’s shoulder and pulled her close as they watched Axel struggle with himself. “I know you love to hunt and battle, kid. Now you’ll hunt and battle the things that you love. I think that’s well within Aphrodite’s and my domain.”
           Throughout their trip down Jack’s corridor and onto the ghost ship, and—really—throughout most of his interactions with the Greek gods, Axel hadn’t been scared. Annoyed and enraged? Definitely. Now, for what Axel thought was the first time ever, he found himself trembling in fear before a god.
           When Pax saw Axel’s shaking hands reach up and clutch his head, Pax asked, “Um, Lord of Primordial Awesome?”
           “Ajax…” Axel whispered, “Run.”
 We’re almost at the end! Only one chapter and an epilogue to go!!!! :D Thanks for reading! *ehem* please don’t kill the author.... >>’‘
Footnote:
[1] As Mel pointed out: books Pax should write.
[2] This is actually a continuity error from Ch 21, Blood of a Mayan. Making a note here for me to fix it (since I care deeply about my character’s hair… apparently?) XD
[3] Goddess/personified spirit of persuasion, seduction, and charming speech.
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stacylaughs · 5 years
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April 25 - May 3, 2019
I had some misconceptions of the City of Light before I arrived, but honestly, I love it now. Paris is so beautiful I feel like I’m in a Disney movie when I’m there. 
The Eurotunnel connects the UK with the rest of the continent, so it’s recommended to take the Eurostar from London St Pancras International Station to Paris Gare du Nord, but that was more expensive than easyJet (£85.38 + £16.49 for hold luggage aka a checked bag). If you’re after a cheaper way to reach Paris, budget coaches make the 10-hour journey daily.
It seems like everyone speaks perfect English but they don’t want to, which is fair, as it’s their country I’m visiting. The worst part of Paris is the ongoing cloud of cigarette smoke everywhere, and partially because of this, I smelled some of the worst body odor on others, but also some people had the best perfume I’ve ever smelled before. So, hmm.
I flew into Paris Charles de Gaulle (CDG), and it was super easy to take RER and the Paris Métro into the city. The RER has its own separate charge, but I bought ten tickets for the Métro to get one free ticket. Then, using Google, it was very easy to map out directions for the rest of my trip.
The first night I stayed at St Christopher's Inn Canal for €26.90. I enjoyed the location, right by Canal St Martin, where it was easy to grab a drink or bite to eat, sit by the canal and enjoy Paris the local way. 
While there, I also enjoyed:
Parc des Buttes - A beautiful park that offers some of the best panoramic views over Paris. And it has a waterfall!
Parc de la Villette - This massive park houses museums, concert halls and theaters. Going down the SLIDE, and, then, seeing la geode was a highlight of my trip.
Pere Lachaise Cemetery - Spend an hour exploring one of the most prestigious and popular cemeteries in the world. Come pay your respects to Jim Morrison or Oscar Wilde.
Le Cent Quatre - An artist space hosting performances and events from all corners of the globe. Sit there and watch some local dance crews rehearse.
My favorite to place to stay was MIJE Fourcy Fauconnier Maubuisson for €28.37 a night, because of the location, within walking distance of L'As du Fallafel (the best!), Notre Dame Cathedral (can you believe the fire happened days before I arrived?!), and Saint Chapelle (simply gorgeous). I also stayed at Aloha Eiffel Tower for €27 a night, but did not like the location (more residential and so far south) or accommodation.
Just a few notes:
I was there for the riots they expected on May Day - the French being French, I suppose. Métro was not running and I wasn’t sure what would be open, so I saw Avengers: Endgame, which was a great three hours!
I ate croissants for every breakfast, baguettes with fresh cheese and cured meats for lunch, and casseroles and steak frittes for dinner. I made sure to have eclairs and meringue, but regret not having macarons or a crêpe smothered in Nutella chocolate spread from vendors on the street. 
If you scheduled your days right, you could get a museum pass to save money, but I couldn’t be bothered to see so many things in a short period. A lot of Paris museums are free the first Sunday of the month, which would be great if you’re around, but I’m sure they’re very busy.
The Musée d’Orsay was disorganized in layout, in my opinion, but I thoroughly enjoyed the entire top floor. I purchased the joint ticket (€21) which included the Rodin Museum, which was just alright. Had to see The Thinker, I guess.
If you spent 60 seconds looking at each of the objects at the Louvre (€17), going steadily for eight hours a day, it would take you 75 days to see them all. It is simply enormous. I chose to book a 2-hour tour on Airbnb with Hugo ($43.61), which was well-worth it.
I personally enjoyed the bookstore, Shakespeare & Company, because I found a quiet corner to read a book for an hour -- but I understand most people find it chaotic. 
I loved walking around the Montmartre district and up to Basilica of the Sacré Coeur, but didn’t make it to Moulin Rouge (nearby). 
Visit the Champ de Mars and then walk around the iconic Eiffel Tower or pay to take the stairs up for views over the city (because the elevator takes too long).
Spend a day at the Palace of Versailles (€27)! Check out Kaitlyn’s guide to Versailles here. I’ll never forget the swans swimming in the grand canal at sunset.
I enjoyed drinking Angelina’s hot chocolate while walking through Tuileries Garden and then along the Seine River.
I liked viewing the ceiling of Galeries Lafayette Haussmann and jumping on the suspended trampoline. 
I flew out of Paris Orly Airport (ORY) because it was closer, and a convenient €19 Uber ride. I did have to search my flight number on Google to figure out my terminal, because it was nowhere on my ticket or invoice.
I’d really love to return to Paris and visit these spots (in no particular order): Moulin rouge, Opera garnier, Refuge des fondus, Phonomuseum, the catacombs, Luxembourg Gardens, Grand Palais, Musée national des arts asiatiques, Pompidou centre (national museum of modern art), Église Saint-Eustache, Bistro Paul Bert, Merci department store, La Gaite Lyrique, Anticafe work spaces, Harry NY bar (where Bloody Marys were invented), Arc de Triomphe, Pierre Herme pastry, Popelini cupcake, and Centre Pompidou.
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lesbianrewrites · 7 years
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Blood of Olympus - Chapter 45
*disclaimer* This is a project done for fun, and none of these characters/works belong to me. I do not claim to own any of the material on this page. This is a Lesbian edit of The Blood of Olympus by Rick Riordan. Chapters will be posted every day at 10am EST. Google doc version can be found here. The chapter can also be found under the cut. Enjoy!
ABOUT FIVE MILES EAST OF CAMP, a black SUV was parked on the beach.
They tied up the boat at a private dock. Nicola helped Dakota and Leila haul Michael Kahale ashore. The big guy was still only half-conscious, mumbling what Nicola assumed were football calls: ‘Red twelve. Right thirty-one. Hike.’ Then he giggled uncontrollably.
‘We’ll leave him here,’ Leila said. ‘Just don’t bind him. Poor guy …’
‘What about the car?’ Dakota asked. ‘The keys are in the glove compartment, but, uh, can you drive?’
Leila frowned. ‘I thought you could drive. Aren’t you seventeen?’
‘I never learned!’ Dakota said. ‘I was busy.’
‘I’ve got it covered,’ Nicola promised.
They both looked at her.
‘You’re, like, fourteen,’ Leila said.
Nicola enjoyed how nervous the Romans acted around her, even though they were older and bigger and more experienced fighters. ‘I didn’t say I would be behind the wheel.’
She knelt and placed her hand on the ground. She felt the nearest graves, the bones of forgotten humans buried and scattered. She searched deeper, extending her senses into the Underworld. ‘Jules-Albert. Let’s go.’
The ground split. A zombie in a ragged nineteenth-century motoring outfit clawed his way to the surface. Leila stepped back. Dakota screamed like a kindergartner.
��What the hell is that?’ Dakota protested.
‘This is my driver,’ Nicola said. ‘Jules-Albert finished first in the Paris–Rouen motorcar race back in 1895, but he wasn’t awarded the prize because his steam car used a stoker.’
Leila stared at him. ‘What are you even talking about?’
‘He’s a restless soul, always looking for another chance to drive,’ Nicola said. ‘The last few years, he’s been my driver whenever I need one.’
‘You have a zombie chauffeur,’ Leila said.
‘I call shotgun.’ Nicola got in on the passenger’s side. Reluctantly, the Romans climbed in the back.
One thing about Jules-Albert: he never got emotional. He could sit in crosstown traffic all day without losing his patience. He was immune to road rage. He could even drive straight up to an encampment of wild centaurs and navigate through them without getting nervous.
The centaurs were like nothing Nicola had ever seen. They had back ends like palominos, tattoos all over their hairy arms and chests, and bullish horns protruding from their foreheads. Nicola doubted they could blend in with humans as easily as Chiron did.
At least two hundred were sparring restlessly with swords and spears, or roasting animal carcasses over open fires (carnivorous centaurs … the idea made Nicola shudder). Their camp spilled across the farm road that meandered around Camp Half-Blood’s southeast perimeter.
The SUV nudged its way through, honking when necessary. Occasionally a centaur glared through the driver’s side window, saw the zombie driver and backed away in shock.
‘Pluto’s pauldrons,’ Dakota muttered. ‘Even more centaurs arrived overnight.’
‘Don’t make eye contact,’ Leila warned. ‘They take that as a challenge for a duel to the death.’
Nicola stared straight ahead as the SUV pushed through. Her heart was pounding, but she wasn’t scared. She was angry. Octavian had surrounded Camp Half-Blood with monsters.
Sure, Nicola had mixed emotions about the camp. She’d felt rejected there, out of place, unwanted and unloved … but now that it was on the verge of destruction, she realized how much it meant to her. This was the last place Bianca and she had shared as a home – the only place they’d ever felt safe, even if only temporarily.
They rounded a bend in the road and Nicola’s fists clenched. More monsters … hundreds more. Dog-headed men prowled in packs, their poleaxes gleaming in the light of campfires. Beyond that milled a tribe of two-headed men dressed in rags and blankets like homeless guys, armed with a haphazard collection of slings, clubs and metal pipes.
‘Octavian is an idiot,’ Nicola hissed. ‘He thinks he can control these creatures?’
‘They just kept showing up,’ Leila said. ‘Before we knew it … well, look.’
The legion was arrayed at the base of Half-Blood Hill, its five cohorts in perfect order, its standards bright and proud. Giant eagles circled overhead. The siege weapons – six golden onagers the size of houses – were arrayed behind in a loose semicircle, three on each flank. But, for all its impressive discipline, the Twelfth Legion looked pitifully small, a splotch of demigod valour in a sea of ravenous monsters.
Nicola wished she still had the sceptre of Diocletian, but she doubted a legion of dead warriors would make a dent in this army. Even the Argo II couldn’t do much against this kind of strength.
‘I have to disable the onagers,’ Nicola said. ‘We don’t have much time.’
‘You’ll never get close to them,’ Leila warned. ‘Even if we get the entire Fourth and Fifth Cohorts to follow us, the other cohorts will try to stop us. And those siege weapons are manned by Octavian’s most loyal followers.’
‘We won’t get close by force,’ Nicola agreed. ‘But alone I can do it. Dakota, Leila – Jules-Albert will drive you to the legion lines. Get out, talk to your troops, convince them to follow your lead. I’ll need a distraction.’
Dakota frowned. ‘All right, but I’m not hurting any of my fellow legionnaires.’
‘No one’s asking you to,’ Nicola growled. ‘But if we don’t stop this war the entire legion will be wiped out. You said the monster tribes take insult easily?’
‘Yes,’ Dakota said. ‘I mean, for instance, you make any comment to those two-headed guys about the way they smell and … oh.’ He grinned. ‘If we started a brawl, by accident of course …’
‘I’ll be counting on you,’ Nicola said.
Leila frowned. ‘But how will you –’
‘I’m going dark,’ Nicola said. And she faded into the shadows.
She thought she was prepared.
She wasn’t.
Even after three days of rest and the wondrous healing properties of Coach Hedge’s gooey brown gunk, Nicola started to dissolve the moment she shadow-jumped.
Her limbs turned to vapour. Cold seeped into her chest. Voices of spirits whispered in her ears: Help us. Remember us. Join us.
She hadn’t realized how much she had relied on Reyna. Without her strength, she felt as weak as a newborn colt, wobbling dangerously, ready to fall at every step.
No, she told herself. I am Nicola di Angelo, daughter of Hades. I control the shadows. They do not control me.
She stumbled back into the mortal world at the crest of Half-Blood Hill.
She fell to her knees, hugging Thalia’s pine tree for support. The Golden Fleece was no longer in its branches. The guardian dragon was gone. Perhaps they’d been moved to a safer spot with the battle so close. Nicola wasn’t sure. But, looking down at the Roman forces arrayed outside the valley, her spirits wavered.
The nearest onager was a hundred yards downhill, encircled in spiked trenches and guarded by a dozen demigods. The machine was primed, ready to fire. Its huge sling cupped a projectile the size of a Honda Civic, glowing with flecks of gold.
With icy certainty, Nicola realized what Octavian was up to. The projectile was a mixture of incendiaries and Imperial gold. Even a small amount of Imperial gold could be incredibly volatile. Exposed to too much heat or pressure, the stuff would explode with devastating impact, and of course it was deadly to demigods as well as monsters. If that onager scored a hit on Camp Half-Blood, anything in the blast zone would be annihilated – vaporized by the heat, or disintegrated by the shrapnel. And the Romans had six onagers, all stocked with piles of ammunition.
‘Evil,’ Nicola said. ‘This is evil.’
She tried to think. Dawn was breaking. She couldn’t possibly take down all six weapons before the attack began, even if she found the strength to shadow-travel that many times. If she managed it once more, it would be a miracle.
She spotted the Roman command tent – behind and to the left of the legion. Octavian would probably be there, enjoying breakfast at a safe distance from the fighting. He wouldn’t lead his troops into battle. The little scumbag would hope to destroy the Greek camp from a distance, wait for the flames to die down, then march in unopposed.
Nicola’s throat constricted with hate. She concentrated on that tent, envisioning her next jump. If she could assassinate Octavian, that might solve the problem. The order to attack might never be given. Nicola was about to attempt it when a voice behind her said, ‘Nicola?’
She spun, her sword instantly in her hand, and almost decapitated Jill Solace.
‘Put that down!’ Jill hissed. ‘What are you doing here?’
Nicola was dumbstruck. Jill and two other campers were crouched in the grass, binoculars around their necks and daggers at their side. They wore black jeans and T-shirts, with black grease paint on their faces like commandos.
‘Me?’ Nicola asked. ‘What are you doing? Getting yourselves killed?’
Jill scowled. ‘Hey, we’re scouting the enemy. We took precautions.’
‘You dressed in black,’ Nicola noted, ‘with the sun coming up. You painted your face but didn’t cover that mop of blond hair. You might as well be waving a yellow flag.’
Jill’s ears reddened. ‘Lou Ellen wrapped some Mist around us, too.’
‘Hi.’ The girl next to her wriggled her fingers. She looked a little flustered. ‘You’re Nicola, right? I’ve heard a lot about you. And this is Cecil from Hermes cabin.’
Nicola knelt next to them. ‘Did Coach Hedge make it to camp?’
Lou Ellen giggled nervously. ‘Did he ever.’
Jill elbowed her. ‘Yeah. Hedge is fine. He made it just in time for the baby’s birth.’
‘The baby!’ Nicola grinned, which hurt her face muscles. She wasn’t used to making that expression. ‘Mellie and the kid are all right?’
‘Fine. A very cute little satyr boy.’ Jill shuddered. ‘But I delivered it. Have you ever delivered a baby?’
‘Um, no.’
‘I had to get some fresh air. That’s why I volunteered for this mission. Gods of Olympus, my hands are still shaking. See?’
She took Nicola’s hand, which sent an electric current down Nicola’s spine. She quickly withdrew. ‘Whatever,’ she snapped. ‘We don’t have time for chitchat. The Romans are attacking at dawn and I’ve got to –’
‘We know,’ Jill said. ‘But, if you’re planning to shadow-travel to that command tent, forget it.’
Nicola glared at her. ‘Excuse me?’
She expected Jill to flinch or look away. Most people did. But Jill’s blue eyes stayed fixed on hers – annoyingly determined. ‘Coach Hedge told me all about your shadow-travel. You can’t try that again.’
‘I just did try it again, Solace. I’m fine.’
‘No, you’re not. I’m a healer. I could feel the darkness in your hand as soon as I touched it. Even if you made it to that tent, you’d be in no shape to fight. But you wouldn’t make it. One more slip, and you won’t come back. You are not shadow-travelling. Doctor’s orders.’
‘The camp is about to be destroyed –’
‘And we’ll stop the Romans,’ Jill said. ‘But we’ll do it our way. Lou Ellen will control the Mist. We’ll sneak around, do as much damage as we can to those onagers. But no shadow-travel.’
‘But –’
‘No.’
Lou Ellen’s and Cecil’s heads swivelled back and forth like they were watching a really intense tennis match.
Nicola sighed in exasperation. She hated working with other people. They were always cramping her style, making her uncomfortable. And Jill Solace … Nicola revised her impression of the daughter of Apollo. She’d always thought of Jill as easygoing and laid back. Apparently she could also be stubborn and aggravating.
Nicola gazed down at Camp Half-Blood, where the rest of the Greeks were preparing for war. Past the troops and ballistae, the canoe lake glittered pink in the first light of dawn. Nicola remembered the first time she’d arrived at Camp Half-Blood, crash-landing in Apollo’s sun car, which had been converted into a fiery school bus.
She remembered Apollo, smiling and tanned and completely cool in his shades.
Thalia had said, He’s hot.
He’s the sun god, Penny replied.
That’s not what I meant.
Why was Nicola thinking about that now? The random memory irritated her, made her feel jittery.
She had arrived at Camp Half-Blood thanks to Apollo. Now, on what would likely be her last day at camp, she was stuck with a daughter of Apollo.
‘Whatever,’ Nicola said. ‘But we have to hurry. And you’ll follow my lead.’
‘Fine,’ Jill said. ‘Just don’t ask me to deliver any more satyr babies and we’ll get along great.’
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jack87354 · 4 years
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Syndrome Chapter 7
Log entry 7 Agent: UNKNOWN Western Market district, Halcyon city Time: 0113 hours, Date: 20/04/2144 Status: Standby
Even without his power over time, the very seconds seemed to slow on their own and suddenly stop as Jason stared at the woman standing out in the open, completely in the buff. Sure it might not have been the best thing to do (and in all honesty if anyone else was around, they would've probably called the cops on him ), but his mind could only stare back in complete confusion as to what this woman was doing here, or what could of possibly lead her to up to here "She might be a tad too old for you, you know," Cyclop's sarcastic remark reminding him that he was there "Not the time to be snarky, Cyclops" Jason shot back, as he slowly walked over to the woman. She was beautiful, to say the least. Creamy toned skin, soft, snow-white hair, incredibly endowed in both the chest and rump, plus a jaw-dropping hourglass figure. She was flawless, like one of those dolls that those sick, perverted Elysium scumbags paid thousands to build. Piece of him was tempted to poke her to find out. "So how long are you going to stand there gawking at her?" Cyclops chimed in Jason rolled his eyes and ignored him. "Excuse me, miss. Are you okay?" If somehow you couldn't see her body, then her face alone would cause even the most arrogant of men to stutter when speaking to her. High cheekbones, a perfect nose line, and plump lips, but her grey eyes, round and piercing somehow looked dull and distant, as if she wasn't even there. Jason raised an eyebrow, "Miss? Miss, I asked if you were alright?" Suddenly, without any sort of warning, Jason found himself holding up a heavyweight as her body pressed onto his." What the devil?" Jason said as he fought a losing battle to keep his balance and the woman from falling to the ground. They fell into a heap, with his skull cushioning the impact of her fall. He clutched the back of his head in pain. After a few moments of trying to ease the throbbing, he looked up to see Cyclops standing over him with his arms folded "You seem to be enjoying yourself," He said, offering him a hand "Seriously, not in the mood right now, Cyclops," Jason replied, getting up from under the woman. She lay on the ground with her eyes closed and her arms wrapped around her knees folded into her chest. She looked peaceful, like a baby in the womb, but they couldn't just leave her here. "Come on," Jason said kneeling down to get a better grip on her, "We gotta help her." Cyclops tossed him a glance, "Right, now if every homeless woman was as well endowed as she was, you'd practically be a saint" He looked back at him, "Hey, just because I'm trying to be a decent human being, doesn't mean I'm trying to get lucky." "Right, you're all about making opportunities and exploiting them." Cyclops continued, "You're all about making your own luck." "Okay, you're being a little hurtful now" "Alright, fine" Cyclops finally surrendered, "But how do we know that someone isn't out looking for her right now?" "Given the circumstances, I don't think we should give her up if anyone comes to look for her," Jason said as he gripped her forearm. It was warm and soft, at least confirming that she wasn't some high-class pleasure android "I mean, I can only see a few situations that would land someone in this position. And none of them really involve a loving family looking for a wandering, naked relative" "Fair enough," said Cyclops. Suddenly from a little ways off came a crash followed by what could only be described by some sort of feral screech. Jason and Cyclops remained still for a few moments, an unnerving silence settling over the area. Cyclops started off in the direction of the ruckus. "I'll investigate." He said, walking away, "Stay here" Jason nodded and stood up, the woman slouched over his shoulder. He watched the robot go and eventually disappeared around a corner into the neon-lit street, but as the seconds ticked by, Jason felt an icy dread creep up from his stomach. 'PFFT!' a sound from the rooftop above "Oh to hell with this," Jason panicked, as he threw open the lid of a nearby trash can. Lucky for him, it was empty, but at the same time, he didn't think that a trash can would be the most hygienic of places to hide someone naked. There was no time as a strange, menacing hiss pierced through the air. Without a second thought, he jumped in with the woman in tow and pulled the lid closed as quietly as possible just as the sound of a body dropping into the alley echoed from outside his hiding spot. There was another menacing hiss and Jason found himself holding his own mouth closed as not to utter a sound, but after a few moments of dreadful silence came a frustrated snarl. "Where could she be?" The voice, cold and threatening. The sound of footsteps resonated through the alley but eventually grew closer until Jason could swear they were right outside the trash can "Have you located Subject Four yet?" A new voice, deep and professional "Does it look like I have?" The first voice spat back, "Have any of the other teams reported back anything?" "I wouldn't be here if they had, Sikmon," Replied the second voice, "This is bad. If we manage to lose one of The Pandora's top generals-" "Don't say it like this is our fault," Sikmon corrected, "The boss will understand what happened, but he'll be furious that the hacker managed to break through our firewalls. And even more furious when he learns that they managed to get there hands on the prototype Hermes suit" "Speaking of which, Apollo team reported in that they have narrowed the hackers' location down to a L.A.S complex to the east end of this district. They seem to be a five-man cell from " "An assault team on standby?" "Three. I counted thirty-five men. The thing is that Apollo team could only confirm that the prototype was in their possession. There's still no word on if Subject Four is with them or not" Sikmon grunted in disproval, "I don't like it, but it's best we work with what we have." He said, "I'm leading the assault. Those hackers are going to pay for messing up my date night. And as for Subject Four, well, she couldn't have gotten far on her own, but have a skeleton crew keep up the search." "I'll have the boss informed." The second voice said, as his footsteps began to grow distant "Happy hunting" Sikmon scoffed as his own footsteps began to also become very distant until finally, they were completely out of earshot. Still, Jason waited a few moments before finally reopening the bin's cover and climbing out, taking in a large breath of semi-clean air. "Ah man, it smelled like rotten eggs and diapers" He coughed, trying not to throw up. After a few seconds of dry heaving, he calmed himself and pulled his unconscious guest from out of the putrid hiding spot. "Lucky you being unconscious," He joked to himself, as he slung her arm over his shoulder. But as he stared at the woman's sleeping form, he couldn't help but think over the conversation between the two men. 'Subject Four?' that phrase alone, created so many questions, but he was willing to bet his all of his night's winning that this woman could possibly be connected to whatever it was those men were talking about. "I couldn't locate the sound of the noise," Jason's heart practically skipped a beat, as the words came from out of the darkness. Turning around slowly (partially because of the woman weighed him down, but also to regain his breath), he was thankful to find that it was only Cyclops. "Not the time for a jump scare," Jason said "Why. Did I miss something?" "Oh, you could say that." Jason explained everything he'd heard from the men to the robot: from the hacker to the whole Subject Four thing and even to the potential L.A.S complex assault. Cyclops listened and when he was finished, shook his head and spoke, "You really think that woman has anything to do with them." Jason shrugged, "Honestly, this night has gotten pretty weird in the space of only about thirty minutes, but those men referred to this Subject Four as she. I say it's a safe bet that she might have something to do with them." "And if that's the case, then why not give her up" Cyclops argued, "Another safe bet is that guys like that might not be too pleased with the public having knowledge of who she is and they may want to have all loose ends tightened." Jason paused and glanced at the woman, "Plus, to give her up to guys like that. It....it would just seem cruel to me" Jason sighed "The devil have I gotten myself into, I haven't the clue. But I think I know somewhere I can probably get some answers." He eased the woman into Cyclop's arms and looked at him "What are you planning?" Cyclop's voice, full of simulated concern "Something a little risky and dangerous, but don't worry about it. Use the sewers and take her back to our place." "That makes me worry more." Cyclops replied, scooping the woman into his arms "And what am I supposed to tell Arcemides and Rose about this?" "Think of something, I'll be back soon, trust me." "But-" But before Cyclops could protest anymore, Jason was already outside of the alley
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