Jason chuckled broadly as he strapped golden daggers to his thighs, “Yeah… and I didn’t know who I was cuz my memories had been wiped and we were being attacked by venti. All in all? Not my favorite day in history.” Wes’ glee was infectious and Jason beamed down at them, “After this war is over, my ass is retiring public office. I’ll have nothing but time on my hands, so taking you for a quick flight will be no big trouble at all.” But Wes’ offer of payment made him blanch slightly, “I’ll take a pass on raising the dead. The last time I saw the ghost of someone from my past it was the mania of my mother and I got stabbed through the gut.” He raised his shirt up, revealing the large and gnarled scar that marred the abs he’d worked so hard, “There’s a matching one on my back where the sword went in. But uh… really there’s no need for you to do anything.”
He caught the bag easily and slung it over his shoulder, pausing to push an errant strand of hair that had escaped his braid out of his eyes; he really needed a haircut… but it didn’t seem like that was in his future. “it is the only priority. Supplying the survivors takes precedence over anything else, including my life. I swore I’d protect the Greeks and I’m going to fucking do it.” He headed towards the exit, beckoning to Wes before pausing and turning back around, “If I die… don’t bring my shade back for Percy if he asks for it. I don’t want my best friend and my brother to see me like that. If I’m gone… I’m gone. I’ll stand before the Judges knowing that I did the best I could… but if I’m gone… keep me gone. ”
Very quickly, Wes realized that necromancy probably wasn't Jason's favorite subject-- let alone practice. It was understandble, of course. Given not only his previous encounter with the dead, but-- well, necromancy in general had a bit of a reputation for being bad news. They'd become used to others' opinions by now. It hardly fazed them. "Yeesh.. yeah, that's..." Wes eyed his scar and shook their head. Subconsciously, they scratched at their own mark where it creeped up just above their collarbone on the side of their neck. "If it makes you feel any better, I died. Like, not for ages, but long enough for them to start filling out a death certificate..." Although they had meant to bring up that slice of their past as a relatedness to the apparent shit train that had been Jason's previous experiences, they felt an awkward, perhaps slightly uncomfortable chuckle bubbling to the surface. But just as soon as it came, they patched over the reaction with a dumb grin and a shrug. "--before my dad dragged my ass back to reality, obviously. That's how we met. You don't get this sort of radiant pastyness from makeup alone, you know. I'm one of a kind, really." Their hand reached up to execute the smallest flip of their hair before they followed him out the door and readied for him to take the lead.
But before they could get moving, their awfully tall partner in crime stopped, and Wes was left standing there under a very serious gaze. Their grip on the strap of the bag over their shoulder tightened, and they swallowed, supplying the man in front of him with a sure nod. "Yeah. Okay. Believe me, I get it, so..." Folding an arm over their chest and shutting their eyes, the child of Thanatos spoke a clear declaration. "I hereby swear on the River Styx and the pain of death, that should you die in any way, shape, or form, I will not raise your soul, shade, or ghost from any realm of the godforsaken Underworld." With their oath completed, they dropped their arm and looked up once more. "Cool?”
“Okay.” She echoed, honestly feeling a bit better now that Wes finally agreed that they weren’t to blame. She knew their self-esteem was low, and generally they blamed everything on themselves, so to hear that for once they weren’t going to was good. “Thank you. I’m proud of you.” She whispered to them. She knew it was a big deal for them, and hopefully, they truly meant what they said and didn’t just say it to make her feel better. The kiss on the forehead was a small gesture, but one that made her feel more comfortable nonetheless. The tears, however, still weren’t stopping and at the mention of dying her tears started to fall even faster. “That was real? I- I didn’t know what was real or what was fake. I didn’t know if I was hallucinating or what was going on. I thought I passed out because my blood was just ugh-everywhere but in my body.” She said with a slight frown. She closed her eyes, her eyebrows furrowing together as she tried to remember details. “Tayla, she might have told me I died? Honestly, everything is such a blur after Tayla saved me. I remember thanking her a bunch of times and she told me to stop, that I had no reason to thank her. Isn’t that silly? What else did she say..she said a lot of things to me but I couldn’t really focus because I was still really weak. I remember her helping clean me up because I was covered in blood. Then I fell asleep and here we are. But I owe her literally everything, whether she thinks so or not. I have to go find her to thank her now that I’m like, actually in the right state of mind and functioning.”
Symbolism. While Blossom never was a real believer in it, this situation made sense. Out of everyone, she was literally the symbolism for peace, whether she liked it or not. Coming that close to death, it had to mean something. When Wes said that her still being here should give everyone hope, she shook her head. “No, I can’t possibly be that big of a deal. The fact that people like Percy and Jason are alive should give people hope. They’ve done all of this before, numerous times actually. They’re the reason I have hope this all will end.” She sighed, leaning into the embrace Wes offered while trying to avoid her wounds. “I’d prefer if neither of us died anytime soon.” She muttered, giving their hand a squeeze back. She looked at them again as tears still continued to flow, “Thank you. Thank you for coming back, thank you for being alive, thank you for being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you, or what I did to deserve you as a friend either. But, I’m still so happy you’re here, and that you’re safe and healthy.”
Wes had come to realize that Blossom had become a leaky faucet -- maybe even a tap that hadn't been entirely shut off, that had begun to pour out a thin stream of water into the sink with nothing there to stop it. They were frantic, panicking mentally as they groped around their mind for something, anything, that would stopper their friends tears. "Hey, hey, hey, hey-- B. Blossom. Petals. My beautiful angelic wingwoman-- Look at me." Only, Wes didn't really allow her to respond for herself as they took her face in their hands and turned it towards them. They kept their eyes and expression soft as they looked over her, offering as much of their chill (which wasn't much) as they could. "Yes, okay? You went all ghostly for a minute, and you found me, and I was really freaked out--" they sighed, then shook their head and showed the faintest smile of amusement. "You turned me into a total mess. I tried to run back here and I was so crazy about making sure that you were okay that a tripped over a goddamn root and ripped one of the knees in my favorite pair of jeans. A tragedy, honestly. But at least it makes me look even edgier." They grinned once more before returning to greater sincerity. "My point is, you were only out for a sec, and Tayla brought you back. That's what friends do. It's not that extreme of a thing, ya know? Think of all the people that've had to have CPR. It's nothing. Sadly, not everyone is as special as me."
Again, they were wiping her tears, this time using their shirt as a handkerchief. "Well, you a big deal to me. I'd put ten times more hope in you than I would in them any day." Wes squeezed her a little tighter as they laid there, nuzzling into her hair in yet another attempt to bring out a proper smile from her, one that was free of leaky eyes. "You, me, Tayla-- no one is gonna be dying on my watch. I'm gonna stay here and watch over you two crazy angels. And I won't be fighting unless it's absolutely necessary. I'm going on supply raids in the city, isn't that cool? Seems my sneaking is good for something after all."
“No rest for the wicked or something like that I guess,” Percy replied quietly with a gentle shrug, “I guess it kind of makes me an expert on running this sort of shit.” He didn’t really know what to think about his bad luck, but there wasn’t much that could be done. The fates had rolled the dice and he’d been unlucky once more. Pausing for a second, Percy allowed the conversation about Wes’ father to run its course. There wasn’t much more to be said. “We’ve got a volunteering process, we set you up with a team, make sure you’ve got someone experienced in case you need to get out of trouble. We can see if they’ve got anything you want to do?” He wasn’t really comfortable just giving out missions with no oversight.
"Yeah. That's not such a bad way to look to at it. Without you we'd probably be dead in the water." Wes offered him a slight grin, making an attempt to raise his spirit if only a little bit. Maybe the circumstances sucked, but that didn't mean everyone had to be miserable all the time. Blossom and Tayla had taught them that much. "That'd be awesome, actually." Wes seemed to brighten at the prospect of having something meaningful to do. "Obviously better than brooding around and doing nothing."
Tayla had just got a cup of coffee, the warm mug wrapped between her fingers, when she noticed a familiar figure hunched over their arm and not seeming to be paying attention to the world around them. “Wes!” She exclaimed, a bright grin taking over her features as she immediately jogged over to meet them. Tayla had heard from Blossom that they were back and had been trying to find a free moment to track them down and make sure they were okay. But her recent schedule of rounds through the infirmary didn’t leave much time for anything other than eating and sleeping. That didn’t matter now though. She had a free moment and she was going to take advantage as long as she could.
Stopping just beside them, she glanced over their shoulder to see what they were doing and she couldn’t help but laugh softly as she noticed the familiar pattern taking shape on their arm. “Are you practicing camouflage body paint? You do remember you can turn invisible right?”
Wes had been doing what they could to help, but as they had quickly found out, there was a lot going on that required said help. They didn’t regret volunteering; in fact, they rather liked having something to do to pass the time, especially if it made them feel useful. However, some of the tasks they’d been given had been more… exciting than others, so today, they elected to take a break. Sort of. Apparently, even when they were “taking a break,” they found themself continuously trying to do something constructive. In this case, that was testing out some camouflage.
“Well hey there, Singsong.” Wes produced a teasing grin when they heard the familiar voice behind them. “Finally escaped from the medical dungeon, I see.” Actually, they couldn’t see, because they hadn’t yet removed their eyes from their concentrated task of applying a spot of muddy color on their left forearm— but, semantics. It was when Tayla leaned over their shoulder that they released a drawn out sigh and turned their head to catch her gaze. “Of course, I know that. But I’m not the only one who can.” They shrugged. “I thought I’d practice just in case anyone wanted to get really serious about some sneak attack …and I’m just bored, so.” After patting the empty patch of ground beside them, they turned back to their work. “I could do you, if you like. There are certain limitations to painting myself, after all.”
“Well the first time I did it was because I was plummeting into the Grand Canyon so that was fucking terrifying… but really it’s some pretty cool shit.” He turned and sized Wes up with an appraising eye, “You know… you’re tiny enough…… when this is all over if we both survive I’ll put you on my back and fly. So you can see exactly what it’s like.” Nodding at the pendant, Jason smiled slightly. it wasn’t unusual for people to have hidden weapons, Percy’s Riptide being a prime example. Watching Wes disappear and reappear made him nod again, “That’s handy. Because if anything happens and we get cornered… you’re to use that and get the supplies back here. Leave me, and supply the survivors. That’s your priority number one.”
"Jesus... I've been there and it's awesome and all, but I wouldn't wanna experience what it's like to be there plummeting to your death. Good fuckin' thing you found out you could fly." As Wes was sized up, they stood there awkwardly and glanced down at themself by habit. They couldn't really see a point in it because, well... there wasn't much to size. "Really?" Jason's proposal had their silver eyes lit up like their adoptive grandma's newly polished tea set. "Aw, man! That'd be awesome! I mean-- I don't wanna waste your time if you have more important things to do, which you probably do, but if you want to, I wouldn't say no... but also if you do, we'll make it square. ‘Kay? You take me for a fly and I'll.. uh..." Wes blinked at the ceiling and scratched the back of their head, hoping they had something similarly as cool to share, "I could raise a long lost friend slash relative from the dead for a visit, or hand paint you or do makeup...?" None of those ideas sounded nearly as cool as his, but they couldn't let him do all the work, right?
With a thin breastplate and a pair of arm bracers applied, Wes felt more or less equipped. After rummaging around a bit more, they found a sizable bag and strapped it over their shoulder before also throwing one to Jason. "Priority número uno. Got it." Wes nodded readily. Were they fond of possibly having to ditch their new companion in the face of danger? No. However, they knew supplies were badly needed, and if the worse came to pass, hopefully they would be able to honor Jason's command.
“Formalities have their place but it’s definitely not in the here and now.” Jason strode along the corridor, counting on Wes to keep pace with him as they walked together, “So… Jay works perfectly. Annabeth calls me Jaybird; because I can fly and shit.” Ducking into a side room that served as a temporary armory Jason crossed his arms in front of him, “I’m glad I had your attention at a potential felony. We’re going on a supply run. Which means breaking into various and sundry New Roman homes and businesses. You’re going to need a weapon… and some light armor… and a bag. Bag for sure, because we’re coming back with a bunch of shit. Hopefully nobody sees us and you won’t need the weapon, but it’s better to be sure.”
Keeping pace with Jason required Wes to hustle. Luckily, they were light on their feet, so it wasn’t any trouble speeding up to stay at his side. “Aw man, I’ve always wondered what that’d be like. I love heights, but obviously I’m not gonna be taking flight anytime soon.” Once they entered the armory, Wes paused to hear the other’s instruction. “Sounds like a plan. I’ve already got a weapon,” they tapped at the black crescent moon pendant hanging from their neck, “so all I need is some armor and a bag.” They began to walk around the room, searching for any armor that wasn’t too big. “I’m pretty good at not being seen. I’m small, for one, and two--” for a few seconds, the child of Thanatos disappeared completely from sight, and reappeared while they continued to speak, “I’ve got some innate sneaking power, which might come in handy if we do run into any trouble.”
Standing in the center of the crowd mentally going over the list of things that he had to and wanted to do it took a second for the voice to startle him out of his reverie and another two seconds for him to figure out where exactly the voice was coming from, “Gods you’re short.” he exclaimed before his manners took hold of him, “Sorry. Yes. Hello. Well…” he thought for a moment before holding up a finger, “Well first you can never call me sir again. Jason’s fine. or Jay… or any number of terrible nicknames if you’re Leo, but you’re not Leo so Jason or Jay is fine.” Thinking for a minute more he chewed on his lip, “Well…Wes, isn’t it? How do you feel about breaking some laws and angering the establishment with me?”
Being recognized for their height was no novelty, and was taken smoothly without insult. “Yeah, I know. Crazy, huh?” In a funny way, it almost made them more confident to acknowledge it-- and Jason’s request for a lack of formality certainly helped. “Thank gods,” they breathed, “I hate formalities. Just better to start off that way, just in case. I think I’ll go with Jay. Jay’s cool. --And, Wes is correct, but I’ll answer to Nova, too.” They shrugged. “I’m not picky.” When Jason finally proposed a task, the grin on their face instantly grew to something ready and mischievous. “Dude, you had me at law breaking. Where do we start?”
⊰ – Wes just wanted to be useful. Blossom was still more or less on bedrest, Tayla was doing her medic magic, Z had been hanging out with some tiny humans, and Nico was... well, gods knew where Nico was, but Wes knew he was busy, so right now, they were on their own. And they had nothing to do, so rather than standing around, they went looking. It wasn’t hard to locate Jason Grace. For Wes’ perspective, he may as well have been a human skyscraper. As soon as they’d crept up to the blond, the child of Thanatos spoke without hesitation. No way were they going to let someone’s height intimidate them. “Heeey, Big Man--!” they started off with a grin. An awkward grin, but nobody’s perfect, right? “I mean, like in an authoritative sense, but obviously it applies literally too, y’know? Aha...” Quickly, one hand flew to the back of their neck to scratch there. Nervous tick. “Anyway-- I was wondering, since I’ve got literally nothing on the agenda, if I could, uh-- have something to do? ..Sir?”
The second Wes took her hand she looked up at them and smiled. It was a small gesture, but a comforting one nonetheless. “I would never ditch you. Well, intentionally that is.” She promised, giving their hand a light squeeze. Once Wes joined her on the bed and wrapped her in a hug she let out a sigh, resting her head on their chest as the tears started to flow silently down her cheeks. “No.” She said as Wes tried to throw the blame on themself. With that, she broke from their grasp and sat up to look at them with a stern look on her face. “Don’t you dare do that. Don’t even think it. Not for a minute, not even a millisecond. This is all me. This has nothing to do with you. I made all these decisions Wes, not you. I’m the one that wanted to stay. I was the one that acted stupid, okay? I’m so, so happy you weren’t here to see any of what happened, that you’re fine and safe. I-” She started to explain, but she had to pause and take a deep breath. Words were getting harder and harder to say due to the steady flow of tears rolling down her face. Her body wanted to start sobbing, but she couldn’t. Not yet. She quickly tried to wipe her tears away before she continued to talk.
“I should have done more. I should have left with you. I knew leaving earlier would have been safer, but my gut was telling me to stay. My gut told me I had to go out and do my usual morning routine one more time. When the first ambush started, my gut told me I had to go back and get my stuff. Then once I was trying to leave, the second ambush started. I should have ducked for cover, but I couldn’t. I just…I ran. And looking back I was so stupid. Why did I think running would do anything? I should have ducked for cover, ran into a store, done something other than run. But then I saw everything in front of me. People burning to death, people getting pelted by numerous arrows and bleeding out. The screams.” She paused and shook her head, putting her head in her hands. “Then I was getting hit by arrows. Three to be exact. And I thought I was dead. Then, Tayla came and she saved me. I died, at least I think I did. Everything just didn’t seem real so I don’t know. But Tayla, she literally saved me and while in that moment I was happy she did, I started to think about it as we were on our way here. What if I was meant to die? We’re at war now, so what if peace was supposed to die?” Then she quickly shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m going off point. Point is, I think this all was meant to happen. It was a wake-up call, you know? Everything happens for a reason. But just, please don’t blame yourself. If you do that, that’ll really kill me. You are not to blame, not in the slightest.” She said and finally, looked over at them and finally laid back down, resting her head on their shoulder and closing her eyes. “I’m just glad to be here, and I’m glad that you’re safe.”
This wasn’t the first time that Blossom had jumped up and given them a proper scolding, but considering her physical state and the circumstances they had found themselves in, her reaction stunned them. Wes laid there blinking up at her, allowing her to speak through the the end of her rant, but keeping a hold of her hand and squeezing it, nonetheless. There were times when Wes doubted themself, and when they thought that they weren’t good enough -- it was the way they had been raised. If they received a B as a final course grade, their father would frown and ask why they hadn’t gotten an A, constantly voicing criticism. Even if it was constructive and the man only wanted his “son” to succeed, it wasn’t exactly the most nurturing way to raise a child. Such a lifestyle had damaged Wes’ self esteem, which had played a large part in how long it took them to finally come out. It was also why they kept blaming themself whenever Blossom got hurt. They always felt like there was something they could have and should have done that they failed to do. Only Blossom herself could stop them from thinking such things.
“Alright, alright! Okay-- okay...” The child of Death looked up at the daughter of Peace with a trembling lip and watery eyes. Watching Blossom cry was particularly agonizing. She was the brightest person they knew. Tears simply didn’t suit her. “I won’t. I’ll forget about it. I--” They had about said ‘I’m sorry,’ but that would have been completely against the agreement they had just made. Blossom settled back down and laid her head on their shoulder. Wes couldn’t resist tilting their head down to press the tiniest kiss to the top of her head. “You did die. I saw you. And if it wasn’t for Z and Wally, I probably would have run my feet into the ground getting here, hoping you weren’t actually gone... I might as well owe Tayla my own life for saving you. But whatever symbolism you thought this was about-- peace dying or whatever --fuck that, okay? If that was true, you wouldn’t be here. So maybe the fact that you are still here should give us all some hope, right?” Once more, they brushed a hand down her hair and squeezed her tight. “You don’t get to die without me.”
Leo was used to many people trying to guess his full name. Some joked about actors with the name Leonardo. To this day no one had guessed that his full name was Leopold. “Unfortunately, no. Like King Leopold the Second. Leonardo is much more preferable.” King Leopold wasn’t exactly someone Leo liked to look up to. “We are going to be working together. Once we get further into the war, any bias other people have will fall away. The only thing that will matter is that you’re able bodied.”
Wes blinked when Leo announced the true origin behind his name. King Leopold sounded like someone they’d heard about in history class... but they couldn’t remember the specifics. Another tick later, their head tilted at the elder demigod. “So, why not just say it’s da Vinci? No one can tell you who you are. We have every right to make ourselves into whoever we want to be. Hell, it’s not like I was born with the name Nova; it’s the name I’m trying to take up because I want to, and I’m not gonna let anybody stop me.” Wes’ personal re-invention was a slow process, one that had been going on for nearly three years now. Sometimes it was hard to part with their past, but every day it was getting a little easier. “Meh, I’ll try to be, but I don’t know if I have the best skills to offer. I’m an okay fighter, but I’m better at sneaking around. And I’ve got some pretty rad makeup and body paint skills, but I doubt that’s gonna come in handy unless someone wants to run into battle covered in war paint-- which would be awesome, just not totally practical.”
“Thanks.” Percy appreciated the lack of formality. This was difficult enough without people trying to put anyone on a plinth. He knew that that was a dangerous thing to do. He had seen what it had done to Thalia and Luke respectively. Thalia had joined the hunters to avoid it and Luke’s fate had been much worse. “We’ll pull together and make it through this.” He frowned gently, unsure of exactly how they were going to achieve their goals.
Gazing at Wes, he wasn’t sure that he could act so relaxed right now. He always felt tightly wound, frustrated before a battle. But Wes seemed to almost be relaxed. Everyone had coping mechanisms and yet Percy wondered whether this was truly healthy. Regardless, he was hardly one to talk about health. His coping mechanisms weren’t any better.
“I don’t know about just getting it, I don’t think I ever just got it, it was more like becoming numb to it. It needs to be done. I’m best equipped to do it. So I do it.” It was a hard burden to bear, but there wasn’t much else to be done right now. “Although I don’t know about your father scoffing at the idea of it, when I met him, he didn’t seem to find death funny, he didn’t even particularly seem to hate everyone or anything like that, it was more like he was aware that he had a job to do, someone needed to do it otherwise we’d have a world consumed by over population. Thanatos realises what his duty is and he fulfils it.” He paused for a moment and shrugged. “Whatever you decide to do will be right for you, but make a decision quickly. We don’t have much time before something else happens.”
“That really sucks, though.” Wes frowned. “I mean, if anyone deserves a break, it’s you. You’ve been through this sort of shit, what... like, three times?” They shook their head as it turned back toward the sky. “Life literally gives zero fucks when it comes to fairness.” It was interesting to hear about their father from someone else. Wes had only met him briefly, and what they hadn’t been able to assess then, they had turned to mythology to understand. “Oh no, I didn’t mean he thinks death is funny, no way. Just like, the things people do to avoid it might seem ridiculous sometimes. But-- I guess that’s what hope is for.” After a few more moments of silence, Wes sat up and snatched the scythe beside them to return it to its dormant pendant form. As they clasped the chain behind their neck, they regarded Percy with an open demeanor. “Well, what do we need most? I’m not the strongest fighter, but I can sneak around alright. Maybe I could scout or raid some supplies from the city?”
Once Tayla and Blossom were able to reach the infirmary, Blossom was put on bed rest. At first, she was a little annoyed, but once she laid down she realized how exhausted her body truly was. She needed to sleep. While she was sleeping though, her nice, peaceful dreams started to turn into nightmares. Nightmares of what she had seen. People bleeding, people on fire, people dying, destruction, it was awful and her body was so tired that she wasn’t waking up. Eventually, she couldn’t take it anymore and jolted awake with a gasp, causing her to wince due to the sudden and quick movement of her sitting up. She closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath to try and relax and once she opened her eyes again, she noticed someone next to her bedside. Wes. Despite everything that just happened in her dreams, she was able to form a smile as she saw her friend. “Hey. I’m glad you’re okay, that you’re here.” She said, and couldn’t help it as tears quickly started to form in her eyes. “I’m sorry I just…I thought I might not ever see you again.” She whispered as she wiped her tears away and scooted over on her bed, patting the spot next to her. “Come here.”
@deathkid-dropout
The instant Z, Wally, and Wes had reached the lake, the latter had taken off running. They were like a madperson, darting around the people who spotted the beach and furthermore between the crowd in the armory, until they reached Blossom’s bedside and found their friend -- alive. They had been so relieved that they had crashed down on their already bruised knees, pressed their face into the cot, and cried. The anguish and most of the fear had lifted. It had been a happy-sad bout of tears. Happy, because she was alive; sad, because regardless of her survival, she was still heavily wounded and hadn’t yet returned to consciousness. So they waited at her bedside until she did.
Wes was dosing off in the chair they had pulled over. After the expedited walk back to New Rome, the expenditure of their powers, and their refusal to rest until their friend had woken, their reddened eyes were beginning to feel awfully heavy. They had propped an arm on their knee to rest their head in their hand. Every few moments, they closed their eyes and felt themself slipping towards the bed. They kept catching themself, but it was doubtful they’d be able to hold out much longer at this rate. Fortunately, they wouldn’t have to. All of a sudden, Blossom shot up was a gasp, then a cringe. Wes shook themself awake and swiveled toward her immediately. They could have scolded her, told her to lie back down because of her injuries, but they were so relieved that she was awake that they couldn’t bring themself to say such a thing.
“Please,” reaching out a hand, they took one of hers to hold and stroked the other down the length of her hair. “Of course I’m here. You didn’t think I’d let you ditch me so soon, did you?” A faded grin tilted the edge of their lips and a subsequent, faded laugh was coughed from their lungs. Blossom had taught them the importance of a smile, of positivity, and right now she deserved that happiness back in kind, no matter how broken it appeared. They settled onto the bed at her side and took her into a tight, but gentle hug, continuing to run a hand down her hair while fresh tears threatened to break. “Shh,” Wes quieted her and shook their head. “Hey, hey-- you have nothing to be sorry for, okay? If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. I shouldn’t have let you convince me to go without you. I’m the stupid one.”
In many ways, Leo was a lucky man. His father never outright forced him into something he truly distasted, he had been able to keep doing his art, and he had gone to mortal high school. He couldn’t say that many other Roman families were run that way. However, he had never really had a father. He remembered how manipulative his father had been when he was a child. He remembered the cold stares and leaving his office in tears. He remembered how hard training days with his father were for him. He felt both lucky and unlucky.
Now without his siblings and with what his father had done, he didn’t feel lucky. He didn’t even know who he was without his siblings. So much of his identity had been made to do what he thought protected them. He realized now that he barely did that. His twin was helping lead a war against people who just wanted somewhere safe to live. His little brother was speaking like his father as though it was normal. It made him feel sick. Did he ever do anything to keep them safe or had he rocked himself into a false sense of usefulness? He watched with a dull look. Had they pulled that move only a week ago, Leo would have been hooting and hollering in excitement. Now he with neutral expression.
“War changes everyone and everything. It has a way of pulling out the worst in people,” or, he thought, simply revealing it to those who were too naive to see it. Leo took their hand, his shake firm and practiced. “Leo Karavadra.” He wouldn’t let his fear of people knowing who his family was keep him from telling people his full name. Not after working for so long to push past what his family name was and creating himself in the Art world. “It’s war. Everything is bad luck. People become more superstitious during war. I wouldn’t take it personally, they’ll get used to you soon enough.”
Wes hadn’t been expecting any sort of excitement at the trick that concealed their weapon. It happened occasionally, of course, but the child of Thanatos referred to the motion only as habit. If anything, a lack of special attention was exactly what they needed right now.
The man had a firm handshake and complicated last name that Wes vaguely remembered having heard of as some big shot fancy Roman family, but Leo didn’t seem like some big shot fancy Roman guy, at least thus far, so Wes didn’t let the name faze them. “Leo? Like Leonardo da Vinci?” A sparkle of excitement flickered in Wes’ silver gaze-- faint, but still present. da Vinci was a far more interesting subject than war by far. Though, they still responded to Leo’s final point. “I try not to. Most of the time I don’t. We’re all supposed to be working together now though, right? So hopefully, yeah.”
It was an expeditious retreat for some, but few left as quickly or as efficiently as the trio of children of Hypnos, Hecate, and Thanatos. Upon collecting their things in boxes and loading them up in a combination of magic, a delightful stallion named Rhubarb, and their arms, they set off on a voyage toward Berkeley. It was close, according to Wally, and would serve as a temporary place of refuge until they could get any word from the other Greeks. There were many people with whom they had to regroup and plans would have to be made to keep as many innocent citizens safe. For Z, this meant preparing himself to handle the wounds of those around him that chose to stand up against the Romans should they aggress further.
As they wandered, the mewling of a kitten drew attention away from the expanse of road they would be traversing. Z’s eyes locked on Elwood, whose sweet, unassuming face beamed up at him from inside the box in his arms. Marble rested right beside him in the cardboard, curled in on herself. “I envy you,” the man murmured, loud enough for his cousin and his lover to hear. “For lunch, we should have a sit at the nearest Maccies. I could stand to shove a few chicken nuggets down my throat.” He tried to keep his tone light.
Wally was a little distraught, to say the least. Having to up and leave New Rome wasn't that bad, to be honest. Was he mad about it? Yes. Was he pissed off that someone was muddying the waters of Roman and Greek so they could create a bigger divide between the two sides? Oh yes, you bet your drachmas and dollars he was. Wally was ready to just start throwing every curse, hex and charm he could think of. Anger and magic seemed like the perfect combo for handling New Rome’s senators. But of course, he wasn't a completely loose cannon.
For Wally though, abandoning your home in search of another wasn't a big struggle. He had to leave his home when he was a child so that he could come to Camp Half-Blood. When he was old enough, he had to leave there and go to New Rome. Then he decided to escape and go to New York, then he ended up on Circe’s island. Wally wasn't a stranger to exploring. With his magic and some money behind him, there was no reason to worry about finding shelter. “We’ll find someplace with chicken nuggets, don't worry. What about you, Wes? What do you want? I figure we can put ourselves up in a nice hotel for a few days. Then we'll have to figure out where everyone else is.” Wally looked ahead of them, keeping a hand on the horse.
When Wes first received their cousin’s text about leaving town, automatically assuming they were coming without even asking, they’d been a bit surprised, though not remotely bothered. In fact, Z’s readiness to have them along was a heartwarming thrill. Despite the horrific surroundings, they had something to be happy about. Their only hold up had been Blossom. Departing Camp Half-Blood for Camp Jupiter without her hadn’t been a problem, knowing that she’d still be there whenever they came back; until she’d surprised them by coming to Camp Jupiter herself. There were threats lurking behind their departure this time. They were being forced out. Naturally, Wes had wanted to hang back and make sure their best friend made it out okay. But Blossom wouldn’t have it, so Wes had acted upon her wish that they go ahead of her, and here they were, backpack-clad with one of the couple’s boxes in their arms, walking in step alongside their cousin with no clue where they were headed.
Their eyes had been settled on the top of the box in their arms for some time. Content to be along, but haunted by quiet worry for their friend, they’d been in a trance of thought until Z spoke. The few words and the mewling around it snapped them to attention, and soon enough they were peeking into the kittens’ box from where they stood. “I’m cool with anything, really,” they glanced over to Wally. “You can’t go wrong with chicken nuggets-- unless you’re a vegetarian. Then you’re fucked.” The corner of their lips tweaked into a grin. “A hotel would be good, but I don’t know of many that take horses. No offense, Rhubarb.”
“McDonalds! McDonalds! McDonalds!” Z chanted in his soft, somewhat breathy voice as he continued to walk, smiling to himself the moment Wes got closer to peer inside the box. Elwood seemed equally as pleased with their presence, raising a paw up and attempting to stand on his hind legs before falling back down due to lack of balance. “Rhubarb is a taxpaying good samaritan. If they don’t offer him lodging, they’re not deserving of our money.” The way he spoke this time seemed indignant and he held his chin up a bit as he strode, but that confidence faltered a bit with him hunched over. He couldn’t remember the last time he had to walk this far. It helped to consider this his cardio for the week. His calves would be impeccable. Something dawned on him and his brow furrowed. “What exactly did either of you pack, anyway?” he asked rather suddenly. “If we’re stopped by the police right now, none of us would be arrested for biochemical terrorism, would we?”
Wally smiled tiredly at the two demigods next to him. He kept his eyes forward and on the path laid out before them. “Personally, I'm a fan of Burger King nuggets--” he paused mid-sentence. “Fuck, no more Burger Loft either now, huh? That's fucked up.” Wally shook his head. Thankfully, with all the packing and running around he'd done, there wasn't a ton of energy that would allow him to do a big power explosion right now. “I can transform Rhubarb to look like something else, or I'll turn him into a dog.” Wally looked in the box he had under his arm. “Just weapons and potions. I don't know about you guys, but stealing is an option for me. If we have to, we can take some clothes from the store. And I have enough money to get us fast food for a few days -- along with the hotel. I think we need to be more worried about monsters though. We're out of camp borders, we're pretty vulnerable. The best thing for us to do now is to get to a hotel, I'll put up some magical charms to hide us as best I can. That means, if you guys can help it, no leaving the hotel room.”
“Sorry, Wally. I’m with Z. Can’t beat McDonald’s.” Wes smiled at the kitten’s attempt to stand. They had a particular soft spot for animals. For the most part, they found them to be far better company than people. “A dog would be cool. A cute dog. Nobody can say no to a cute dog.” The question of what they’d brought had Wes blinking for a few seconds as they recalled what they had shoved into their backpack. “Uh, some clothes, toiletries, makeup, some journals…” they shrugged and looked to their cousin. “Like I told you, I don’t have much.” If it hadn’t been for Wally’s comment, they may never have remembered the threats of the mortal world. They’d lived in the Legion long enough to set aside thoughts of the dangers beyond the border, because they hadn’t considered having to cross it again so soon. “Oh, right. Well, I’ve got my scythe, so if a monster does come along, I think I can put up a decent defense. And if you ever need help committing a bit of theft--” All of sudden, Wes vanished into thin air. Out of all the gifts they’d inherited from their father, the invisibility was undoubtedly their favorite. They needed a bit of fun, and maybe the guys did too, so Wes took extra care to be stealthy as they snuck around behind the son of Hecate and cradled the box in one arm to pluck a hair from his head, only to reappear a second later at the spot where they had been, flashing a mischievous grin.
The mention of Burger King only elicited a scoff from Z, and he nodded along with Wes’ agreement that the golden arches held the superior nugget. “Somehow, the aesthetic of two gay dads, their gothic child, and their myriad of house-pets backpacking through California is oddly comforting. Very mortal,” he reasoned, once again to himself. Upon hearing what they were carrying, he found himself not even remotely surprised. “I couldn’t even bring myself to pack my new kitchen knife set and you both brought weapons?” To think they would travel like ordinary people, free of incriminating items, was a foolish notion. Neither of the people he had surrounded himself with embraced the human side of their being. Evidence lied within the fact that most of their possessions were enchanted by magic to be easier to carry and the fact that he blinked and Wes had disappeared from sight. A moment later, they returned and Z shook his head, humored. Their abilities made him feel much safer knowing they’d be out in the world with monsters for an unknown amount of time. “I’d affectionately call you two my heroes and swoon, but I’m not sure what message it would send to Plato and his ethics if I praised you two for offering to commit theft. Although...” Z trailed off. “...the three of us do have the perfect skill set to rob a bank. Interesting.”
The son of Hecate winced when he felt something pull on his hair. “What the f--” he saw Wes reappear and smiled a little more to them. “Impressive, that'll definitely help us out. But, now listen, we don't know how long we'll be on the road or where we're officially going. We take what we need, if we need it. For now, we need to eat, get shelter and get the cats some food. We also will need to buy some heavy fragrances to keep the monsters from catching our scent. The nastier, the better.” He nudged Z a bit. “This one’s already got his old lady smell down pat.” The light tone they managed to keep was impressive. But it wouldn't last long, he imagined. As they made a path through the forest, Wally had to wonder. “Where is Lupa’s house?”
“Yeah, so mortal,” Wes’ silver eyes rolled in their sockets over a breathy chuckle. “Gotta admit though, we’re a pretty hot fam aesthetic.” Z may not have been your average battle-ready demigod, but his cousin wouldn’t have it any other way. Sometimes they needed a little normal. A little mortal. Wes had given up that part of themself to start fresh and put past lies behind them. The revelation of their godly parentage was the restart button they’d never known they’d needed. “Meh, bank robbing’s too obvious. We’d get caught a lot easier. Better to hit a lot of smaller venues over time,” they said to Z, “and thanks,” to Wally. “Sounds like a plan to me, not that I’m at all a fan of catching some repulsive scent, but whatever it takes, I guess.” The question of Lupa wasn’t expected in the slightest, but grabbed the young one’s curiosity no less. “The Wolf House?” Blinking, they paused and turned where they stood, heading off the trail in search of a somewhat sizable rock. When they found one, they crouched to inspect it and hummed once they had analyzed its surface. Moss always grows on the north side of stone -- it was one of the few tricks they’d gotten out of Boy Scouts. “It’s up that way, to the north,” they straightened and pointed in the mentioned direction, their head tilting as an afterthought. “Why?”
It was moments like these that made Z fear what was to come next. He couldn’t see carefree skies on the horizon, only darkness and unfortunate agony. For now, though, he could find himself scowling playfully at the blond or unabashedly smiling at the antics of his companions. “You must find old lady pheromones to be irresistible then, love,” he mused as he quickened his pace to plant a soft kiss to Wally’s cheek. He went back to the earlier stride immediately after. No use wasting energy with his rather short legs. “Won’t the horrendous smells we need to mask our scents from monsters also put a damper on your plans of stealing any essentials?” The name Lupa didn’t immediately trigger any memory in Z’s mind. He looked over to glance at Wes to ask what Wally was speaking on, only to find them breaking away from the path for a moment. Where were they going? “Uhm…” he practically hummed, more confused by the moment. When they returned, he finally set out to pose the question he’d had for a few moments now. “Who exactly is Lupa and why is their home referred to as ‘the wolf house’? Shouldn’t we be avoiding wolves considering we’ve got three prey animals with us?” Valid question. Ignorant, but valid.
Wally nodded when Wes was able to answer his question. He stopped moving and held the horse by their saddle. “Lupa was the wolf who raised Romulus and Remus. She's stayed with Rome and New Rome. When Roman demigods come here, they are first trained by her and her pack of wolves. I was just thinking, about if she'd attack us or not. But really--” he was caught off guard by a buzzing from his pocket. “I think I'm getting a text.” Pulling his phone out, Wally stared at the screen and his eyes froze for a moment. “We gotta go back.” He turned around, sighing. “It's Percy. He said to come to the lake, where I built it.” Wally turned back to his friends to tell them about what he, Percy, and Caspian had done. “We made it as a training ground, under the lake. He said that's where they're meeting up. I guess they aren't leaving the city. We should go back. It won't take us too long, and we'll still be with the rest of the Greeks. What do you two think?”
The kiss that Z planted on Wally’s cheek coaxed a faint smile from the child of Thanatos. Wes was glad for their cousin. They didn’t know Wally, considering they’d only just met, but Z trusted him and loved him, which led them to trust him too. “I don’t think Lupa would attack. Whether or not she’s aware of what’s been going on back in New Rome, the three of us alone don’t exactly pose a threat. Besides, there’s plenty of prey in these woods for her pack to feed themselves. If she wanted to attack us, we’d probably be dead already.” When the blond said he was getting a text, Wes glanced at him out of habit. The look that flashed across his face had them guessing that something was wrong, and when his urgent announcement to them followed, that suspicion was more or less confirmed, leaving the youngest member of their party with a nervous itch. Blossom hadn’t texted them of her departure yet, and if she still hadn’t left… “Yes,” their posture stiffened in a sudden attitude shift to graveness. “If the Greeks are still in New Rome and we’re being called to an underwater training facility -- which is awesome, by the way,” they couldn’t resist slipping the compliment in there, “--that must mean bad news… right?” The dormant weapon hanging from their neck started to seem an awful lot heavier than usual.
Z watched as Wally looked down to his phone and tilted his head, curious about what was going to be said before the device’s interruption. Was Lupa such that dangerous of a being? If she worried Wally this much, she had to be, right? When the statement for them to go back was in the air, the man’s leg rose and he spun on his heel, already walking back the way the trio had come from. “We won’t know what sort of news until we get there... but let’s hope it’s not bad. Come on then, Rhubarb,” he murmured, lulling his head to the side as he wandered. His eyes flashed a faint purple and so did the creature’s before it also turned and began walking back. “I sort of wish we’d at least gotten to Maccies. I could’ve ordered an inordinate amount of chicken nuggets for the meeting. The dipping being done would have been ludicrous.”
Wally smiled at Z and Wes. He rubbed Z’s back and turned around with him. “Don’t worry; once we do get chicken nuggets, they’ll taste so much better.” The son of Hecate looked back along the way that the trio had come. “I’ll get us in there. We don’t have to worry about that. Remember though, we’ll be heading back into a hostile land. Whatever happens, we all need to stick together and follow our instincts.”
Z’s continued commentary on chicken nuggets was one of the few things that was allowing Wes to keep their cool. Hostile land, Wally said. What kind of hostile? Wes wondered. Wally’s words were answered with an absent nod as they trekked along at their cousin’s side. It was easier to count their steps and cast the occasional look at the kittens than it was to think on all the possible scenarios that could have prompted their return.
Ten minutes or so later, Wes had just about set their worries aside. They’d been on the brink of asking Z if they could carry the kits for a little while, when there was a strange shift in the atmosphere around them. The pendant of the moon necklace Blossom had gotten them turned especially cold against their skin, and for a moment they turned an anxious glance over at their two travelling companions. They didn’t appear to have sensed anything different, so what…
“Wes?”
It was just a whisper, hardly audible, but the child of Thanatos honed in on it with the same innate instinct they had for detecting the presence of spirits, only this was one spirit they had never expected to see. “B--?” They stopped dead in their tracks, pale eyes blown wide as they took in the spectral form of their best friend. “Wes, I-- I’m so sorry. I love you.” When Blossom flinched and her spirit flickered, Wes seemed to snap back to their senses. If she was here, like this, that meant…
“No--” Wes gasped under their breath as equal doses of fear, anguish, and anger pulsed through their bones. “Blossom, don’t. I’m coming back. Just hold on, please--” But before they could finish, she spoke up once more, and as Wes stood there trembling, they could practically feel their heart freezing in their chest. “I just want you to know none of this was your fault. I was stupid. I--”
“B--!!” Wes shouted.
And that was it. As quickly as Blossom’s soul had appeared, it was gone. Wes could hardly breathe. They dropped the box in their hands, the world outside of the spot where Blossom had appeared faded to black. They stumbled backwards once step-- two. Paused. Caught a breath and a half. Then, the panic fueled something far more productive. Their hands clenched into fists at their sides. The ground within a one-foot radius beneath them had already been drained of all life, and they pulled on that life force to propel themself forward, but not before straining their lungs to scream at the empty sky above them. “Don’t you touch her!!”
They bolted, siphoning their energy into their legs; yet, as impressive a start as it was, in true Wesley fashion, their clumsiness got the better of them. A slightly raised root threw them off balance and caused them to crash forward onto their hands and knees.
Wally had taken his hand off the horse and let his other personal belongings levitate next to him as he opened up his spellbook, going through the pages until he found a few charms for shielding yourself. He was tracing his finger along the instructions -- some of them faded from past users, when Wes caught his attention. He looked to see that the demigod had stopped a few feet back, looking horrified. Immediately, Wally drew closed the book and raised a hand, mist already pooling at his feet. He was ready for a fight.
When his eyes looked to where Wes was looking however, he saw nothing. No person, no monster, nothing. Not even a gust of wind. Confused, he became even more alarmed when Wes started to call out for Blossom. Likely, it was the same Blossom he’d met here and gotten to know just a tad. “Wes, what’s going on, dude?” His voice might as well have been muted, because Wes paid no attention. It was clear that Wes was becoming unhinged. Wally pulled Z back and started to pull on the horse when the ground around Wes died. The grass withdrew into the ground and even the dirt turned black. They made a leap forward and that was when Wally extended his hands out to aim at Wes. “What the hell is going on, Z?” Wally watched as Z’s friend crumbled to the ground. “Wes! Shut it! You can’t yell or someone is gonna hear.” Wally looked around and cursed. “Z, calm them down, please.”
Events were played out in too quick of a succession. In one moment, the air felt warm and cozy, like the cruel hands of war had not yet touched on the shoulders of a familial unit. Then one of three fell out of synchronous step. Wes’ lack of movement had certainly caught the eye of their cousin, but Z imagined it might have been the product of something grasping onto their attention briefly. It wasn’t until he heard their cry out that his spine straightened and he could feel a choking chill in the atmosphere.
Z turned to see what was going on. The first thing he noticed was the rather vacant stare his cousin had in a set direction. He recognized it to be similar to the gaze they’d given spirits in the graveyard on their first official meeting. On any other day, this may have seemed par for the proverbial course but today was different. Today, Greeks were being forced out of their homes in New Rome and into the fray of a cruel and unforgiving world. If Wes now communed with any departed, it could only spell something wicked. From the look on their face or the broken sound of their breathing, it was most likely far worse than Z could possibly imagine.
The air grew colder, denser, and it threatened to choke Z in the second of his appraisal of the situation unfolding before him. Grass browned and then greyed. The soil seemed lifeless and, for a moment, the sky appeared to weep. Suddenly, things didn’t feel right. They felt sickly. Perhaps almost powerless. Then Wes sprung, the only beacon or semblance of life in a sizable radius around them, in the direction they’d all been moving. The speed of which nearly gave Z whiplash as he shifted his head to watch them pass by. He was stunned. It hadn’t occurred to him that he could even use his voice until Wally’s rang beside him. His lips parted and he went to call out to his cousin only to watch them unceremoniously tumble onto the ground.
“Wes…” he whispered, tucking the box of kittens under one of his arms and dashing forward after them. His legs ached and threatened to buckle underneath him at how quickly his pace was altered but he moved through it. He was at their side within moments, box set now on the ground as his eyes flashed the faintest of cream and he exhaled out a thick aura of his own calm. “Wes... slow down.” His voice had an edge to it that bordered on a command. “What’s going on? What happened? You can’t just dart off like this alone.”
Wally’s voice had gone straight over Wes’ head. All that they could make out beyond their sight was the static in their ears. More accurately, like they were hearing voices on the ground from underwater. They could hardly even feel their own body as they surged forward, so hellbent on a single goal that they had forgotten about their surroundings. Forest paths weren’t the flattest or straightest. The root that tripped them up came out of nowhere, and before they knew it, the earth was under their hands rather than their feet.
Being knocked off their feet had been like hitting a brick wall. The energy they had been expending no doubt played a part in their delirium as well. They wanted to get up, to keep moving, but their body betrayed them, refusing to function and forcing them to catch their breath. While they rested there, their senses started to come through again. Their tunnel vision eased up, and the ache of their muscles and the stinging of their hands and knees began to register. But it wasn’t until a wave a warmth washed over them -- or perhaps it was the chilled aura around them dissipating -- that their breathing began to even and Z’s voice reached through the static, growing louder with each word and clearing the static, and his cousin’s mind.
“Blossom...” Wes coughed, practically wheezing while their eyes squeezed shut and their fingers curled in the dirt. Luckily, this patch wasn’t dying like the last. They were too spent to perform another such stunt. It wasn’t clear whether they were coughing or crying -- both, most likely -- as their answer croaked from their throat. “She appeared to me, she-- she was dead, or dying, I don’t know--” they sucked in a heavy breath. This time, the tears were certain. They could feel them stinging the corners of their eyes like frigid acid, each gasp for air rattling their bones. “She disappeared-- she disappeared, and I don’t know what happened. What if he took her? --Fuck!” Wes sat back on their heels and pressed the inside of their right wrist to the corresponding eye. Both palms were covered in dirt, but the left had been cut on a stray stone -- nothing major, though it would need cleaning and bandaging, at the least. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry--” Already, Wes’ waterproof eyeliner was proving to be not so waterproof.
Wally pressed his lips together and walked over to Z and Wes, slowly. He was careful not to put his guard down. He didn’t like that Z was so close, because anything could happen. Wes could turn on them, he had to allow that to be a possibility. The demigod didn’t know this other demigod. And what was to stop Romans from poisoning the minds of Wally’s supposed allies? While he was able to listen to them, Wally’s heart grew heavy as he heard Wes talk about Blossom. He moved away, letting Z comfort Wes so that Wally could make sure no one had heard this outburst. Wally kept his hands pushed out, trying to detect with a charm any signals of human life.
After a few minutes, he came back to them. “If you’re okay, Wes, we need to get moving. We should hurry up and try to get back to the lake before nightfall.” Wally looked to Z. “Is Wes gonna be alright to keep going?” He didn’t mean to sound inconsiderate, but things would be a lot less chaotic if they could get to the stronghold.
Tears fell and Z instinctively brought one of his hands to rest on Wes’ shoulder and the other rested on the jut of their jaw. He knew Blossom rather fondly, but he couldn’t imagine the closeness his cousin might have had to the girl. Either way, it hit the heart especially hard. She was special. Few were half as kind as she managed to be every day. To know that she passed, or was passing now, was a heavy blow. Z wanted to know how and why. To whose hand was she removed from this world? He figured they would learn as much when they returned. For now, he needed to get Wes to stand.
Wally spoke from behind them. The words, like before, felt distant. Z could feel himself suspended in water but still being able to breathe just barely. The same could not be true for Wes. They might as well have been drowning. “We’ll expedite our journey back…” he murmured as he finished with his surveying of Wes, ruling that he’d have to check up on their knees and hands when they were able to rest for a breath. He remembered packing the kit of emergency medical supplies Cat had given him for Christmas. “Can you stand? If not, I’ll help you get on Rhubarb.” He removed his hands and stood, holding one out to help Wes up.
Wes knew Wally didn’t mean any harm by urging them to move. They were vulnerable outside the borders as it was, and now with their shouting and the power they had stirred up, they were at even greater risk. Then, there was simply getting to the lake where they had been called, and hopefully, hopefully, they would find their friend more alive than dead. The thought of losing her was crippling. They hadn’t even realized just how much she’d meant to them until now. She may as well have been their sister, though-- she always had been, in a way.
Z’s touch had offered comfort that Wes sorely needed. As they let their tears go, they began to slow, and they could feel themself steadying, at least enough to resume their journey. Once he stood, Wes was left sat there wiping aside their ruined eyeliner with their shirt sleeve. Honestly, it wasn’t the worst makeup mishap they’d had, but it left them with an added irritated grumpiness all the same. “I’m fine,” they mumbled the words with a bit of attitude and sniffled before taking their cousin’s hand and rising to their feet. “I can walk.” To be sure, they closed their eyes to inhale and exhale a long breath -- a technique Blossom had taught them for calming down, centering themself... whatever you wanted to call it. And once they felt more confident on solid ground, the child of Thanatos found the box of kittens Z had set down and picked it up so that the trio of demigods could continue onward. “Okay,” they gave a final sniffle and looked back to the others. “Let’s go.”
At this point in life, Nico was painfully used to leaving things unattended and coming back to everything on fire - it seemed that if Percy Jackson was involved in any shape, way or form, life would eventually derail. That’s not to say he wasn’t surprised the moment he travel shadowed in the middle of New Rome and was greeted with swords to his face. To be fair - he gave the Senate the benefit of the doubt by allowing himself to be taken to their presence but only half an hour into insults and accusations he was done with it and made a nice dramatic exit by shadow travelling his way out and to another street -
his exit was calculated but his landing not so much so he wasn’t so sure as to where he had stumbled, considering Nico hadn’t been exactly the most present citizen in New Rome, he didn’t know much of the city. Stumbling out of the shadows he composed himself, putting on the aviator shades - sure he was easy to recognize but with the stubble growing and the shades maybe people wouldn’t spot him right away, so it was worth the attempt. “Well that sure was a lot of bullshit.” He groaned mostly to himself, unaware there was someone around.
Wes knew the city was risky territory, but despite that risk, they couldn’t quite resist the chance to raid some of the deserted shops. The camp needed supplies-- and since Wes hadn’t exactly held much in the way of finances while they had been in the Legion, now seemed the perfect opportunity to snatch some goods for themself as well -- mostly clothes, given their current wardrobe couldn’t fill much more than your standard backpack.
Dodging the patrols was easy enough. A little slip of invisibility here and there kept them virtually undetected. They were on their way back to base camp when they turned onto a sidestreet and lo and behold-- were greeted by the fabulously ungraceful entrance of a long awaited face. But despite their excitement, their stride remained constant as they continued down the lane.
“Ah, the prodigal king returns.” Nico was greeted with a grin from the child of Thanatos. “But, man-- if you think the city’s bad, you haven’t seen nothin’ yet.” As was absolutely customary, they held up their hand in preparation for the convoluted fist bump the pair considered their version of a secret handshake. “Welcome back to the shitshow.”
Raising an eyebrow at the child of Thanatos, Percy shrugged gently. To be perfectly honest he didn’t know if he had it in him to be angry with them, Wes was a relatively new demigod, and without as much experience surviving as many of the other Greeks. It made sense that this was difficult, it would perhaps be more worrying if this was an environment in which Wes thrived. Pausing for a moment, Percy considered his words. This was a time of unity and he wanted everyone to understand their worth to the Greek cause.
“It’s okay,” he replied without hesitation. Taking a breath, he gave him a gentle smile before shaking his head. “Don’t call me sir, please,” he said with a frown, “we’re not an organised standing army. I don’t know what we are. If we implement a chain of command then I’m not sure I’d want to be called sir.” He shrugged non chalantly and smiled again. “Just Percy is fine.” He scratched his forehead thoughtfully and nodded understandingly. “Don’t worry about it,” he said with a shrug, “these things happen in times of pressure and this time the pressure is really on.”
“It’ll never be something that I get used to, in fact I am sure that I will never come to peace with some of the things I’ve been forced to do or chosen to do.” He paused. “I find it helps, to remember what you’re fighting for. For me, aside for the safety of my friends, my familiy, aside from that, we haven’t done anything wrong Wes.”
"Okay. Just Percy.” Wes flashed the son of Poseidon a short smile. They were actually glad that he requested they be casual. They didn’t have the best track record when it came to respecting authority, and besides that, it was somewhat of a relief to hear they weren’t a standing army. Whatever they were... well, at least it wasn’t the hardcore, duty-bound body of the Legion. “Yeah,” they huffed, shaking their head, “you can say that again.”
The child of Thanatos quieted as Percy reflected on his experience and feelings toward the war and the surrounding chaos. Their eyebrows raised thoughtfully as they took it all in, eventually nodding at him. With a sigh, they set aside their weapon to drop down to the ground and lie back, arms folded behind their head. Wes stared up at the sky as they responded.
“I feel like I’m supposed to just get it, ya know? Like, the whole ‘everybody dies -- some earlier than others, but it’s still inevitable, so how people go out doesn’t matter’ thing. Dad’s probably scoffing at the idea of people taking sides and fighting, let alone getting upset over the anyone they’ve lost. But, he pretty much hates everyone in existence anyway, so...” They shrugged in halfhearted amusement. Then their countenance shifted to confusion and something akin to a scorned fervor before they turned their head and trained their eyes on Percy. “But I don’t feel that way. I can’t. After what they’ve done to Blossom and Tayla... I don’t think I’ve given as much shit as this before. --I just don’t want to fight. Not sword to sword, anyway. I think B’s pacifist attitude has started rubbing off on me too much.”
Leo had betrayed his family’s trust. He had ruined his relationship with his friends. He had left everything he had built in New Rome to stand with the Greeks. There was a heavy feeling in his chest that he was a horrible person for doing what he did. He knew that he would be an even worse person if he had stayed with the Romans. However, he didn’t feel like he fit with the Greeks. No matter what he did, he was a roman. No matter the family he left, he was a Karavadra. He might as well been wearing a sign that said Don’t trust me. He didn’t blame them for it. He wouldn’t have trusted someone like that either.
He tried his best to stay out of the way and help in different ways. He got water for people and tried to keep the kids occupied. He had the feeling no matter what he did people would be scared of his presence. He had been under the water for too long and need a break. He hadn’t expected the reaction he got when he entered the grove and it automatically made him lose any peace of mind he had gained. “Listen, kid, you should probably know who’s behind you before you snap off their head. I don’t even know who you are, why would I tell you to keep away.” His lips pressed into a firm line,“And unless you’re planning on swinging that thing at me, I’d loosen my grip.” Leo wasn’t worried about the kid. He spent more than half his life in the first cohort and had been trained from birth on how to fight.
Wes rarely judged people by their family. Though not to any degree as intense as the reputation of the Roman families in the city, Wes understood what it was like to be merely a product of a name. When they were still living in their small town mortal world, they were Christopher’s son. In most cases, who they were as an individual didn’t matter. Hell, if it wasn’t for their dad’s popularity, they may not have made it through as much of school as they did.
The sharp response to their snap had the black-clad kid flinching away like a wounded animal. They hadn’t actually thought about what they’d said; it had been a reflex triggered the events of the past few days. The taut grip around their scythe loosened instantaneously. Their right hand dropped away and the blade tipped down to the lifeless ground they had created. “Sorry,” a quiet, tired apology was voiced, but their eyes had yet to meet the other’s properly; for now, their attention was lingering on the weapon in their hand. “You’re right. It was a shit move...” After one long breath, they spun that weapon, and when it transformed back into the black crescent necklace that was so dear to them. While the momentum of the spin persisted, they let it wrap around their hand before unwinding it and clasping the chain behind their neck. Only then did they turn to the unfamiliar man.
“I didn’t mean to snap your head off-- or swing at you. I’m usually not snappy at all, actually. I guess they’re not lying when they say war changes people,” Wes coughed a half-hearted, awkward chuckle that died within seconds of sounding. Nevertheless, they offered a hesitant hand. “I’m Wes, or Nova, and I’m sorry for being a shit, again. You’re probably a really nice guy, but it seems like people in general have decided they’d rather I not hang around these days. I’ve become bad luck incarnate. Hence the, uh.. mood." As they finished, one hand came to scratch at the back of their neck.
