we're not kids anymore.
No title available
Andulka
Not today Justin
YOU ARE THE REASON
Discoholic đȘ©
One Nice Bug Per Day
untitled
No title available
Product Placement
Game of Thrones Daily
noise dept.
No title available
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Kiana Khansmith
Show & Tell
ellievsbear
d e v o n
Fai_Ryy
oozey mess
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Indonesia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Lithuania
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Lithuania
seen from United States
seen from Oman
seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from China
@mispercepticn-blog
They couldâve at least thrown the same color as the wall and saved some time cleaning up â now they just have to paint over everything. [Her nose scrunches again; Chloe knows theyâre barely out of earshot of the group and they probably heard the whole thing, but sometimes her thoughts just slip out like that.] Yeah.
âŠI mean, I guess so. I draw. And paint. Theyâre usually good.
Eh, itâs fine. At least itâll be fun.
Hey, you should join us. I mean, if you want to.
Um. Sure. Okay.
[She stuffs her hands in her pockets and rises up on her tiptoes, waiting.] That guyâs proportions are off, by the way. I mean, even if the wall wasnât messed up and you probably have to paint over it.
[He gives her a polite smile, and nods towards the building. Heâs already started walking when he hears her comment.] Wha -- oh, yeah, I figured as much. I mean, Iâm no artist, so itâs not my place to make those kinds of judgments, but Iâm pretty sure thatâs why they started tossing paint. It was already messed up, anyway, so.
You an artist?
[She jumps back, but it doesnât keep the paint from hitting her. Pulling off her beanie, Chloe scrunches her nose at it and flips it inside out before stuffing it in her jacket pocket. The blonde scrubs at the bridge of her nose with a knuckle, but that just leaves a smudge running across it instead of wiping it away.]
âŠIâm okay.
Nah, you, uh... you still got a little something.
You, uh, want to come with me? I can find you some wipes, help you get that off? And find some way to get it out of your beanie... if thatâs possible.
[Heâs not exactly the poster boy for volunteer work -- heaven knows he rarely does it, and who would want to do it on the week of Christmas? But volunteering now means he gets to spend less time at home, and thatâs really all he needs. Theyâre painting a mural -- kind of -- and someone has the wise idea to start throwing paint. Heâs trying very hard to curve this perfectly -- heâs not an artist, like, at all -- when he gets paints to the face.] Dude!
[He looks behind him, and sees the blonde girl walking by.] Shit. Iâm so sorry, did he get that on you?
LIKE TOY SOLDIERS. | a percy lawrence playlist
01. disconnected -- trapt âł Itâs too hard to just move on. Itâs easier said than done.
02. titanium -- david guetta âł Iâm bullet proof, nothing to lose. Fire away, fire away...
03. migraine -- twenty-one pilots âł Am I the only one I know, waging wars behind my face and above my throat? Shadows will scream that Iâm alone.
04. like toy soldiers -- eminem âł Iâm supposed to be the soldier who never blows his composure, even though I hold the weight of the whole world on my shoulders.
05. Â born to die -- lana del rey ( + lux zhang & scarlett emerson ) âł You and I, we were born to die..
A Lesson in Brutality || Percy & Lux ( ft. Scarlett )
Lux hummed a single note and paused her chopsticks in midair, giving her brother a dry chuckle. Her eyebrows raised, subtle yet deliberate, and her index shifted slightly along the edge of the utensil as if it were a weapon. âCareful, now. I like my furniture and I spent good money on it, but if I have to get it bloody, I will.â It was simplicity of her tone that held the threat; scraps of their motherâs influence, no doubt. She took a moment to put herself at ease â by Lux standards, at least. âYouâre in high school. Suck it up, at least you can retake yours,â she pointed out.
She leaned against the counter, offering her attention to Scarlett as the latter updated her. Luxâs brow lightly furrowed at the news, but the majority of her reaction consisted of a half-second twitch of her lips that may have been a grimace, and a very concise, ââŠSucks.â And that was it. No one ever gave her points for being the most relatable person, and as far as she was concerned, vengeance attempts and the like were all part of the job. Besides, Scarlett had said âalmostâ, which meant the girl wasnât in fact dead. There went the extent of her concern. At the second pat of the redheadâs tale, Luxâs lips faintly pressed together, but by the end sheâd simply shrugged and prodded at the noodles in her bowl. âSecond partâs all that matters.â
A bored glance was aimed at Percy. âMore fun than you staring at me like that.â
âItâs nice furniture,â Percy commented. It wasnât like he wasnât used to being threatened. It was a pretty common occurrence in their family. Violence was something that came with breakfast, lunch, dinner, and everything in between. It was probably a cause for concern if a day went by where Percy wasnât being threatened with bodily harm. And while he didnât doubt Lux to make good on her promise, he was more amused by it than frightened. âAnd suck it up. We all have to make sacrifices.â
Scarlett shrugged, seemingly unfazed by the recent events in her life. âIt comes with the territory,â she said by way of dismissal. Percy could understand that. Being a hunter didnât mean you couldnât be hunted, too. And while he wasnât too sure about the dynamics of Scarâs family, nor did he intend to study up on her -- looking into peopleâs lives was more Luxâs deal than his -- but he knew how hunters operated. They all knew the risk of going out and hunting. Someone was bound to get killed. Her sister had been one of the lucky ones.
Percy shrugged. âAlright.â He straightened up on the couch, planting his feet on the floor. He flipped his knife in the air, catching it by the handle without looking. âHumor me. How do I kill you?â
A Lesson in Brutality || Percy & Lux ( ft. Scarlett )
She shrugged. It wasnât her problem if Percy was too stubborn to tend to his own injuries. He was the one whoâd be bearing the results in the morning, the one who still needed to work on his compartmentalization skills; he may have been able to avoid showing it, but not feeling it. Lux, on the other hand, had a tendency to separate herself from her body when in pain. When it mattered. Even now, the ache simply hummed on in the background, easily ignored. âAs concerning and justified as âmy little brother whom none of you were supposed to know existed stabbed me in the back, but donât worry, it was just for shits and giggles!â would be, college is both lenient and strict as fuck,â Lux drawled out. âI have my School & Society midterm Thursday morning and Forensics midterm Friday, and I donât plan on missing them. God knows your mother wonât be going out of her way to get me an extension.â
One leg crossed itself over the other. Lux craned her neck to look at Scarlett. âHowâre things going with you?â she asked nonchalantly, actually curious. In the supernatural sense, at least, but she doesnât say that much. The high school crowd tended to fade out of her scope of interest; her attention was largely centered on the BHU portion of the McCall pack, and barely that. As for small talkâŠeven the people she liked would be hard pressed to maintain a casual conversation with her.
A huff slipped past her lips at the sight of Percy analyzing her, debating the merits of telling him to shove it. (Is it bad that sheâs probably the least toxic familial influence he has? Probably.) She slid down from the counter and yanked the microwave door open before it had the chance to go off, grabbing the bowl and carrying it away. Taking a second to dump the flavoring in, she snatched up a pair of chopsticks to mix it all, peering up at him the entire time. âYou could just ask me how to kill me,â she joked, with half her mouth full.
âI like to think that youâre the one no one is supposed to know exists,â Percy pointed out. It was a low blow -- a few shades past insensitive -- but it wasnât as if their family was known for their kindness. Even if he and Lux were a bit nicer than most of their relatives -- which was really saying something -- they still werenât likely to pull any punches. Physically or verbally. âAnd donât that too personally. She wouldnât give me any extensions either, if I needed them.â Not that he ever did. His attendance record was far from perfect, but he still turned in everything when he was supposed to. His mother mightâve had some sway when it came to the school board, but she wouldnât have used it for them.
Scar hummed in acknowledgement to Luxâs question, digging through her bag. She pulled out two granola bars, tossing one to Percy and keeping one for herself, before setting the bag back down on the ground. She shrugged, tearing open the wrapper. âMy foster sister almost died because some witches tracked her down, and my psychotic family scared her off, and apparently stepped on a few toes while doing so. Oh, and I guess Iâm supposed to be retired.â She lifted her hands in a who knew? gesture. âWhich reminds me, Allison Argent knows we went hunting. She doesnât know I went with you. But she knows that I went, and took a few lives in the process. I kept your name and your family out of it.â
Percy had to give it to Scar. The whole foster sister situation seemed pretty shitty, but she didnât seem all that distressed. He supposed she had been working out her aggression with them, which made sense. At least sh wasnât breaking down into tears or anything. âAre the witches dead?â He inquired, though he figured they were. If Scar got her hands on them, they certainly wouldnât have made it out alive.
âThey are, but not by my hands,â Scar answered. âSis is a werewolf.â
Of course. Deciding not to comment on that, he smirked in response to Luxâs question. âBut whereâs the fun in that?â
A Lesson in Brutality || Percy & Lux ( ft. Scarlett )
Without thinking the action through, Percy executed a scissor kick, bringing his sister to the ground, before getting up himself. It was slower than it shouldâve been. His mother wouldâve put him through hell for a reaction that slow. Even around Lux, he shouldâve never let his guard down. âReally, I shouldâve seen that one coming,â he muttered. Of course the note was for him. He looked over at Scarlett with a glare. âYou couldnât have told me the note was for me at first?â
The redhead shrugged, her eyes following Lux around the apartment. âI spoke before I read the note. Sue me.â She put the note down, and took her hair out of the ponytail, shaking it out for a moment. It probably got hot with all of that hair, and, to her credit, sheâd been taking those hits like a champ. Placing her hair tie between her teeth, she pulled her slightly damp hair back into a firm hold, before securing it with the tie. âIâd love a note, by the way. Itâs hard to move now, I canât imagine trying to do anything tomorrow.â
Percy couldnât argue there. Keeping an eye on his sister to make sure she didnât try anything else, he used the towel to wipe the blood from his arm, and the sweat from his face. He lifted his shirt, flapping it up and down as a makeshift fan, vaguely aware of Scarlettâs eyes on him. It was decency, more than anything else, that kept him for taking his shirt off then and there. In a room with two ladies â essentially Black Widow and the Calvary â it was only common courtesy to stay relatively clothed, even if he was overheating.Â
âYou leave yourself wide open,â Scarlett commented. Her tone was nonchalant and casual, but her voice was almost robotic. There was something in her eyes thatâd shifted. He knew that look. It was the look he saw in the mirror whenever he quoted his mother, or uncle, or anyone else whoâd taken part in his training. âEvery time you move, you leave another part of you wide open.â She nodded towards Lux. âShe couldâve killed you by now â wouldâve, I guess, if you werenât her brother. And I couldâve kill you, if I could probably move my arms.â She took another drink from her water bottle, her eyes moving between the two siblings.
Sheâd noticed.
Of course she had. Anyone who spent more than a few minutes training with the both of them wouldâve picked up on it. They were trained in completely different ways. Lux was raised to be invincible, and he was raised to be the person he never could be. (Someone, he thought begrudgingly, who heâd grown to hate. But years of living in someoneâs shadow â dead or alive â could do that to you.) He was never meant to be a hunter. By now, Scarlett had realized that. (When, he wondered, would his own mother realize that?) Lowering the bottle from her lips, Scarlettâs head tilted slightly, and she gave him a smile that wouldâve been cold, if not for the lack of emotion there. âYou should turn around, now.â
Her chin tipped into a slight nod at Scarlettâs request once sheâd gotten to her feet. Getting them out of school was the least of her concerns. By now, her hair had frizzed out into a thick, unruly mess, shirt clinging to her skin where the blood and sweat adhered it. Itâs that among other things that proved her current company was granted something as close to trust as she could give; Lux, in her prime, could make a blood-spattered face look nothing less than immaculate and intentional. It was expected.
An eyebrow raised as her little brother turned to look at her. Brown eyes coasted over the bruise blossoming on the side of Percyâs jaw, passive as ever. Theyâd received the same amount of maternal affectionâthat being hardly anyâbut there had always been something different in the way sheâd handled him, not as demanding, and not just because heâd been vulnerable. He could carry their legacy without being suffocated by it. Less a hunter, true, but more her child, and therein lied the difference. It had once confused Lux; nothing to be resentful over, though, not when it had been a silent reality for most of her life.
Shaking her head, Lux made her way to the kitchen, grabbing a pack of ramen and a bowl from an overhead cabinet. One crunch, then another, then another, as she crushed the noodles into increasingly small pieces before splitting the plastic open with a knife and dumping the contents out. She plucked the foil packet off of the pile and left it on the counter, held the bowl under a running tap, and slid it into the microwave. After setting the timer, she grabbed something from the freezer. Catching the ice pack repeatedly like some kind of baseball, Lux waited until sheâd perched on the counter to let it drop and punt it over to him.
âPut some ice on that,â the older girl muttered, with a small, protesting grunt as she leaned back.
There was no warning in Scarlettâs voice. It took Percy one second -- a second in which heâd turned around, blade clenched tightly in preparation -- to realize that. She wasnât warning him, saying that Lux was about to attack. It took him another second -- in which he loosened his grip on his knife, forcing himself to relax -- to recognize her words for what they were. A lesson. She wasnât saying, You should turn around, because your sister is about to attack you. It was more along the lines of, You should turn around because your sister could attack you. She was saying, You should never turn your back on someone you donât trust not to take advantage of it. She was saying, If you turn your back on someone with Luxâs skill, youâll end up with a knife in it. Or worse.
And maybe, just maybe, some part of her was saying, Donât trust anyone. Even if she is your sister.
Percy finally ripped his eyes away from Lux, annoyance spiking momentarily as she took in the bruise on his face. He wasnât humiliated by the fact that sheâd gotten the best of him before he even realized what was happening. It was only within her character to do so, and within his for him to not have seen it coming. Even if he were a better hunter, someone who could see ten steps ahead of his opponent, it wouldnât quite work that way with Lux. Even his mother -- whoâd made Lux into the finely tuned machine that she was... used to be -- wouldâve been caught off guard by that. Maybe her reaction time wouldâve been better, but she still wouldâve fallen victim to one of Luxâs attacks. When someone is groomed to absolute perfection, there isnât much that can be done to eradicate that. No, he wasnât humiliated. He was just sick of always being in this position.
(Ten years old, with a gun in his hand, and three people surrounding him. Was he supposed to use his gun? Were these even his motherâs people? If they were, would she be mad that he did? Or would she be angrier that he didnât? The gun was loaded. He knew that because heâd been the one to do it. If he shot and actually killed someone, what would the fall out be? Would it be worth it? Before he could make that decision, all three assailants lunged at him. And no amount of kicking, dodging and screaming could save poor little Percy from the beating he received before his uncle stepped in. Heâd been taken home and pulled out of school for the week. Not to rest; to train more. âThis can never happen again,â his mother had said in that no nonsense tone, with that same cold look that she wore so well.
Thinking back on it, he never learned if those guys were from the family, or not. He sure as hell never saw them again.)
He caught the ice pack in his hands, but didnât put it to his face. It wasnât pride. It wasnât like that at all. Heâd learned a long time ago not to let things like pride, or morality, or emotion run the show for him. (It was pride, he remembered, that had gotten Lilianna killed. Or was it Lupe? Maybe Brenna. Thea? He couldnât put names and faces to every family member that had let their pride kill them. There were simply too many.) But heâd been trained to take the pain. Years and years of learning how to stay quiet and blank under extreme pain, even bordering on torture -- âYou think monsters donât know how to drag the pain out? You think itâs a simple slash and goodbye?â -- kept him from providing simple aid to a blossoming bruise.
Tossing the ice pack up and down the way Lux had done, he wandered over to her couch, picking up his discarded knives on the way, and sprawled himself down on it. âAre you staying out of school for the week,â he inquired, though he highly doubted it. He would take a bit of a beating before this night was over. Heâd be lucky if he landed a damn blow on Lux. As he watched his sister, he twirled his throwing knives around his fingers. He silently ran down a mental checklist of weaknesses and openings he could use, nearby weapons that could be used for or against him, and all of the ways he knew his sister to fight. He had no chance of ever quite beating her, but he sure wasnât going down without a fight, either.
A Lesson in Brutality || Percy & Lux ( ft. Scarlett )
âThat was your note, genius. Youâll be too wrecked to deliver it, so I gave it to someone who can,â she pointed out matter-of-factly. Without letting him get a word in edgewise, a hand darts up to close around the arm at her throat and yank it â and him â forward. She let out a small, involuntary gasp as she forced his knife to sink into her own back, with a pained chuckle that said, if youâre going to start something, donât bluff. Her free right arm wrapped around the back of his neck, using the leverage as she ducked down to flip Percy over her shoulder. The end result was him on the floor, with her shirt split open from the back: a messy, scarlet-seeped cross of given and self-inflicted wounds. âYouâll be crashing here for the week. â-And give me my damn knife back.â She claims the fallen blade off of the floor and throws a towel from the nearest couch at his face.
(Now, he looks like her. It gives Lux even fewer qualms about causing him bodily harm, but thatâs neither here nor there. She glances at her thigh; if she can get the blood out, the rip doesnât look half bad.)
Her eyes landed on Scarlett next. âItâs up to you whether you stick it out for the week. I know enough of your motherâs writing to come up with something believable.â Grabbing a tank top from the arm of the couch, Lux switched shirts in a matter of seconds, turning back to her brother just as she rolled down the sides of the fabric.
Without thinking the action through, Percy executed a scissor kick, bringing his sister to the ground, before getting up himself. It was slower than it shouldâve been. His mother wouldâve put him through hell for a reaction that slow. Even around Lux, he shouldâve never let his guard down. âReally, I shouldâve seen that one coming,â he muttered. Of course the note was for him. He looked over at Scarlett with a glare. âYou couldnât have told me the note was for me at first?â
The redhead shrugged, her eyes following Lux around the apartment. âI spoke before I read the note. Sue me.â She put the note down, and took her hair out of the ponytail, shaking it out for a moment. It probably got hot with all of that hair, and, to her credit, sheâd been taking those hits like a champ. Placing her hair tie between her teeth, she pulled her slightly damp hair back into a firm hold, before securing it with the tie. âIâd love a note, by the way. Itâs hard to move now, I canât imagine trying to do anything tomorrow.â
Percy couldnât argue there. Keeping an eye on his sister to make sure she didnât try anything else, he used the towel to wipe the blood from his arm, and the sweat from his face. He lifted his shirt, flapping it up and down as a makeshift fan, vaguely aware of Scarlettâs eyes on him. It was decency, more than anything else, that kept him for taking his shirt off then and there. In a room with two ladies -- essentially Black Widow and the Calvary -- it was only common courtesy to stay relatively clothed, even if he was overheating.Â
âYou leave yourself wide open,â Scarlett commented. Her tone was nonchalant and casual, but her voice was almost robotic. There was something in her eyes thatâd shifted. He knew that look. It was the look he saw in the mirror whenever he quoted his mother, or uncle, or anyone else whoâd taken part in his training. âEvery time you move, you leave another part of you wide open.â She nodded towards Lux. âShe couldâve killed you by now -- wouldâve, I guess, if you werenât her brother. And I couldâve kill you, if I could probably move my arms.â She took another drink from her water bottle, her eyes moving between the two siblings.
Sheâd noticed.
Of course she had. Anyone who spent more than a few minutes training with the both of them wouldâve picked up on it. They were trained in completely different ways. Lux was raised to be invincible, and he was raised to be the person he never could be. (Someone, he thought begrudgingly, who heâd grown to hate. But years of living in someoneâs shadow -- dead or alive -- could do that to you.) He was never meant to be a hunter. By now, Scarlett had realized that. (When, he wondered, would his own mother realize that?) Lowering the bottle from her lips, Scarlettâs head tilted slightly, and she gave him a smile that wouldâve been cold, if not for the lack of emotion there. âYou should turn around, now.â
A Lesson in Brutality || Percy & Lux ( ft. Scarlett )
With the exception of the hardwood floors and the blackout curtains (that were currently drawn, for good reason), for the most part, the place was practically bleached white. Painstakingly organized, minimalist at best, and an oddly accurate representation of the girlâs mind. Studio flat, downtown; just a place for her to come back to during the holidays, and nothing more.
It wasnât like sheâd be going back to San Francisco.
Lux had done them the favor of shoving all of the living room furniture towards the walls in advance, boredly hurling knives into a well-abused corkboard across the room until her brother and Scarlett had shown up. She wasnât about to ruin the paint job, after all. And once they had arrived, wellâŠit wouldnât be a far reach to assume that by now, they probably wished they hadnât.
(The feeling is almost like having her status back again. Not having to cross a county or state border just to take up with hunters whoâd never put a face to the name Leila Lawrence. The two words bitter whenever they crawl up on her tongue, in her thoughts, but just for a second; then, like all things, turn to ash and then nothing at all.)
In his moment of distraction paying attention to the redhead, Lux slipped out a knife from the side of her boot and hurls it at him. It sliced through the air, and his bicep, tooâcutting a neat crimson slash across the side of it before sticking itself into the wall behind them. As if that werenât enough, she reached his level an instant later, fist colliding with his jawbone so violently that sheâd felt one of her own knuckles pop.
Not bothering to see when, or if, Percy managed to get to his feet, Lux walked over to the adjoining kitchen and swiped something off of the counter. Her eyes scanned over the note, despite the fact that it was undoubtedly a perfect replica of their motherâs handwriting. âYouâre going to a funeral,â she announced dryly, passing the paper over to Scarlett instead before subtly massaging out her injured hand. âFeel free to pick any of the dozens of dead relatives we have.â There was no way that the high school faculty would bother to ask for an obituary. Her eyes held no remorse for what sheâd just done; they barely held anything.
Itâs nothing personal, even when it was.
Percy spent his entire life having knives hurtled at him. From the time he was six years old, being snatched out his bed by nameless, faceless relatives his mother had employed to teach him the ropes, to now, in his sisterâs apartment with two near strangers. Before he even knew for sure what it was his family did -- what it was that made everyone fear his mother, and eye his sister with such caution, he felt like the odd one out for trusting her so damn easily -- he had been trained to dodge attacks from knives, and arrows, and fists, and feet, claws and fangs. And Percy -- no, he wasnât the best at those things. He would never be on Luxâs level. He would never even come close. Maybe heâd never be on Scarlettâs level, either. But what heâd said to Lux in those messages had rang true: there was a reason he was still alive.
Heâd lifted his own knife in time to block the knife she threw at him. Fast enough to not end up with a knife in his chest, but slow enough that it still sliced his arm. Before he could even recover from that, sheâd dealt a strong punch to his jaw, sending him stumbling back, only barely managing to stay on his feet. Scarlettâs wolf whistle mingled with the ringing in his ears, and he moved his jaw, hoping to at least ease some of the pain.
(âToo slow,â his mother scolded, a sneer on her face. Blood ran down his arms, his shoulder out of place. Dislocated; hardly the worst of his injuries. âFor every second that you waste recovering, your opponent is gearing up to attack. One second can kill you, Percy. Thatâs all it takes. And then weâre lowering you into the ground next to Xander.â)
âWill the funeral be Percyâs,â Scar asked nonchalantly, ignoring the finger Percy had given her as her eyes scanning over the letter. While most people would probably be concerned at Lux having thrown a knife at her little brother, but Scar had made it clear that she was already used to Luxâs no holds barred attitude. The redheadâs eyebrows lifted briefly. âNice forgery.â
âBite me, Emerson,â Percy muttered, tossing his own knife towards Lux. It grazed the side of her thigh, cutting just deep enough to draw blood. In that same moment, he slipped behind her, pressing another knife -- this one, having been pulled from the holster around his waist -- to her throat, and another one -- from her person -- to her back. It dug deep enough to penetrate the skin, tearing the cloth of her shirt. âWhatâs my excuse for getting out of school?â He slashed across her back -- not against her throat; he was all for giving it his all, but he wasnât actually about to kill her -- and stepped back, his guard already up. His strength could only hold her back for so long, and it was only a matter of nanoseconds before she broke free anyway. âIf you plan on beating me half to death, can I get a forged note, too?â
A Lesson in Brutality || Percy & Lux ( ft. Scarlett )
Percy winced, feeling his lips kick into a smile as Scar, once again, found herself on her back. It wasnât the first time itâd happened, and it probably wouldnât the last, either. He had to hand it to the redhead, though. It wasnât easy taking the kind of abuse that Lux Zhang -- as she went by, now; it was a cool name, he guessed -- was dishing out. (He would know.) But Scar had been sparring against Lux for some time now, and got up every time. It was more than Perce could say for most people who went up against his sister.
(Sister. Was that still what she was? Did she think of him as her brother? Even after all that had transpired within their family? Even after all of the times heâd been forced to pretend she was nothing but a distant memory, a girl whoâd died the same night as her partner? Was she still his sister? If not, then what was this? What was she?)
Sympathizing with the younger girl, Percy walked over, throwing a glance at Lux, and held out a hand to pull her up. Taking the offered hand, she sprang back up, and Percy gave her a smile and shrug, as if to say, âYeah, she does that. Itâs terrible, I know.â Scar responded with a grin of her own, and laughed quietly. Though Percy had been surprised to know that his sister trusted someone enough to work with them -- whether or not they officially called each other partners -- he and Scarlett had hit it off surprisingly well. Once sheâd dropped the kind, bubbly persona, it had been easy to get along with her. Her personality was cool enough, and she didnât ask about the strained relationship between the two Lawrence children.
Fighting her had been an experience, as well. There werenât many people who fought the way she did; it was easy to see that when she fought, that was exactly where her mind was. She didnât seem to think about anything at all, and she executed every movement perfectly, adjusting to quick changes without missing a beat. Percy had beaten her, by pure strength alone. She was the better fighter, no doubt, but her size worked against her. It had been a source of frustration for her, but also a good lesson. She had to learn how to use her size to her advantage, the same way Percy had, all of those years ago.
(Because he was the underdog, back then. He was always the underdog. No matter how much he worked, or how strong he got, he would be the weakest link. Weakest in the room, he mused, twirling the throwing knife around his finger, weakest in the family.)
âIâm going to sit down for a minute,â Scar announced, rolling her shoulder. She threw Lux a look that was probably wouldâve come off as nasty, if not for the smile making its way onto her face. âI think you broke me.â
Percy almost laughed at that, shaking his head as the sophomore slipped past him towards her water bottle. Theyâd been at this for a while now. The three of them in Luxâs apartment, rotating partners every so often, Percy filling the space when Lux needed a break, or Lux when Scar needed one, or some other variation of that. He and Lux had sparred briefly earlier, but theyâd yet to go full out. If he was being quite honest, he was kind of scared to. If his sister ever went full out, he and Scar would probably be out of school for the better part of the week.
Yeah. Iâm almost done though!
Seriously? Weird how Iâve never seen you before.
Thatâs awesome, then!
I donât really walk around town much. And I try not to come up to the college campus that much.
Oh no, it totally is, except I need the credits to get my butt in the police academy. So yâknow, I have to even if I hate schools in general.
I take it youâre still in high school? You new in town?
Ah. Yeah, I get what you mean.
Yes, and kind of. Iâve been here for a few months.
Of course, youâre welcome buddy.
Uh⊠College is college? I mean Iâm probably the worst person to ask that, cause Iâm only here because I have to.
You have to? I thought college was one of those âyou have a choice hereâ kind of things.
[She realises too late that sheâs not supposed to know about that, so sheâs incredibly grateful that he doesnât pick up on it.] Oh, gotcha. Not sure I agree with the wording, but I know what you mean.
You okay, though?
Yeah, Iâll be fine. Thanks.
Howâs, uh, college?
[She snorts amusedly.] Oh no, I know.
Oh. Sorry. [She smiles sheepishly as she takes his hand, shaking it lightly. Her brows furrow and she looks down at their hands before looking back at him, head tilting to the side slightly. She canât help but ask;] Huh. Why are you angry?
[His eyebrows lift slightly in surprise, and he wonders how she knows heâs angry, before remembering that he probably looks less than happy.] Ah, you know. Parents. Canât live with âem, canât live without âem.
Of course, I canât let you get lost in here. The horror.
Iâm Daria, nice to meet you.
[He grins at her.]Â Youâd be surprised at how many people here just wouldnât care if you get lost.
[Though heâll later blame it on his formal teaching, and the many business-like settings heâs found himself in, he finds himself holding his hand out for a handshake.]
