c. from up in the eaves comes a large boom! HERMES is trying to break out via the roof. why does this cage only have one window and no door? he screams for help, only to have HECATE throw a dusty candelabra at his head. NYX laughs. all the ruckus finally wakes up HYPNOS, who informs them that this is an attic, and the only way out is down. [ x ]
hermes isn’t surprised when he wakes in a place he doesn’t recognize. he blinks, limbs heavy and head throbbing, two pains he is surprised by, and when he attempts to flutter up from the floor to search and stretch the aches away, there’s … nothing. not a flicker of movement, not a rustle of his beloved winged sandals. his eyes widen where he stares up at the ceiling, panic sharp on his tongue as he scrambles upright, back thumping hard against the wall where he stumbles. hermes bolts over to the window and tugs but the wood scrapes against his nails like it’s nothing, refusing to give when he yanks harder. and that’s … odd. is this pan’s doings? apollo?
he scowls. under different circumstances, hermes would hatch a plan for retaliation, but in the moment he’s too peeved and uncomfortable without his sandals, and no matter how hard he pulls the window won’t give and it’s so dark and so, it’s so — hermes screeches, stomps his foot against the floor because he’s already had enough of this charade and he wants his powers back NOW. ❝is this — Is this a cage?❞ he hisses to no one in particular, abashed at the idea of being locked away like some — some rascal. which he certainly is not. he deserves far, far, better treatment than this. ❝hey, hey! let me out!❞ hermes yanks at a panel, splinters it apart so light bursts through and dust kicks up to swirl, but he can’t even take in a breath before something knocks and he jerks in surprise, shies against the wall with an eloquent ❝ow!❞ // @mxgicks
hecate cackles, joining the laughter of nyx with a grin. the goddess picks up another item, a heavy tome with golden pages, and looks to aim it at the boy before seeing his innocent little face. she sulks into herself; tipping her head and looking to him with bold eyes.
“oh, my dear,” she puts her hand to her heart. “i apologise. you see, i do not wake well, i smell odd magic in the air and you seem to have brought me to a foreign place. i wished to see if you were impervious to your own noise. it appears not.”
she flips open the book instead of throwing it and runs a finger down some paragraphs. she does not recognise the language, and closes it before turning to the mumbles coming from the far corner. “what do you say there? come now, speak up.” / @somnolxnt·
