#invocation.

[patroklxs]

@achillitatos

          [ TEXT : ANDY ] Did you say something weird to Scott when I went to clock in?

[patroklxs]

@xakhilleus

   The gym is under new management, apparently, because the sign has changed.  ACHILLIFTING.  What a name.  You like a good pun, Patroclus, but this doesn’t qualify for the descriptor ‘good,’ and anyway, it’s a little bit on the nose.

   “Ugh.”

   He has the good manners to mostly clear the look from his face before he walks in, but can’t quite kill the despair in his eyes.  At least the girl behind the counter is the same.  “So whose idea was that name?”

[patroklxs]

@kiyote didn’t like the sc but wanted some short nonsense

   “Sorry I’m late.  We were attacked with a lamp.”

[patroklxs]

@whinedarksea

   Patroclus works the cork out of half a bottle of red wine, takes a pull, and hands it over.  Glasses are for the weak and they won’t need them where they’re going.  The opening credits shimmer onto the screen.

   He hates this movie.

   “I’m already regretting not starting this with a tequila shot.”

[patroklxs]

@whinedarksea

   It’s a big city, but everyone has their corners, and sooner or later you begin to recognize the other people who frequent yours.  In this case, Patroclus mostly recognizes the dog that sits patiently outside every time the scruffy-looking man comes in for a coffee.

   “I think your friend would like a drink as well.”

[patroklxs]

@darcholme

   “It’s hard to tell from your face which of us had the better week.”

   And therefore, who should buy the first round, not that it doesn’t probably roughly even out over time.  

   “Have you ever considered poker?”

[patroklxs]

@onepilogues

   The dogs are scattered through their part of the camp, lying panting on the sands now that it’s begun to get dark and the men have mostly stopped milling around.  Patroclus, on the other hand, has duties after the fighting is over, and the bodies have been dragged from the battlefields already; he kneels by the firepit, stirring the flames to life, but still recognizes the face in the half-light through the brightness of it, and raises a hand in greeting.

   “I wouldn’t go in.  He’s looking for a fight.”  Ordinarily, Patroclus would give it to him, but he’s still got a gash across the bicep of his sword arm from earlier in the week that Achilles refuses to exacerbate.  “You would think the war would spoil him for that.”