#seabraind

[shesnows]

@seabraind said: "i yelled at you because i care about you." / beautiful creatures prompts

is that supposed to make her feel better? either way, it's achieved the very opposite in that it makes her feel worse. she can feel her arms prickle with goose bumps and already, she's taking a subconscious step away from them to create more distance. why did he have to offer justification? why couldn't he have left it as just good old-fashioned yelling? dark lashes sweep downwards as she emphatically averts her gaze and a mottled crimson flush briefly glazes across her ivory complexion. what exactly is she supposed to say? thanks for caring? how is she supposed to feel? what does she feel?

her feelings towards percy jackson have never been straightforward and they seem to become more muddled and mystifying with every conversation that passes between them. he gets under her skin and yet...and yet, there is a certain exhilaration to be found in the banter lobbed back and forth between them. he isn't someone who shies away from her coldness, she'll give him that much.

he's made this personal but she will do what she does best: make things impersonal. create distance.

❝ usually yelling is a lot more menacing when you don't try to explain it away afterwards. kinda defeats the purpose.❞ she deflects with a flippant shrug of the shoulders. ❝ i know you have one of those bleeding hearts that can't help but care for all the wayward souls but i'm all set on that front! ❞ she wishes to remain just another name, just another face (or does she?). they will mean nothing to one another. that is how it will be. two people who happen to have not-so-human parents. two people who happen to shop at the same grocery store and occasionally have decent conversations. that's it.

[bringthunder]

PERCY ( @seabraind ) said, nothing ever changes here. i'd rather hear about you. here / accepting

EVERYBODY  MAKES  MISTAKES.

maybe  this  is  just  jackson’s  latest  one.  he  can’t  blame  the  guy;  sooner  or  later,  everybody  gets  curious.  the  same  questions  get  asked  over  and  over  again,  and  verso  —  forcefully  ignorant  to  their  best  efforts  to  get  to  know  him  —  answers  every  single  one  with  sass  and  snark  aplenty.  if  they  want  to  know  him,  they  can  trudge  their  asses  to  tartarus  and  ask  typhon  what  the  son  of  zeus  favors and loathes ( that bastard overheard him plenty in the army, verso knows it ).  better  yet,  they  can  dig  up  kronos  and  ask  him  what  the  bastard  of  the  hour  is  like  behind  closed  doors.

unfortunately,  this  is  perseus  middle-name  jackson.  savior  of  olympus,  poseidon's wonder,  hero  extraordinaire  and  bringer  of  light  wherever  he  dares  to  tread.  this  is  the  same  guy that  held  up  the  world  and,  while  verso  once  found  himself  engulfed  by  the  same  shirt  which  killed  heracles  and  lived  to  tell  the  tale  about  it,  he  never  held  up  the  sky.  he  certainly  never  got  one  up  on  zeus.  his cousin,  then,  is  owed  a  modicum  of  respect  that  most  other  demigods  would  have  to  die  to  earn.

that,  and  verso  is  fairly  certain  that  jackson  will  be  annoying  for  the  rest  of  the  day  if  he  doesn’t  get  whatever  it  is  he’s  after.  

the  eldest  of  zeus  crosses  his  arms,  cocks  his  head  to  the  side,  and  rolls  his  words  around  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue  before  speaking.

❝  how  wonderfully  unspecific.  ❞  verso  grumbles,  leaning  his  weight  back  against  his  perch  for  the  evening  (  one  of  the  many  trees  surrounding  camp;  he  would  sooner  die  than  go  to  his  father’s  cabin  ).  ❝  tell  you  what.  as  a  gesture  of  good  faith,  you  get  one  question,  and  i’ll  answer  it  honestly.  and  we’ll  go  from  there.  ❞

why  do  i  feel  like  i’m  gonna  regret  this  ??

[shesnows]

one of the few lessons that all demigods seem to learn, at one time or another, for better or for worse, is that you can never outrun the legacy of your parents. no matter how far you might try to run, the world beyond the mist is always nipping at your heels. sometimes its an errant monster trying to ruin your morning run routine or sometimes its an unwelcome demigod face that breezes past you on the subway. sometimes the unpleasant reminder of the divine world shows up at a small corner grocery store on the corner of lafayette and east 4th street. typical. it's almost like a middle finger from khione herself. as if khione actually remembered she had a daughter!

that they've seen each other is obvious given it's impossible to do otherwise in the store's crowded aisles and to turn on her heel and flee into another section would be like admitting defeat. why should she be made to feel awkward when she sees this quaint little store and its surroundings, a stone's throw from her apartment, as her turf? ❝ jackson. ❞ the cool greeting is made icier by the fact that even as she speaks, her gaze returns to comparing two different boxes of granola bars. ❝ didn't know the pride of olympus deigns to do his own grocery shopping.❞

fortunately, there's few other costumers around to eavesdrop upon her frigid greeting but even if there were, it's unlikely she would care. they were just words, after all, and mortals were always more than happy to make their own harmless assumptions. ❝ surprised you actually have time to run errands like the rest of us mere demigods. i would have thought you'd be off on some new heroic side quest or something. ❞

/ starter for @seabraind

[bringthunder]

PERCY ( @seabraind ) ”i  don’t  play  fair,  remember?” / here, accepting

𝐇𝐄’𝐒  𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀  𝐃𝐎  𝐈𝐓  𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄.  he’s  gonna  kill  percy  jackson.  he’s  going  to  wrap  his  hands  around  that  little  bastard’s  throat  and  wring  it  out  like  a  soaking  towel;  he’s  going  to  plunge  his  xiphos  through  his  ribs  like  a  spear  through  a  lion’s  cage,  and  he  is  going  to  KILL  the  son  of  poseidon.  he’s  going  to  make  it  violent.  they’ll  be  finding  pieces  of  him  in  the  lake  for  weeks.  his  own  father  won’t  know  how  to  make  heads  or  tails  of  the  carnage  left  behind  in  the  betrayer’s  wake.

a  gust  kicks  up  around  verso  with  the  angry  stomping  of  his  right  foot  against  the  ground.  the  wind  spirals  upwards,  ripping  water  out  from  the  seams  of  his  shirt  and  coat  and  pants  like  the  world’s  angriest  windtunnel.  the  air  howls  around  him  as  if  to  spite  jackson,  then  quiets  and  stills  itself  into  an  uncanny  deadness.  

he  digs  his  heels  into  the  shore  of  zephyrus’  creek.  his  grip  on  his  xiphos  tightens,  lightning  crackles  around  his  knuckles,  and  verso  has  to  remind  himself:  this  isn’t  a  serious  fight.  this  is  a  spar.  this  is  a  nice  getaway  from  the  training  arena,  because  the  two  of  them  will  inevitably  attract  an  audience  and  verso  does  NOT  want  the  campers  to  witness  two  of  the  big  three  going  at  each  other  like  this.  

(something  something  the  YOU’RE  SETTING  A  BAD  EXAMPLE  speech  is  one  he  got  from  chiron  back  in  the  goddamn  forties  and  he  doesn’t  care  for  a  trip  down  memory  lane  —  he  doubts  the  old  horse  has  changed  his  wording  on  it  even  a  little,  and  why  would  he  HAVE  to?  fatherly  shame  is  a  hell  of  a  deterrent).  

❝  oh,  i’m  gonna  MAUL  you  for  that  one.  ❞   declares  the  son  of  zeus  with  a  certain  delighted  finality  in  his  voice.  with  a  laugh  that  sounds  wholly  relearned  and  more  monstrous  than  verso  cares  to  admit,  he  sends  one  blade  towards  percy  like  a  JAVELIN.  

reckless,  wild,  FUN  —  how  long  has  it  been  since  he’s  actually  gotten  to  fight  something  that  doesn’t  die  after  only  a  few  swings  ??  gods  above,  verso  realizes  he  might  be  concussed:  he’s  actually  ENJOYING  himself  for  once  !! 

[anthcs]

'i'm not a hero. i don't know why i'm doing this.' for percy! 🌊

@seabraind

A shriek from one of the younger campers is because of siblings rough housing near the water’s edge. There’s a protest and splutter as the one pushed spits whatever unfortunate bits and pieces of the ground actually landed in the mouth. Siblings — half or not — will always be siblings; older brothers teasing, older sisters protecting, and younger siblings protesting at embarrassing nicknames. That much doesn’t change, even when there’s diluted ichor in the veins.

Sitting down next to Percy on the dock, with her legs swinging back and forth like a pendulum (much like she’s seen a camper named Colton do), Katie is torn between being surprised and unsurprised at Percy’s comments.

Unsurprised because most of the older campers (herself included, she supposes) seem to have an attitude of a soldier who did what they had to do to protect camp or the younger siblings inside. Though there’s nightmares she can’t shake, Katie finds it difficult to discuss with her younger siblings, instead offering a feeble “Just had a bad dream, that’s all.” when the fellow cabin inhabitants/half siblings are startled to see that yes, that even their chosen Head Counselor has night terrors or moments where panic arrives in hitched breaths.

Surprised, because it means that Katie’s not alone in this feeling, because she wonders how many more feel this way, and because she can’t help but wonder how long Percy has been feeling that way before finally being able to say it.

Katie isn’t going to pretend that she knows what Percy has been through, both before arriving at camp and afterwards with the subsequent quests he went on (including a very literal trip to the depths of Tartarus). What she can do is offer encouragement and listen, quietly acknowledging that for at least some of Percy’s trauma, he isn’t alone as her hand gives Percy’s a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“Because even if you don’t think you’re a hero, you’re a good person, Percy, that’s why.”

[shesnows]

@seabraind said: "i'm sorry i had such a devastating effect on you." / f scott fitzgerald prompts

pursed lips curl into a smile that is far too saccharine to be even remotely sincere. ❝ that's awfully presumptuous of you to assume, don't you think? ❞ but isn't it true? he has skidded none-too-gracefully into her life and turned everything onto its keel. whatever placid waves her life had once sailed upon have become storm-tossed and ever-changing. you should be sorry because everything was perfect before our paths crossed again! that's what khione's daughter would say if truth was as enticing as writers make it out to be but the simpler reality is that aurelia has always been more comfortable immersing herself in the safe shadows of half-truths.

❝ i'll have you know i'm entirely immune to percy jackson's signature charm. ❞ there is the lie and now here is the truth: ❝ besides, you can't really apologize for something you can't even help.❞ it's not like he'd set out to turn her world upside-down and give her a migraine on a weekly basis. it's something in his being, he can't seem to help but challenge her and she can't seem to help the way she reacts around him: the exasperated eye rolls, the begrudging half-smiles and the occasional (emphasis on occasional) laugh.

and the worst part...the part that would have her flinging herself into a frozen lake rather than ever admit out loud...is that some part of her is receptive to his unintentional influence. can she really accept an apology for something she may not even regret?

in aurelia's eyes, they could not be more different. they are opposite sides of different coins and yet that difference adds a frisson of excitement to her life in a way she can never seem to put her finger upon. yes, his effect on her has been devastating but it is only so catostrophic because it has forced her to realize how different the world feels when he's around.

[morsrexis]

🪦 ¹³⠀(⠀…⠀) ⠀ [ @seabraind. ] ⠀ ❝ if you’d just been honest with me from the start, we wouldn’t be here. ❞

❛ i told you already. i was honest. i just didn’t get the chance to provide a lot of details. ❜ nico huffs, meticulously playing with the paella on its plate. the spanish restaurant is quite busy at this time of day, providing just enough noise to drown out the discussion of idling demigods. ❛ if anything, this is a sign that you should learn to ask more questions before you go swimming across the atlantic. ❜

THEIR FORK CLINKS WHERE IT SETTLES ON THE PORCELAIN DISH❜S EDGE: his sign that whatever was left on it, nico wouldn’t touch. it was no fault of the dish, they would clarify if asked, but rather the work of an appetite far too small for what came before it. ❛ seriously. what kind of person agrees to travel out of the country, last minute, mind you, at the request of a vaguely–written text from their friend? what if it had been a trap? ❜

A STRANGE HYPOTHETICAL, SURE, BUT THE REALITY HAD BEEN NO LESS STRANGE.

the vaguely–written text in question was a set of coordinates: ones that lead the hero of olympus across the atlantic to the western coast of SPAIN, and the port town of CÁDIZ. what he went into, possibly expecting the situation of an ally in peril, was actually the bothersome case of an underwater aberration, tethered to the mortal realm by lost, sunken treasure on the sea floor, and a poorly–timed, dying burner phone.

⠀IT WAS EASY TO SAY THAT PAYING FOR PERCY’S LUNCH WAS THE LEAST THAT NICO COULD DO.

❛ still, ❜ di angelo ultimately settles — an attempt of quelling the tide before it rose — pressing its cheek into its palm. ❛ i appreciate you coming all this way. even if it was an arguably questionable thing to do. dolly sure appreciated it. ❜