empowered

                .・゜-: ✫ :-　𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕒 𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕖𝕤 　-: ✫ :-゜・．

                                                 i’ve never been a natural,

                                           all i do is

                                                                       try,     try,     try...

Kane’s buzzed on adrenaline, climbing up the stairs two at a time to get to his apartment floor. His steps could be more haphazard, but he’s cautioned by the plastic bags gripped in his hands. Stacked inside them are styrofoam containers filled with fried spam, veggies, and white rice that he can’t freaking wait to wolf down. More importantly, though, Rory might be tempted to scoff with satisfaction if he finds his favorite food waiting for him in the fridge when he’s back from work. But Kane? He’s not waiting that long. They haven’t visited their little Filipino restaurant in a minute, and Kane’s convinced the staff missed their favorite customers. His trusty ol’ intuition deterred him from dining in, however, but he managed to finesse an extra container just ‘cause. Shoving - as carefully as possible, the taut plastic hissing from the motion - the door leading to their apartment’s hallway open with his fist and his sneakered foot, Kane’s prepared to find a clear path to the finish line. He isn’t disappointed to see Aria lingering in front of their door, couldn’t be if he tried — hallway lights glinting the reddish highlights in her hair, and he can visualize an expectant expression on her soft features. Funny how he didn’t understand why he didn’t eat at the joint, but he finds the reason in the outline of her waiting for someone to answer their door. “Looking for me?” Kane calls, lifting his chin up in greeting as he approaches cooly. The urge to blow the rest of his adrenaline remains, but this time, the finish line isn’t his dining room table but wherever he can be in his friend’s presence. “I didn’t leave ya’ locked out too long, right?”

“Oh, we’re peers now?” It’s definitely not what Jae would call them, but sure. Of course, no one normal would hang around Ginny this much. “Ew,” he retorts with open distaste. He should’ve known a freak who already knows his coffee order would remember something like that. “Stop watching what I eat and drink. What are you, my mother?” As soon as she sits down he glares and shuffles his own chair further away from her. The crackers get tossed to the side now that it’s clear she’s not going anywhere. His hands are too shaky for the tiny wrapper anyway. “Whatever,” he huffs, curling in on himself with crossed arms, “Just don’t bother me.”

“Nah,” he returns flatly, “If I’m not a bitch at any given moment, I die.” If she’s not used to it by now, Rory’s not sure why she’s still sticking around. Clearly Aria just loves to have something to complain about. “I mean, sure. It’s not like I hate it. Listen, if I eat one, do you promise to stop bothering me about it?”

“yes, but if that doesn’t actually work well… i’ll take the burden for that too.” tyler’s very good at pretending to be selfless when in actuality his thoughts drift to what would benefit other people very rarely, and even now an act of seeming kindness is more about what he gets out of it. he’s not manipulative, necessarily, but he of course is the one who thinks that. “that was more what i meant, yeah,” tyler says with a half sort of grin, because he tends to assume anyone he encounters who looks vaguely around his own age is a student. but as for what abilities they have, well, that’s far more interesting to him. he’s never been so full of himself to have visions of creating some sort of demigod version of a high school bully clique, but he would prefer to be on the good side of the most powerful. “son of tyche,” he answers, sounding disinterested in it, as if his own abilities bore him and he’d much rather hear about hers. “not very exciting.”

He can see now why she and Ginny are friends. It figures two tiny meddling forces would find each other. It is, however, the last thing he needs right now. “Are you always this bossy? I don’t answer to you. Whatever you think has nothing to do with me.” But she’s not paying him any attention as she rummages through her bag so he lets out a sigh of exasperation. He eyes the crackers with disdain. “I’m allergic.” He’s not. He glares down at her, arms crossed. “Watch your fucking mouth. You can tell by the look of me? How dare you.” He snatches the crackers out of her hands now, seething. “If I eat these, will you finally leave me alone?”

“i wouldn’t worry too much about it. once they see i’m involved, they won’t question it.” tyler’s tone implies that he spends all his time running around helping his fellow demigods with all their silly little tasks, but what he definitely means is that everyone here knows how annoying he is. so any blame will fall squarely on him, and not on aria who looks like she’s never done a single thing wrong in her entire life. “then i’m glad i intervened, saved you a trip to medical.” he accepts her offered hand, shaking it gently, surprised by the gesture but finding it endearing regardless as he starts off toward where the weapons are kept. “you as well. what’s your thing?” the question is intentionally vague, curious about how she’ll answer.

Nate usually keeps his chin firmly up. But that day, he got stuck in an elevator for a while, something that made his claustrophobia and trauma act up. It made him cry, something he always hated. Head facing the ground, he spent the past few minutes since walking out of the elevator furiously wiping on and rubbing his eyes, even though he was scared this would irritate his skin. 

His skin doesn’t look that good without effort, okay? He needs to take care of his skin, but he also doesn’t want others to see him with wet or puffy eyes. When he crosses paths with Aria, however, his face lights up. He doesn’t need to pretend to cheer up — the smile that graces his countenance is real. “Oh, hey,” he says. He’s trying to sound cool. Trying to smooth out the raspy and congested quality in his voice caused by crying. “Unsa imo gibasa diha?” What are you reading there?

“Am I pulling your leg? What are you, sixty-two? Who even says that?” Rory is disgusted. He’s hanging out with a tiny grandma. He watches the marshmallow with incredible doubt. “It’s just edible foam and chocolate. How good can it be?”

“Such a delight? Such a sight for sore eyes?” He explains, “‘Pag-amping diha’ simply means ‘Take care.’ ‘Himos kaayo ka kung matinga ka’ means ‘You’re cute when you’re confused.’” A gentle laugh emanates from him. “If you’re talking about sharing my knowledge with other people, then never. I never get bored.” Turning to leave again, he said, “I really do need to go, though. But I see that you’re interested in this topic. If you want me to teach you Bisaya, just tell me and I’ll be happy to do that.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Were you not the one who handed me another coffee just now? I can go ahread and just dump it if that would make you feel better.” He holds the cup away from him but makes no other move to actually get rid of it. That would honestly take too much energy right now that he can’t frankly can’t muster. “Excuse me? I don’t believe that’s any of your business. Not once did I ever ask for your input on my wellbeing, but if you must know, I’m doing just fine. You’ll need something more concrete if you really plan on kicking me out of here.”

 Klaus  spots  her  as  he  always  does,  out  the  corner  of  their  eye,  off  doing  something  around  in  one  of  the  buildings.  The  long  legged  demigod  stalks  over  with  ease  towards  the  other,  neck  peering  over  the  side  of  her  shoulder.  Klaus  spots  a  stack  of  papers  in  hand  he  could  care  less  in  reading,  so  they  gently  tap  Aria’s  shoulder  to  capture  her  attention  once  more.  The  demigod’s  eyes  meet  her  own  in  a  flash  and  in  an  instant  a  warm  smile  forms  on  his  facial  features.    ❝  Aria,  hi.  ❞  The  boy  says  all  too  charmingly,  tone  dripping  sweet  and  so  smooth.  There  is  a  satisfaction  in  saying  all  the  right  things  in  the  right  ways  and  watching  someone  melt.  Niklaus  Noisanthia,  by  any  means,  is  not  a  good  person.  But  he  gets  to  play  pretend  in  Aria’s  head,  lulling  her  into  a  false  sense  of  security.  ❝  What  are  you  up  to  ?  ❞  Niklaus  inquires,  nodding  their  head  towards  the  papers  in  her  hands.  ❝  Class  stuff  ?  ❞  

 It  started  off  small,  as  all  things  do.  Brief  conversations,  lingering  eyes,  remembering  the  little  things.  ❝  I  was  hoping  you  weren’t  too  busy.  I  wanted  to  take  you  out  somewhere.  ❞  /  @ariagarces​

Her first school year at Nemean Lion came and went, and Aria’s not entirely sure what to say to her parents on the phone when they ask her how things have changed for her. She’s the one that begged to come to this campus, but now all she really has to show for it is admitting that the world outside of her cozy small town is more dangerous than she’d anticipated, and that she hasn’t even made enough friends to count on more than one hand. She supposes that’s what she gets for busying herself with schoolwork and any other work she can find volunteering around campus, but it’s what she’s found she does best— study and observe. Now that classes are fully back in session again this autumn, it’s all too easy to fall into the same routine of waking up for class, scheduling study sessions, signing up for volunteer hours, rinse, and repeat. It’s always a nice surprise to find something new to take up her day— like running into Kane and Rory for reluctantly exciting excursions, or a text from Ginny to spend quality roommate time. But today it comes in the form of a demigod she’s only recently met.

“Klaus, hi,” she smiles back, reciprocating their warm greeting. She’s unsure how close a friend he considers her, but something about him makes her want to earn the title. It’s not often she meets someone so inviting and accepting of her, after all. “Extra credit,” she answers, capping the highlighter in her hand and hoping that doesn’t come off too lame. Aria’s brows rise as they go on, innocent eyes looking up as her mouth parts slightly in a small o-shape. “Out?” she repeats, as if trying the word on for size. “Like, Quick Fix?” she asks, wondering if he wants company in grabbing a latte.

A season of infinite possibility, summer passes too quickly for Kane’s liking. The days are leisurely and un-rushed, each minute molded by whatever Kane and Rory decide to do with their time. At the end of it, collecting so many unstructured memories feels unreal, like stirring awake from a deep dream. Kane’s found himself in a dream or two, even meandering through other people’s dreams like a stranger visiting a foreign city. Involuntarily knowing so much about his friends and people he barely knew was why he escaped to the cliff’s edge to train instead of the gym. It’s quieter here, and Kane focuses only how he swings his sword, how he lunges, how to grind his feet into the dirt for balance. The sunlight glaring off the sword — courtesy of the Heph kid behind the desk at the armory, they talk — blinds Kane, squeezing his eyes shut a second too early as he attempts to pivot away from an imagined jaunt. With a foreboding grunt, his foot slips, and the next thing he knows his back collides against the earth, gravity knocking the sword out of his hand. Adrenaline courses and he lifts his head despite a pinch between his shoulder blades, scanning that every limb’s intact. Kane’s not a kebab, thank Tyche. A hand thuds against his chest, Kane exhales a relieved sigh. Resounding footsteps shake the ground, and he thinks he’s dead-meat from the crazed look in the intruder’s face. Kane snorts too hard, upsetting the pain in his chest. “Fuck.” Kane makes a face. “Yeah, but you saw that? Did it look as cool as it did in my head?” He’s judging that it did not, but that possibility’s the only way he scrounges up enough dignity to take her outstretched hand. “Kane Alegre, that asshole.” They’re already hand-in-hand, he might as well offer his name to go along with it. Kane bends his knees and, with her help, leaps back onto his feet. “Why’s it your fault that I broke my back again?”

Nate laughed. He enjoyed riling her up. And that was why he kept on teasing her. Definitely the only reason. No other reason. “Gwapa ka,” he said. You’re beautiful. Someone with even the slightest familiarity with Bisaya, he assumed, would have an inkling of what that means. Even a knowledge of Spanish would be handy; gwapa was one of those Spanish loan words, from guapa. “Do you still think I’m insulting you? Is that your final answer?” He looked down, licking his lips, as though he were suddenly growing shy. Totally just an act. Just for the laughs. A joke. Nate was never shy. “Maybe I’ve actually got a massive crush on you and I’m scared you’ll find out. Have you considered that?”