𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄

@drmthief​

Well, staying in actual houses was a step up from a tent. Granted, he felt like he was staying in some dingy apartment in the bronx, but it certainly beat the wilderness. The son of Cronus stretched as he wandered out of the house he’d claimed for himself, clad in a pair of short track shorts and the crop top he’d slept in, Asher Jones had been lingering around the front ‘yard’ of the house when he saw a familiar face skulking around another house. “Hey, Dali,” he called out with a new found piqued interest. While to be fair, at one point he’d chalked the kid up to some emo creeper, after watching him on the trial, seeing him handle himself, he couldn’t help but wonder. 

So, in pure Asher fashion, he sauntered over, still in clad in the clothes he slept in. “How you feeling super star?”

this was a familiar feeling, the slow climb before the plummet. hell hounds, dexter bringing the three other members to fight cerberus, the inevitable confrontation with malik. it was all beginning to align and, for once, romeo felt as if he could stand his ground with the rest of them. 

maybe he’d proven himself to them.

maybe he’d proven himself to himself. 

hearing his name, romeo turns to look at asher—barely dressed—and stops to turn toward him. “i don’t think i’d call myself a superstar.” romeo answers honestly, a shrug of his shoulders. he looks around at undertown, at the demigods finally coming back and being reunited with one another. “but i’m okay. tired.” he pauses for a moment, lets silence fill the space between them.

“uh, how are you?”

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐈. their past lives probably couldn’t have been more different - that much was obvious - but the loneliness that the son of hypnos portrayed simply hit differently. maslo would never admit it, much less say it out loud, but the feeling was there; enough for him to continue sitting regardless of romeo’s reaction. “well, not yet… maybe.” he shrugs his shoulders, more focused on drawing lines into the dirt in front of him. “but we gotta start somewhere, right?” the smile he offers romeo is surprisingly genuine, surprisingly harmless - something not usually seen on maslovski’s features.

“sooo, like, what’s your favorite band?” 

the attempt at casual conversation catches him off guard, more so than maslo’s declaration of best friendliness. for a moment or two, perhaps even a moment too long, he stares at the son of pan with a blank expression. 

“why do you care?” romeo asks him, defensively. almost all of the conversations he’s had since arriving have been about who he is, what he can do, if he’s enjoying himself, if he’s okay. surface level, demigod bullshit. but this is different. this is personal. 

and romeo dalî does not do personal. 

“i don’t know. i don’t have one.” he shrugs his own shoulders, eyebrows knitting together in a frustrated expression as he looks away from maslo and out toward undertown. 

@drmthief​

Yves’ unruly hair, while fabulous, can really cause trouble. Like right now, when he can’t seem to get the chain shirt over his head without disturbing it. “Romeo!” he calls as soon as he sees the slumped shadow walking nearby. “I really hope this wasn’t an attempt to sneak by me. Your stealthiness sucks. Come over here and help me put this on. And be careful with the hair, please!” He stands patiently, two arms only halfway through the sleeves of the thing. 

romeo stops and pivots, turning to face the son of aphrodite. he cocks an eyebrow before he looks around at all of the other people who he could’ve possibly asked to help him out. 

“your hair is going to get fucked up anyway, yves. it does every time you fight.” he reminds him. he doesn’t move any closer than just outside of the man’s reach. “might as well just get used to it. you had blood in it the other day.”

@drmthief​

“There you are!” Hudson beams from the doorway, ecstatic to see the perpetually grumpy twink. “So, they didn’t get you! Was afrai—” He freezes, a voice in his mind helpfully pointing out that the party could have, in fact, been attacked and the young man in front of him was actually a very well made disguise or a well built machine! His face crumples. How was he supposed to tell if this was the real Romeo? He couldn’t ask him questions, after all, they could have pulled his memories from him– like the river guardian had done to him. However, faking instinct was difficult, and there was one thing Hudson knew Romeo hated.

“C’m’ere!” In a split second, Hudson crosses the room, wrapping his arms around the kid for a tight hug, waiting and ready for a stab or the heavy hand of sleep.

hudson’s chipper attitude grates on romeo in a heartbeat. he’s exhausted, not mentally but physically, from the fight with the hell hounds and the overexertion that he’s already been forcing himself through to earn his place among them. he’s about to say something when hudson’s demeanor changes. 

he’s about to say something when his entire world shifts and his space is invaded. 

hudson, who stands taller than him and is vastly larger than him, wraps him in a hug without so much as asking. 

romeo reacts instinctively. first, his body tenses, eyes close, and he can already feel the dream dust particles beginning to form beneath his palm. they swirl like a tornado, a dust storm of nightmares that he can grip. he twists and brings a floating umbral black dagger toward hudson’s throat.

“don’t fucking touch me.” he growls out, eyes a bottomless pit of fear and anger. 

“𝐉𝐄𝐄𝐙, 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎 - 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇?” maslovski raises his hands in surrender as he’s threatened at blade-point, brows furrowing so hard that his perfect forehead creases. “is it so wrong for me to wanna talk to my best friend when we both can’t sleep?” best friend was pushing it - far - but that was also kind of maslovski’s brand.

romeo raises a single eye brow at the term ‘best friend’, and it makes him scrunch up his face in distaste. “i wouldn’t even consider us friends, much less best ones.” he clarifies, just in case maslo seems to have any other ideas going on in his head. 

the idea of friendship is almost foreign to the son of slumber, especially to someone who he barely knows or trusts. 

“what do you want?” he asks after a second of silence, lowering the dagger on maslo and fixing him with an unbothered stared. 

a wind eddied around credence, making his silk robe billow gently.

ever since the dream, he felt this whorl of power in him – pulsating in seamless rhythm with each breath, hidden behind each heartbeat. he felt stronger, more a whole than he’d ever been, mosaicked together by lightning. the lack of a sky here had yet to stop bothering him but at least credence knew that wherever he was, he carried a piece of it in him.

the sudden question made the wind that encircled him fade, the dust motes in the air coming to a still once more. he cocked an incredulous bow at romeo. ‘dying’ was a hefty concept to throw around before breakfast. “i am afraid of not accomplishing the things i want to accomplish before death. i am afraid of not having the chance to prove myself.” credence finger-combed his dark locks back, looking out at the suburbs and then back at romeo. “but, the actual thing? i don’t .. know. i am curious about it.” he gingerly nudged romeo’s shoulder with his own. “that’s a dark question, even for you.” a smirk cut across his features. “are you afraid of death, snoozy?”

“there are worse things to be scared of.” romeo says not looking at credence. 

he lets the nickname pass over him like credence’s hawk passes through the skies. it’s there one moment and gone the next. his lips never curl into a smile, his expression doesn’t soften. instead, he continues to stare out toward the bleak suburbs of undertown, into the greyness that swallows them all. 

finally, after a moment, he looks toward credence. hazel eyes meet electric blue and he holds them for a moment, angling away from the man so their shoulders aren’t touching, so there’s space between them. 

“when i was younger, i thought about death a lot. sometimes wished for it.” he keeps the eye contact, and laces his fingers together over his knee. “death isn’t a monster to fear. not really. it’s why i’ve thrown myself into everything. i think i’ve almost died three times since coming down here.” 

he stares out toward the bleak, desolated undertown, with its ash riddled sky and skeleton bone houses, and wonders how much longer they’ll be down here and if time passes the same down here as it does back up top. 

 when he turns his head to look back toward the other demigods, his hazel eyes land on credence. “credence,” romeo says, head lilting to the side. “are you afraid of dying?”

“You think you might get some use out of this?” Joshua carefully slung the longbow he’d had over his shoulder and away, making sure not to damage the bowstring. 

“Got it back at camp before I knew what I could do. Turns out that a son of Ares kinda wants to be up in the enemy’s face, not shooting things from a distance. Who knew?” He grinned but the exhaustion was clear on his face. 

“I know you can do all that sand stuff but don’t know if there’s a limit to it.” The two of them had been on both quests Josh had experienced so far so he had some idea of his capabilities. “And you’ve got good aim so I figured you might want it.”

romeo looks up toward josh and then toward the longbow that he moves from over his shoulder. 

a gift.

he stares at it for a little too long, his eyes going distant, his expression tightening. he doesn’t even realize he’s made a face until he goes to open his mouth and no words come out.

it takes a few more tries before he can even make out a sentence. he doesn’t remember the last time anyone’s ever given him something as a gift—never, if he’s being honest with himself. 

Greyson still couldn’t get that dream out of his head and how he now felt. More purposeful, focused, like he finally knew where he was going and what he was doing with these powers that had been given to him or unlocked inside him. He felt as though he didn’t always need a light source to power him anymore, but instead he was the light. He toyed with his sun orb in his hands, the little golden ball sat in Grey’s pocket most of the time, always there if he needed it but for now he was letting the glow of the lava river help charge it. 

When he noticed Romeo, Grey gave a warm smile, even though he didn’t know the other demigod particularly well. The son of Hypnos was quite the enigma to Greyson. Down time was like a waiting game in the underworld, unless there was some small quest to go on or they were heading to the next big thing. Grey never really knew what to do with himself during the waiting. “The waiting around’s kind of frustrating huh?” He mused conversationally.  @drmthief​

a swirl of black sand seems to coalesce around romeo’s fingers. it weaves between them, defying time and space, a constant infinite between his knuckles. he moves his hands together and the dust begins to weave itself together, forming a glinting, black dagger out of the dust of dreams. 

he grins when he sees the small, black fox pop up out of the earth, sitting beside him as he focuses on his power. 

the voice startles him, but only for a brief moment. the dagger fades away, blowing away as if on a breeze and the small fox curls up beside him and does the same. he looks toward greyson and attempts to offer a smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes )they never do). 

“yeah.” romeo agrees, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks around at the waiting demigods. “but sometimes the waits worth it. can’t run ourselves ragged if we’re expected to survive.”

he feels like a hypocrite even saying something like that considering how many times he’s run himself to the brink of exhaustion just to prove himself to the others. 

it’s ironic that the demigod of sleep tends to not sleep that much over all. he carries his sleepy bones daily, pushing himself to the limits of exhaustion before he has to crash and sleep for a few hours and start all over again. it’s been that way since he was little. sleep, for him, was never a safe space—the land of dreams could easily turn into a land of nightmares, an inescapable hellscape. 

but a fox told him that he is strong enough to wake himself up, that he’s enough.

and that’s enough for him.

he sits on top of his bedroll, some of his things neatly tucked underneath it, and balances a black and gold dagger between his fingertips. the sands pour back and forth like an hourglass, shifting the two opposing colors back and forth. it brings a small smile to his face.

looking up, he sees maslo watching him. he twists his wrist and the dagger moves, point pointing toward the son of pan.

@drmthief​

Just like while they were journeying to find the source of the buzzing, Joshua was mostly quiet for the walk back from the quest. His mind had been on how reckless he’d been, how close he’d gotten to being taken out by the hellwasp and how he wouldn’t have done it any differently. His thoughts did trail to one other thing, though. Something that might’ve been better in someone else’s hands.

Once the group was back to the group of tents they’d put up, Josh watched which way Romeo went. After that, he went to his own tent, grabbed the item in question and caught up to the other demigod.

“Romeo, hey.” Josh spoke up as he was still a bit away. He’d noticed how he’d treasured distance even more than the son of Ares did. “Got a question for you.” It was more than just a question but he couldn’t just come out with it. That was a bad look.

his muscles ached, pain was throbbing beneath his skin like boiling water. he could feel himself on the brink of his exhaustion, ready to fall from the rocky cliff that he was clinging to by his fingertips. he knew he had to do it, though, knew he had to constantly fight for his place among them.

maybe now they’d realize that he wanted to be here, that he’d fight to earn his spot if he had to.

he barely notices joshua’s approach until he’s being spoken to. wearily, romeo drags his gaze up toward the son of ares, locking hazel eyes with the other’s. 

WAKING IN A NIGHTMARE — PATH.

weeks have turned to months and your journey to olympus, your acceptance of your life as a demigod, has lead up to this moment. it's been brutal, wrought with pain and close calls, thick with loss, but you've endured. as you begin to get ready to sleep, winding down for the night, something inside of you feels different. there's a strength that grows that you only dimly knew was there before. you feel stronger, faster, more attuned to your senses and your own inner power. if you ever doubted that you might have divine blood in your veins before, now, more than ever, you feel it.

as soon as your head hits the pillow you fall fast asleep, exhausted from the events that have lead up to this point. who knows however long later, you "awaken". you're not where you fell asleep, nothing is as it was when you slept. you have to blink a few times but you realize that you're in a place that seems familiar to you. describe this place? what does it look like, sound like, smell like?

“I don’t mind at all,” Yves’ sing-songs from behind and gives Romeo a teasing poke to the soft end of his ear. The most skin contact he’d allow himself, given Romeo’s allergic reaction to anything Yves related.

He walks around to face the new demigod, although he didn’t feel as new anymore. Too much cuts and bruises on him at this point. “Is it the nightmares?” he asks more quietly now, serious. “Ever since that thing paralyzed me, I– Sleeping has always been an issue, but recently I’ve started to have a lot more nightmares. I feel like… I don’t know. Am I losing my mind, or are you experiencing the same thing?”

he closes his eyes when he feels the phantom touch of yves’ finger on his ear and he bites down the remark that threatens to break through the cage of his teeth. 

he’ll give credit to yves, at least he’s learning not to overstep the lines that romeo’s drawn in the sand. 

“every time i sleep i have nightmares. it’s nothing new.” romeo says casually, almost waving his hand in dismissal. “probably means there’s something unresolved that you need to fix.” 

he looks around at the other demigods, all sitting around in their groups, their friends or more, and then there’s him. 

alone.

it’s easier that way, he thinks, but he knows his survival depends on the other’s, too. 

and he hates that.

with a sigh, he stands up slowly and makes his way toward a cluster of demigods. awkwardly, he clears his throat. 

“do you mind if i join you for a bit? until i nap.” he gives them a small time frame, just in case they don’t want his company for too long.

his muscles ache from the strain of the fight against achilles and he pushes the thoughts about how yves almost died because of him to the side. yves didn't matter. romeo did. he had to remember to think of himself. it's a selfish thought, but he's still not convinced, even with the neatly wrapped words and brightly colored promises, that they'd have his back like they say they will.

in the end, he knows he has to take care of himself or they'll get rid of him. it's almost inevitable.

he stands around one of the fires that the demigods have started, arms folded over his chest as if to keep himself together, to keep himself in his own space.

"i don't remember seeing you on any of the boats." it's not a question but a statement. even if romeo hasn't interacted with all of the demigods, he's committed their faces to memory, knows them in passing. this didn't sit right with him. a wild card, someone he didn't know that was here now. "did you enjoy the ride?" his voice doesn't seem genuine, as if he's forcing the questions out, forcing the conversation to happen.

but expectation has been thrown out the window. he’s already been possessed by an ancient warrior and defeated another one. 

a pang of guilt pulses beneath his ribs and he frowns at the unexpected feeling. he looks down at his hands before he pulls out one of the blades he’d fought achilles with, admiring it. every now and then a golden spark emits from the tip of his finger, running it against the edge of the blade. he’s no stranger to knives, or violence, but sometimes he wonders what the point of it all is. 

he sighs, inhaling and exhaling a few times before he looks up and meets a pair of familiar eyes. he furrows a brow, hazel eyes looking away for a moment. “not ready to sleep?” he questions, looking passed the son of hecate toward the other demigods who seem to be pitching their tents and getting ready to settle down for the night. 

he doesn’t know how they could sleep like this. romeo has a hard enough time sleeping in his own bed, behind a locked door. he knows he won’t sleep in a tent with a zipper that can easily be opened and not locked. it sends a cold shiver down his spine but he tries to hide it as best he can.