𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆.

⟨  𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐍  𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑.  𝐂𝐈𝐒  𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄.  𝐇𝐄 / 𝐇𝐈𝐌.  ⟩  though  the  mist  might  prevent  some  from  seeing  it,  𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍  𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆  is  actually  a  descendent  of  A P O L L O.   it’s  still  a  question  of  whether  or  not  the  TWENTY-SIX  year  old  𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒  &  𝐏𝐑𝐄-𝐌𝐄𝐃  𝐌𝐀𝐉𝐎𝐑  from  LOS  ANGELES,  USA  has  taken  after  their  godly  parent  completely,  but  the  demigod  is  still  known  to  be  quite  𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄  &  𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃.

                       INFO.   /   CONNECTIONS.   /   PLAYLIST.   /   PINTEREST.

i’ve  added  under  the  cut  some  ic  information  about  what  happens  next  for  samson  and  rafi  so  hopefully  this  will  help  tie  up  loose  ends  ☀️💀💛🖤

                              𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋  𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀  :  @𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆.

posted  2  hours  ago  :  this  smile  is  my  sun  🥰 ☀️ happy  valentines,  @euceleste

                              [   𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑  &  𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃   ]   A  SAMSON  KING  PLAYLIST.

             𝚒'𝚖  𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊  𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚝  𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛  𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚜  𝚞𝚙,  𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕  𝚋𝚎  𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢  𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎  𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜  𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚜𝚞𝚗   ☼ 

                though the device lays neglected near the edge of his desk, the buzzing against wood has sage’s gaze drawn to the phone immediately. there’s no explaining how or why; feelings of unease overwhelming as he stares at the name on the screen. samson king — son of apollo, who had as little reason being awake as sage would have had to be asleep. theirs is a bond rooted so deeply, it requires little effort to sense when something is off. 

and today, something is definitely off. 

the withered book of spells is dropped in front of him momentarily ( though carefully, despite his rush ), samson’s message received with clear confusion. the timing; the question; none of it adds up. sage can count the nights he’s spent asleep the past year on a single hand — a habit his friend is well aware of. it all adds to the oddity of the situation and fuels his anxiety tenfold. 

but knowing samson, the message had been more of a courtesy than a genuine question requiring an answer. he’s expecting the younger to show up at the cabin within the next ten minutes, and if not, he’ll be well on his way himself. even so — in light of recent events — sage decides to at least shoot him a quick reply.

        { msg : samson ♡ } am i ever not?          { msg : samson ♡ } what’s wrong? are you alright?

          𝐇𝐄'𝐒  𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓  𝐓𝐎  𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄  𝐀  𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄  𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒  when  the  reply  from  sage  lights  up  his  screen  and  a  small  breath  of  relief  is  exhaled  through  his  nose.   quickly  typing  a  reply,  samson  pockets  his  phone  once  he’s  done  so,  grabbing  his  keys  from   bedside  table  and  slipping  on  the  nearest  pair  of  trainers,  not  bothering  to  change  out  of  the  sweatpants  he’d  worn  to  bed  before  creeping  through  darkened  house  and  out  the  front  door.

                            [   SENT  //  YER  A  WIZARD  SAGE  :  i’m  coming  over.   ]

          the  dark  does  little  for  his  anxiety,  nerves  alight  at  every  stray  movement,  every  rustle  of  leaves  in  the  cool  early  morning  breeze.   it’s  a  relief  to  reach  familiar  housing,  and  while  a  part  of  him  knows  the  serenity  runes  are  partly  to  blame,  another  part  can’t  help  but  feel  comforted  by  the  dependable  warmth  the  sight  brings.

                                    [   SENT  //  YER  A  WIZARD  SAGE  :  outside   ]

❀

     it was once endearing to see samson breathe life into the dance team whenever he walked into the practice room. sunshine and warmth follow wherever he goes (like father like son, it seems). now, though? all mae felt was cold. a practiced smile easily (too easily) masks the sourness that threatens to twist their face. “happy new year to you too! and no, i’m not waiting for anyone,” they almost grimace—way to rub it in, “so you’re more than welcome! i do have an umbrella, though. if you really need to go, please take it.”

    no, definitely not a polite invitation for him to leave; the masochistic little demon in their head lives for the pain his bright smile brings, after all.  

     the whole point of going out for lunch was to motivate themself into eating something — anything — after a night of drinking the misery away, since they knew cooking was out of the question. stabbing into their caesar salad, their appetite all but gone, mae tries to come up with a topic of conversation. how they feel has never been samson’s fault anyway; the least they owed him was common courtesy. “ah, i saw you for a moment at the party last night. i take it you’ve had a good new year’s eve?”

—

          𝐇𝐄'𝐒  𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓  𝐓𝐎  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑  𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑  𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐓,  smile  still  firmly  in  place  as  he  takes  a  seat,  glad  for  the  excuse  to  get  off  his  feet,   ❛   oh,  thanks  !   i’m  not  in  any  rush  though  ;  it’s  a  slow  day,  especially  after  the  drinks  i  had  last  night.   ❜   the  grimace  that  replaces  expression  momentarily  is  quickly  overtaken  once  more  by  a  soft  grin  at  mae’s  question,  still  riding  on  an  everlasting  high.

Isaac often tried to get into the dance studio when it was empty, it was a different experience to have the space to get out whatever they were feeling without anyone watching. They weren’t afraid to share their feelings with people, Isaac was always very open in conversation but there were still things they kept to themselves and dance was one way they could process them. 

As the music stopped and they doubled over to take a few deep breaths, their head turning to see where the noise was coming from. Their eyes found Samson, a smile that could light up any room on his face as he approached. “Hmm I don’t know, I’ve heard things about their captain. Apparently he’s a real strict one, hard to be around. Some real horror stories.” Isaac laughed, as they pushed off their thighs to stand up straight again moving to meet Samson half way and pull him into a hug. “I’m glad to see that you’re alright Samson.” They said basically in the man’s ear before letting him go again. “Next time, don’t spy on me though. Announce yourself instead of watching from the doorway.”

—

          𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇  𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒  𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘  at  the  lighthearted  jab,  and  samson  can’t  help  the  rush  of  affection  as  he’s  pulled  into  a  hug,  reciprocating  the  gesture  in  kind.   ❛   you  too,  isaac,   ❜   there’s  a  smile  in  his  voice  as  he  replies,  stepping  back  to  survey  the  other,  arms  crossing  over  his  chest  in  overdramatic  mimicry  of  some  of  the  more  uptight  team  captains  he’s  seen  around  campus,   ❛   as  your  overbearing  captain,  i  say  it’s  my  zeus-given  right  to  spy  on  anyone  using  these  dance  facilities  whether  they  like  it  or  not  !   ❜

       by the time her phone buzzes again she’s just entered her room, grateful that ariel and siiri are nowhere to be found and it seems to be vacant for the time being. the goodbyes between friends had been short and sweet, everyone eager to sleep off the remainder of their hangovers, and celeste finds herself hastily digging through her belongings to jump in the shower. even attending breakfast like had been pushing it –- there was no way she intended to see samson in this state, regardless of how many compromising positions he’d seen her in before.

      thankfully a good scrub, hot water, and plenty of steam do help to ease the pain in her head. it’s not gone by any means, but by the time she’s in a clean set of comfortable clothes, she’s at least able to string together a coherent thought. it doesn’t erase the ache in her muscles even if it’s minutely better, so celeste finds herself back in bed to keep herself off her feet, petting at north’s nose when she hears a knock at the door. samson’s voice following soon after draws a little smile on her mouth. “ of course, come in ! ” she calls out, though north’s already on the job, drawing the door wide open. it’s celeste who greets him first. “ good morning again. ” while she’d sent the majority of her shower worrying that she’d read far more into last night than she should’ve, she decides not to give it anymore thought. nerves comforted by sweet scent of soap and a fresh, damp feeling – this still felt familiar in its own way. “ oh, you look just fine. better than fine. don’t tell me the hangover skipped you. that hardly seems fair. ”

          𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄  𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐒  𝐀  𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄,  one  which  only  grows  wider  at  the  sight  first  of  north  pulling  the  door  open  (  his  own  movement  to  do  so  redundant  ),  and  then  of  celeste  bundled  in  quilt  covers.   ❛   good  morning         !   ❜   his  voice  is  warm,  momentarily  distracted  by  greeting  north  with  a  wrinkle  of  his  nose  and  a  quiet  ‘  hey  girl  !  ’  as  he  moves  past,  leaving  her  to  shut  the  door  behind  him.

          attention  drawn  back  by  mock-affronted  words  he  can’t  help  the  huff  of  laughter  that  leaves  his  lips,  making  amused  eye  contact  with  cel  as  he  does  so,   ❛   i  didn’t  feel  fine  an  hour  ago.   perk  of  the  job  is  being  able  to  sing  away  some  of  the  regrets  from  the  night  before.   ❜   he  realises  the  implication  of  the  last  sentence  as  soon  as  it  leaves  his  mouth,  and  samson  is  quick  to  back-track,  mentally  kicking  himself  for  the  blunder  of  wording,   ❛   not        !   not  that  i  regret  last  night,  of  course,   ❜    flustered,  he  stops  at  the  end  of  her  bed,  usual  calm  demeanour  completely  thrown  off,  ❛   i  couldn’t  have  asked  for  a  better  night,  honestly,  i  just  uh,  could  have  used  a  few  less  drinks  in  the  end.   ❜ 

       the surprise leaves only a spare moment between them, one where celeste feels her pulse kick up while she waits for the offer to click. she’s not expecting him to say no, but her stomach still does a flip when his hand reaches for hers, familiar smile on his face except this time bigger. “ i’m hoping that you can’t. ” she laughs, though there’s a hitch of nervousness to it. it doesn’t fade as he leads them deeper onto the dance floor and the realization sets in that she’s actually going to have to dance, and with samson no less, a child of the god of arts. she reminds herself that she’s faced far more horrific things: monsters bearing too many heads and shark-shaped teeth. dancing should not be on her list of fears.

rejection, though ? maybe.

      always a quick study and determined not to embarrass herself, celeste falls into it naturally, hand resting gently over the fabric of his shirt. she alternates between staring down at the ground to manage where she’s stepping and looking up to meet his gaze, but there’s a smile that stays planted firmly on her mouth. if he’s even half as nervous as she is, she can’t tell. he moves to the music like it’s something as simple as breathing, and celeste moves too, less gracefully but managing to follow his lead and desperate to capture a mental image of this moment. it’s not one she wants to forget. 

      just as the praise comes, the bottom of her foot finds his toes and she lets out a sheepish laugh. “ natural, huh ? ” celeste has never considered herself a clumsy person, but it’s thrown her off enough to trip up her small sense of rhythm. that and the fact that she’s tipsy means she falls forward before she quickly draws back. “ usually i prefer to lead. ”  she teases to smooth it over, but her face is hot and her voice gives her away. “ it’s like teaching a fish to ride a bicycle. ” 

          𝐅𝐎𝐑  𝐀  𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓  𝐇𝐄  𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒  they’re  not  the  only  two  in  the  room,  attention  solely  on  celeste  and  their  gentle  movement  across  the  dance  floor,   her  smile  as  she  catches  his  eyes  filling  his  chest  with  dizzying  warmth.   then,  as  soon  as  they  find  a  rhythm  they’re  broken  out  of  it,  his  compliment  seemingly  the  catalyst  ;  hands  move  to  gently  catch  her  arms  as  she  falls  forward,  a  light,  good-natured  laugh  masking  the  way  his  own  face  —  already  red  from  the  dancing  and  alcohol  —  grows  brighter  at  her  proximity.

          ❛   i’m  pretty  sure  i  saw  a  fish  riding  a  miniature  bicycle  at  the  aquarium  once,   ❜  samson  jokes  in  an  attempt  to  ease  some  of  the  nervous  edge  he  picks  up  in  her  voice,  ❛   so  i’m  pretty  sure  it  can  be  done.   ❜   he’s  about  to  speak  again  when  the  song’s  last  notes  fade  away  to  an  announcement  from  the  dj,  warning  of  last  orders  before  the  impending  ball  drop.   

          then  the  door  opens,  and  —  distracted  —  he  looks  up  to  see  who  it  is,  which  is  when  the  animal  strikes  at  exposed  skin,  eliciting  a  curse  and  a  sharp  hiss  of  pain,    ❛   ow,  freddie           !   ❜   standing,  he  shakes  maimed  hand  while  pulling  the  bandage  out  of  reach  with  the  other,  a  groan  surfacing  when  he  sees  exactly  who  he’s  faced  with,   ❛   you  have  perfect  timing,   ❜   eyes  dart  to  bloodied  clothing,  automatically  moving  to  swap  out  his  makeshift  cat  toy  with  disposable  gloves,   ❛   aaaand  a  knack  for  turning  up  to  campus  injured.   what  happened  ?   ❜

          setting  the  pen  down  he  stands,  head  bowed,  braced  against  the  edge  of  the  table  until  he  feels  his  heartbeat  even  out,  fear  fading  as  the  silence  stretches  onward  and  the  remnants  of  his  nightmare  feel  less  tangible.   pulling  on  a  nearby  hoodie,  teeth  catch  bottom  lip  as  he  picks  up  his  phone  to  send  a  quick  text,  harsh  brightness  of  the  display  as  it  lights  up  making  him  wince  momentarily.

                               [   SENT  //  YER  A  WIZARD  SAGE  :  you  still  up  ?   ]

          display  reads  3:47AM  —  due  to  sage’s  nighttime  habits  samson  is  sure  his  friend  will  be,  their  schedules  seemingly  opposite  unless  he’s  asked  to  work  a  closing  shift  at  polaris.   the  wait  for  a  reply  is  an  agonising  one  ;  all  he  can  do  is  pray  sage  has  his  phone  nearby,  and  try  to  ignore  the  anxiety  that  has  settled,  leaden,  in  the  pit  of  his  stomach.

samson : dinner's on me tonight !

samson : what does everyone want

samson : and no, alex, stop trying to make pineapple on pizza happen, it's not going to happen 🚫

          he  leans  against  the  doorframe  and  simply  watches  for  a  while,  entranced  by  isaac’s  movements  and  the  way  they  hit  every  beat  with  precision  ;  it’s  only  when  the  song  finishes  that  samson  makes  himself  known,  clapping  as  he  moves  into  the  room  fully,  grin  prominent,   ❛             you  ever  thought  about  joining  the  dance  team  ?   i  could  put  in  a  good  word,  i  know  a  guy.   ❜

it’s a bit too bright in the room for rory’s liking; he tends to operate much more in the dark of night than he does in the day. on instinct he pulls the sunglasses down over his eyes, the light shining into the room was only serving to make the hangover he’d been drinking away worse. he’d only gone into the kitchen to get a bottle of limoncello he’d stored in the fridge. the plan was to make jello shots out of them but that was before the hangover he’d been trying to keep at bay slammed into him like a freight train. now the only goal was to get drunk enough that the hangover would be gone. it may not be vacation in the most technical terms, but it felt like it. 

the idea of food made his stomach twist into a knot and the smell of the pizza hits him after a second, only making it worse. “i’m good. thanks.” there’s a quiet wince as he takes off the sunglasses, adjusting to the light and sitting down a seat or two away from samson. he’s not usually one who cares for company, even less for conversation, but he needs the natural light to appraise the gems he’d brought up from the earth; as he takes them out of the bag, the gems catch the sun. “what do you think of this?” he asks, holding a pink opal up so samson can see with one hand and taking a swig of the limoncello with the other.

-

          𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓  𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓  𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐘  𝐓𝐎  𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄  𝐀  𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐓,  but  when  he  moves  to  do  so  samson  looks  up  again,  managing  to  catch  the  slight  wince  as  sunglasses  are  removed,  observances  of  pain  second  nature  to  him  now.   he  removes  his  headphones  entirely  to  leave  them  hanging  around  his  neck,  and  is  about  to  ask  if  he’s  alright  when  two  things  are  brought  into  view  :  a  pink  gem  that  catches  the  sun  as  rory  holds  it  up,  sending  scattered  whorls  of  light  dancing  across  his  laptop  screen,  and  a  bottle  of  limoncello.

        IT TOOK A DAY OR THREE FOR shiloh to entirely relax into her environment, she’d never been one who traveled often, yearning for the comfort of her room or her bed. the city was one that she’d dreamed of visiting though, and once she settled, she had the urge to explore the streets that were full of history and the culture that dazzled her countless nights in her dreams. the weather was beautiful, a mixture of cotton candy skies as the sun began to set, light on her feet as she strolled by the shops with wide eyes. she tended to get lost in her own thoughts, a shameless day dreamer, so when someone collided into her delicate frame she whipped her gaze over in shock. luckily, it was a figure she was very familiar with, “samson!” she chirped out, unusually chipper but he was someone she admired from the minute she got to eonia, “i’m great, just…taking it all in before we head back i guess? sorry if i was in the way, i wasn’t really paying attention…”

          𝐇𝐄'𝐒  𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊  𝐓𝐎  𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄,  brushing  off  her  apology  with  a  shake  of  his  head  and  one  of  his  own,  hand  gesturing  to  his  phone  as  he  does  so,   ❛   no  no,  sorry  it  was  mine,  too  much  music  choice  y’know.   ❜   

      it takes about a good half a minute for the door to swing open. alex had made a valiant attempt to open it with her foot, though being on her hands and wearing socks meant there was little success. finally, sage opens the door to keep their guests from waiting any longer. she’s glad they finally have the room to themselves – well, three out of four being dance team members meant it wasn’t entirely difficult, but still. “ welcome, welcome! ” alex cheers as the rest pile in, walking with her palms over to her bed and flopping over onto her back. “ samson better have used our big budget to bring snacks or i’m stealing dax’s credit card to order us some. ”