i'm tragically funny and good-looking.

   ☣ “… Leo?”

   It was a bright summer day, and while it was enjoyable Ava was beginning to feel like summer was dragging on too long. Soon fall and winter would come, and she would have to find ways to keep the warm climate plants alive. It had been when she was perusing and thinking to herself when she had found him sitting alone. He looked tired for whatever reason, but she could ask him about that eventually. Dark curls stood out against the greenery and color, and if he had been trying to hide he did a terrible job.

    ☣ “Not that I don’t mind you being here… just… why are you here?”

forgests​

Busted.

It had just been...a getaway. A multiple buildup of everything that had happened could weigh on a teenager’s mind, even if said teenager had experienced quite a few questionable things in the past few months back home. Still, some time to think would be appreciated, and for once, he opted not to sit amongst the metal piles. He didn’t think he’d be caught, since he had planned on leaving, but nothing could be done now. He puts his hands up in surrender, the bags under his eyes stark.

“You got me! I’m making my new home here. Nice and cozy, all the....leaves n’ stuff.” His smile is still there, but it’s evident he’s not up to snuff as usual.

Usually a “thank you” would have sufficed. But the point Leo was quick to make was not without its foundations.

“Hey, I said I was sorry! It’s not every day you see a guy nearly set himself alight in a park! What would you do?” Doubling back a few steps, Hiro gave him room to gain his own ground, dark eyes widening at the blossom of a flame elicited at his fingertip. The sight was nearly enough to make Hiro drop the empty can he held in hand– nearly.

“Dude–!” The initial exclamation was slung right back at the stranger, the can landing with a light crunch upon the adjacent picnic table as Hiro moved in, brown eyes scouring the point of the flame’s manifestation in pursuit of any trickery of the eye. But if there was some clever way about this impression of magic…even he couldn’t see it.

“Wait so you’re seriously– how!? Are you some kind of genetically-modified human? Bit by a radioactive spider? What’s your story? You gotta tell me now.” The demand left the boy’s lips without a second more spared to reinforce his former misgivings about dowsing the other in a shower of soda. After all, he’d just been about shelling out a public service…how was he supposed to know the guy-nearly-on-fire also happened to be Mr. Match?

“It’s no wonder you could do all this without breaking out a blowtorch.” The next observation came in regards to the scrap metal just beginning to manifest shape and form beneath Leo’s careful construction. And, with a brow quirked slightly at the strange assortment, Hiro couldn’t help but to regard ever closer the mess of aforementioned junk with a childish curiosity suited to his age.

“What are you building, anyway…?”

“Uh...check out the awesome show? Come on, not many people manage to make themselves a human bonfire. Gotta admit that’s pretty cool.”

Sarcasm is laid on pretty thick, but naturally, that’s how he tended to work. A dismissive wave of the hand follows, flame following in it’s wake. He’s not too used to other people examining it like some kinda scientist, but the enthusiastic way the other boy eyes up the flickering fire makes his shoulders relax. Even if he had soaked Leo’s shirt and hair was soaked in cola, he didn’t seem like a bad guy.

“As cool as being the next spider-boy would be, not even close. It’s a bit cooler than that. Like, way cooler. Take those and multiply it by like...50.” Maybe he was exaggerating it a little, but a guy like him could never pass up a chance to impress, especially when it came to what he had grown to utilize instead of fear. The flame extinguishes itself, and a hand presses to his chest dramatically.

“The Leo Valdez, the coolest Demigod you will probably ever meet. If you see a guy named Jason, just know he wishes he was as cool as me. And didn’t you ever learn to say ‘please, oh great master mechanic’? That’s a total F in manners, final grade.” A bit of humor to take the edge off the feelings that have been digging at him for a while. Ignore the fact he was being demanded by the coke-showerer. He steps closer to the younger’s inspection of the device and picks it up in slightly calloused hands, the result of his short time at Camp Half Blood 5 feet deep in projects.

“Nothing much, just a little something to pass the time. Remembered I said I’d make some cool chick’s remote control car even better, started pulling it apart and modifying it. See, I started adding onto the motor, connected some parts, and in a few, you’ll see this baby tear up the streets, Fast and Furious style.”

Not his normal thing, but hey, itchy fingers needed something to do.

Hive City was by now a familiar backdrop, home to a familiar scene, and a familiar set of do’s and don’ts (not that this hooligan did often abide by them). So when Hiro Hamada happened to receive the text indicating he return “straight home” from the shop…it was only natural for the boy to think of taking the scenic route.

A can of soda in hand, and a plastic bag bearing an assortment of snacks all but sealed beneath his elbow, it was through the park Hiro traipsed in silence, wondering what misdemeanor had at last called his brother to attention to initiate the text. Worried albeit he was, even this significant pondering could not manage to outweigh the sight upon which he’d come in the course of his walk.

Largely abandoned save for a reasonably-sized picnic table, the park was always an open invitation for a breath of fresh air and a little tinkering. A unique thought attributed to the Hamada brothers alone…or so Hiro had presumed. Yet there he did come upon the sight of an unfamiliar set of shoulders; brows knitted in concentration as the fellow youth sat with his attentions focused heavily upon the mess of mechanics before him. And then, when Hiro had grown just within range to maybe catch a glimpse of what he was working on–

—-he sparked.

Hiro’s reaction was swift, the can of soda he bore in hand turned on its head to empty its contents over the boy’s shoulder. So in the instant the flame had been doused he could only blink, wondering vaguely whether what he thought he’d seen was just some trick of the mind. Of course, there was no way to tell now…just an awkward situation thrust between two youthful inventors– one a bit soggy…and the other never wishing more than at that moment that he could melt into the greenery beneath his feet. But in lack of that astounding super-ability, Hiro stuttered out the only words which came to mind:

“S……sorry. You were…on fire?”

>> forgests

Losing oneself in thought is often a habit of somebody sinking into a bad place, and this is evident in the son of Hephaestus especially. Despite the weight in his chest, his philosophy had always worked for him before...for the most part, anyway. So, trying it here wouldn’t hurt, would it? 

Just move on, don’t let the sadness catch up.

This meant submerging himself in the things he liked, which involved grabbing a hot beverage and a sandwich to sate his hunger from a nearby cafe with a double pistol and a wink tossed at the waitress on his way out. Never mind the fact his eating habits had been scarce lately, he could fix that. Nothing a little ham and cheese couldn’t fix.

He had loaded up on the parts he could find, ones that clicked with the ingrained sense that came with the kind of blood he had. It was like a second nature, picking through garbage and picking out had-been junk that would suit his needs well enough. He had loaded up on enough to fill two plastic bags, albeit heavy ones, and it had taken a bit of heaving to get it to a suitable workspace. One bite of a sandwich later and a messy pile dumped on scratched wood, he went to work, rolling dirty screws and wires between his fingers.

It happens without his knowledge, as it always done when he’s dead to everything but what’s in front of him, assembling pieces and using the occasional usage of heat to fix it into place, but this time it’s accompanied by a very unexpected happening. He’s just examining a joint, a half-finished creature in front of him, when all of a sudden a cold and sticky liquid shower assaults his skin. It’s in his hair, dripping down his face, staining his clean shirt, and Leo is on his feet and a torrent of spanish curses slip from his lips as he pushes wet curls out of his eyes.

“Dude!” That’s the first thing Hiro gets in response, demigod goosestepping out of his seat to squint at the culprit. Next comes the explanation, and a sigh of disbelief slips from his lips as he starts to wring out his shirt.

“How can I be mad when you’re pulling a face like that? Word of advice, next time, check to make sure the guy isn’t fireproof before you give him a cola bath. As nice and sugary as I smell, I’m gonna need another.” Giving up on his endeavor, Leo then holds up a finger, small flame springing to life at the tip as it would a lighter.

Bastille - Things We Lost in the Fire

   Bill knew a mark when he saw a mark. And if ever this kid wasn’t showing the signs of pending desperation. In the case of the Pines family, the madness driven home by coercion and exhaustion were careful steps the dream demon had taken the time to implement. Only, no hand did he need to intervene in regards to the demigod at present listlessly slumped before him. The worst of the damage was already done. Or so then it seemed.

   “Nɪᴄᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴡᴀʟᴋ, ᴇʜ ᴋɪᴅ?” This introduction to conversation Bill presented casually enough, from his place floating above the wearied youth letting off a dull golden glow when he spoke. “ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ʟᴏᴏᴋs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ɢᴏɪɴ’ ᴀɴʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ғᴀsᴛ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ’s ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟᴅ-ᴜᴘ? ᴀ ʙᴇᴀʀ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴛʀᴀᴘ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ!” Sincerity was by no means a natural crutch for the inter-dimensional being at hand. However, an actor he simulated to a T, one eye half-lidded as he scrutinized the subject of his attentions at present from beneath a line of long lashes.

   From his present angle, there appeared much more at stake here for the boy than just whether or not home would find him– but an uncertainty which hung in the balance at Bill’s discretion to dispel. Of course, nothing came free these days; a fact which would in time shine true.

He had either not expected to be bothered or had not even considered the notion of somebody pestering a child on his lonesome. Thoughts elsewhere, fingers moving on their own in the uncomfortable silence, the abrupt voice that intruded upon his small dirty haven was enough to make the half-built mechanical device slip from his hands and clatter to the alley floor.

The fact it comes from above him prompts Leo to twist his body, leaning back on both hands as he gapes for a few seconds. Sure, he’s seen a lot of...weird things. Snowy goddesses. Possessed automatons. More than a couple demons. You’d think a floating cyclops triangle would be no big deal, but it still received the patented curious eyeball.

“Woah. So, are you like the Charlie Chaplin of floating triangles? Well, without the wicked mustache and the whole silent thing. You been in any movies?” His mouth runs in the usual manner, but his tone at least seems to be...less enthusiastic. He tries hard to hide his feelings from other people, things like this are no exception.