Heirs

It was almost instinctual. Some sense upon his skin, of attention sent in his direction and something attempting to capture a moment of beauty, and the son of Aphrodite was acting accordingly. An adjustment in his pose, head tipping just enough to make eye contact through the lens, and then flashing a half grin before he could even endeavour to stop it at the comment. "What can I say? I'm my mother's son, through and through." Eye contact remained even once the camera had been set aside, with Erasmo showing no signs of moving away from where he remained settled.

Thus a break was needed, less he risk blowing up on the next person to call him Aaron. He just needed a moment to calm down, to breathe. So he went for a run, making his way aimlessly through the woods. As nature surrounded him he started to relax, letting his mind find peace as the sun began to set in the distance.

Perhaps it was fate that brought him to that point, or maybe it was just some stupid luck. But as he stepped out of the edge of the woods upon his return he found himself catching sight of someone who looked eerily similar to himself.

"The fuck. . ."

"Okay so, doppelgangers are like, German, right?"

The words were out of his mouth before he could help it. Pushing himself up and off of the tree stump he'd been sitting on to make his way toward the guy. Were there Greek copycats like that? While he'd love to say that there was any chance he'd read up on the lore of the whole. Divine heritage thing... He really hadn't.

"...Rowan?" It was the name he'd been called repeatedly recently.

'Oooooo. Careful, or I'll just be asking about a thousand different dirty questions about those lovers." He teased with a little twinkle in his eyes.

"I feel like you probably already know most of the answers to those questions. Or we pretending you aren't incredibly popular around here, hm?"

Everything hurt. With a groan, Fletcher had sank into the tub of the bathhouse, deliberately hopping in the same one as Riaan as he slightly exaggerated the tumble he'd taken on the slopes the day before. “Not as young as I used to be I don't think --” he groaned, rubbing at the back of his neck a bit as he winced in male, performative pain. A pair of full eyes looking up from the water toward the son of ghosts and nightmares that sat opposite him. 

In truth Fletcher was almost constantly reinforcing his frame to mitigate any offensive strikes, a passive habit that he'd developed over time as a means of fortifying himself. He wasn't hurt in the slightest, in fact he was the sort of fighter that was strongest up close – a lunar blade and a manifestation of that celestial tether in tow – but he could still pout with the best of them. 

“Would you – ?” Fletcher kind of gestured with his “stiff” neck toward his back, “Please?”

They were something of a contrast. The other reinforced himself, made himself sturdier in the middle of the fray, while Riaan left himself exposed. Dropped his guard as a way to bait others in to his range, kept them on their toes with little regard for his own safety. It's why his body remained a tapestry of scars.

"Only because you asked nicely." He did still roll his eyes a little, before shifting his way around the edge of the tub. Bringing himself up from the water, settling instead on the edge with a leg either side of Fletcher, and reaching a hand down to begin a steady pressure against where the other's neck met his shoulder.

“are all your brothers on this floor?” he asked, bringing his arms around the other’s neck, slowly closing the distance between their faces again. “mine are downstairs.” 

no, he was more than content with the soft brush of lips against his own, and then the slow rock of hips back against his own. and yes, there was already a response to having his sunshine so happily settled in his lap.

"oh, I'm sure there all happily spread around the hotel and the city itself. I struggle to keep tabs on most of them." with roshan leaning in closer, the son of love was quick to lean himself in. lips connecting with roshan's, while his hands shifted. encouraging the other's hips in to a steady rocking motion.

what: disgruntled, icy french canadian fighting many demons including his useless phone. where: just outside the cabins

"tabarnak!!!"

the expletive is said with as much force as possible, as monty throws his phone roughly into the ground, a little gust of wind carrying it further than it would've gone otherwise. he doesn't even care. it's become exceedingly clear that they weren't joking when they said no outside technology works on the island.

monty just wants some semblance of normalcy, something to hold onto from his life outside. he wanted to check on his team and see how they're doing, maybe call a friend or teammate. 

he sighs and goes to retrieve the phone after a few seconds of stewing in his feelings, only to see that it's completely frozen. 

“such a piece of shit,” he grumbles as he tosses it back in his pocket, only then noticing that someone had witnessed that entire ordeal as he fought with his phone and ultimately lost. 

he flushes in embarrassment, feeling caught and exposed, before settling on anger instead and rolling his eyes with a disgruntled sound. 

“câlisse! i am not a performer, or a circus clown for you to watch!"  

hands raised almost immediately in a form of mock surrender, like he was feeling threatened, before the words had his lips quirking at one side, and well...

an easy dip of his body, a showman's bow, one arm in front and the other behind his back. playing it up, like a performance practiced time and again. stand centre stage with eyes upon you, and play the fool they expect you to be.

"guess instead that would make me the performer and clown, then? it is probably the role I'm better playing than you. bit too much leading man charm to be making a joke of yourself." a moment taken, waiting to see if any of the attempts lands, before standing up straight and flashing an easier smile. "it takes some getting used to. no screens, no news from out there, no movies."

there was a lot he did with the boys back in saskatchewan, but not many would hold his hand like that.

"you're gonna tell me if I'm gonna mess up one of those rules, right?" respecting the land. respecting what it meant to people. that's all he wanted. his voice still low, just north of mumbling while he pressed in against zach's side. the artemis cabin making him a bit more of a pack animal, even if his pack wasn't anywhere in sight. "so, uh. lead on, then, I guess." glancing over at the brunet. "since you know the stuff. I'll follow."

then, with a little grin, "always do, huh."

"I mean, there were all pretty obvious to me, at least. don't go trampling on things, don't go spreading different seeds, respect where the signs tell you to go..." it was pretty nice if you asked him. Just. 'hey don't do dumb shit' on a board. when directed to lead he did have to take a second to remember the exact plan of the gardens, the map, idling on a good course even as they started walking. and then that grinned comment earned a half laugh from the son of athena before he could help it.

"you do seem to like having my back, yeah."

Why was this so hard for him and so much easier for everyone else?

Raphael's palms were clammy, throat as dry as ever as he subconsciously started counting backward. They were in a foreign country, nobody was going to care what he and Aaron were doing in the back of some dimly lit karaoke bar in the middle of the night. If they even did anything – which was to say he wanted to do something – because even without the shots of sake liquid courage he had been thinking about… Well… Where Raphael's mind often went. 

He was young and the island was permission to tap into a part of himself that he had really… really neglected, and Aaron's fingers looked like they'd feel good… everywhere. It wasn't like Raphael would know what to do with them, in the dark of the Kentucky backroads it was kind of just – everywhere – until he and whoever he was with got theirs. 

But shit were Raphael's hands sweaty – was it hot in here? Scorching. A bit of steam rising from the glass that he was holding before the intrusive thought broke through his mind. It was probably rude to interrupt Aaron in the middle of his sentence, but all Raphael could think was: lips don't sweat. Leaning forward unceremoniously to plant his on the son of Apollo. 

Those hands, still unfortunately clammy, moved to the back of Aaron's neck to pull him closer, deeper. The worry that someone was watching immediately squelched by – yeah. Want. 

He'd been in the middle of discussing song choices, already considering what sort of show he might be able to put on in this environment, when he was fairly quickly made aware of the fact Raphael absolutely hadn't been listening. Or at east thought there was something better he could be doing with his mouth which, fair and valid. There wasn't any kind of argument given, or complaint offered. Instead, Aaron was quick to return the kiss. Leaning himself in closer, one hand already dropping to curl against Raphael's hip and hold him steady, while taking note of the heat that the son of the forge was radiating. Warm beneath his fingers unlike anything he'd felt before.

"That your way of saying I shouldn't be singing?" Aaron can't hide the grin in his voice when he pulls his head back. Eyes practically shining in the dim light as he looks to meet Raphael's for just a moment, before he was diving in to another kiss. Not his first time making out in the back of a bar... Not that he should have been in a lot of them before now.

out in the day, nadim looked relatively harmless. he's also somewhat sleepy, buzzing on whatever hopped-up coffee concoction he'd managed to get his hands on, with or without zach joining him on it. looking around, he does appreciate it -- but there's some guilt, there. here he is. being a tourist. rolling through what might be a delicate or protected area, like all those 'digital tourists' back in saskatchewan.

"just as long as we're...careful, you know?" uncharacteristically meek, elbow brushing zach's. hand bumping his, too, but he's not about to make any wild moves or assumptions. "don't wanna mess somethin this nice up."

"I'm pretty sure we're fine being here. They take it pretty seriously, looked up the garden rules before heading here just to make sure I didn't put my foot in it or anything." he really didn't need to fall in to any dumb tourist stereotypes. wasn't a great look. the light brush of the other's elbow against his own was noticed, adn after a moment?

zach was catching the other's hand. scarred digits adjusting until he could just... hold.