HOLY BLED

" you sure you wanna go through with this? " it isn't a question asked with doubt in the other's capabilities, so much it is of their desperation. was this the right move, right now? or was the urgency of the situation pushing them headlong into muddled waters, despite being unaware of what lurks beneath the surface?

" well, it's either that or continue walking around in this swamp. " there was something... DEEPLY unsettling with not being able to see what was hiding in murky water ; a grotesque monster with sharp teeth, a dark shadow slithering around them, faintly touching their legs for a mere second, bones that have been swallowed by the mud. the thought of what MAY lurk beneath sent a shiver down her spine. the daughter of aphrodite wanted nothing more than to leave this place but still the question managed to escape her. " unless you have another idea? "

THREE YEARS in tartarus. three goddamn years. and all he had to show for it was a bunch of dead kids.

#𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑴𝑭𝑹𝑬𝑬: an independent && highly selective original character based in the riordanverse. a child of zeus cast to tartarus in an amphora back during the throes of world war two ( a rebel before rebels, the would-be usurper prince ) then fished from the depths by kronos himself. yet another failed rebellion later, here he sits upon a throne of failure — the gods favorite mutt. a study in surviving after the narrative // the failures that've bore you // generational scarring. as struck down by tally (he / it, 25). art commissioned from tarosin666.

" hey   man,   you're   not   late   at   all.   it's   just   another   day   of   getting   ready   for   capture   the   flag   -   annabeth   gave   me   some   points   for   a   strategy,   but   i   wanted   to   get   your   opinion   too.   i'm   not   bad   at   any   strategy,   but   you're   better   than   me.   at   least   i'm   * pretty   sure. "

there was laughter but it wasn't the joyous kind. it sounded estranged. hollow. " man, i hope you know that i'm NOTHING like annabeth. " the two children of athena couldn't be any more different. annabeth had put their divine mother on a pedestal. she respected her. looked up to her. dante was the exact opposite. he wouldn't hesitate to kneecap her (was that even possible? with her being a goddess and all?).

" i   mean   -   yeah.   y'did.   all   those   guys   are   all   dead,   and   won't   be   reviving   any   time   soon. "

percy   nods.   riptide   is   flicked   as   monster   goo   falls   off   the   blade,   frowning   slightly   as   he   notices   it's   rather   sticky.   he   fixes   elijah   with   a   raise   of   his   brow,   before   turning   back   to   the   other   demigod.   he   points   up   ahead   to   the   small   flock   of   monsters   now   coming   back   for   more   blood.

" hope they rot in tartarus for a long time. at least longer than usual. " blood STAINED the laurel wreath on his shield, painting it red. elijah struck the earth with his spear so he could have one hand free. he tried to wipe away some of the red colour from his face. adrenaline still filled his body and mind. gods, he loved the feeling. and it ALMOST became too much when those green eyes followed the movement of the other's sword and caught sight of the approaching monsters.

if you are sending to a multi-muse, remember to specify the muse that the questions are being sent for . feel free to edit these as you see fit .

🌟 What’s something small they did as a child that hinted at who they’d become?

❤️ Who is the one person they’d drop everything for, no questions asked?

💔 What’s the one wound (physical / emotional) they’ll never fully recover from?

🗡️ What’s their “I’ve killed for less” trigger?

☀️ What’s their happiest childhood memory?

🌧️ What kind of weather matches their soul?

🍽️ What meal do they cook when they need to feel like themselves again?

🎶 What song instantly makes them emotional & why?

🌙 Do they sleep peacefully / fight nightmares every night?

🔒 What’s a secret they’ll take to their grave?

🪞 What do they secretly hate about their own appearance?

💪 What random skill are they weirdly proud of?

👶 Baby picture of them - what’s the most embarrassing thing about it?

🏠 Describe their home when no one’s watching—messy, spotless, chaotic cozy?

😭 What always makes them cry, even if they hate admitting it?

😂 What’s the dumbest thing they’ve ever laughed at for way too long?

🧸 Do they still have a childhood comfort object? Where is it now?

✏️ What nickname do they secretly love being called?

⚔️ How do they act when they’re furious but have to stay polite?

🩸 What’s the worst injury they’ve ever had & the story behind it?

🕊️ What would instantly calm them down in a panic attack?

🔥 What’s something they’d burn the world down to protect?

🌹 What scent reminds them of the person they loved/love most?

🪥 What’s their most oddly specific daily routine?

💔 What’s the one apology they’re still waiting for that’ll never come?

🃏 Are they the type to forgive / hold a grudge until the end of the universe?

🌌 What’s their biggest “what if” that keeps them up at night?

🦋 What was their “I’m not a kid anymore” moment?

🎭 Do they wear a mask in public? What’s the real them like underneath?

🧳 If they had to leave home forever with only one bag, what do they pack?

🌑 What’s the darkest thought they’ve ever had about themselves?

☕ What’s their comfort drink?

🖤 What’s a “villain” trait they actually possess?

🤝 Who is the one person they never want to disappoint?

🎁 What gift would utterly destroy them (in a good / bad way)?

🩹 How do they react when someone they love is hurt?

🌅 Are they a sunrise / sunset person - what do they think about while looking at their favorite?

🧣 What texture/clothing item makes them feel safe?

🦉 What piece of advice do they give everyone but never follow themselves?

🔪 What’s the most violent thing they’ve ever done for love / survival?

🦋 What seemingly insignificant memory do they cherish the most?

🌹 What is their love language & how badly do they need it right now?

🪨 What’s the hardest choice they’ve ever made?

🧋 What food/drink do they hate that everyone else loves?

🕰️ If they could relive one day of their life, which would it be?

👑 In their own story, are they the hero / villain / someone else entirely?

🌡️ What temperature do they keep their home at & why?

🧸 What would their younger self think of them now?

💌 What’s the letter / text they’ll never send?

It was cooler down below, away from the sun and shadowed from the sustained nuclear heat that even got the Commonwealth in its grip at times. But it was also risky. His vertibird parked up top the massive parking structure, the second Lancer standing guard ( more so probably taking a nap, all things considered ) waiting for their Paladin troop to return from recon. Jacob had walked down a level or two, wondering if there was anything of interest in the abandoned corridors. Filled with nothing but rusted out pre-war cars, skeletons of bygones past that mattered very little nowadays, and rubble he kicked over with the toe of his boot to inspect.

Nothing jumped out at him as something to pick up, even if there was a box or two of Sugar Bombs in a rotted bag next to a skeleton in a pink dress. Jacob's head cocked to the side as he looked down at what a story this must have been, before a scrape of a footstep echoed across the concrete structure.

It was no rubble falling, nor could it have been a feral ghoul. They were louder than that. More ... shambling than sure.

His head picked up slightly, as one of his hands inched to the pistol at his side. He was no Paladin in Power Armor, nor was he a Knight, but just the same as any other member of the Brotherhood of Steel, one knew how to shoot no matter if their job was with the pen or high up in the sky, looking down on the world like it was something tiny to pick up. Jacob's boot slid a little to the right, moving himself away from the skeleton, and back towards the cover of the car.

Sometimes, the best thing to do was to watch and wait.

Yet there was nothing more. The scrape seemed but a ghost against the dusty air. Jacob's hand relaxed a little, yet he did not leave the safety of the shadows. Instead, slowly, he laid a hand over the speaker of his radio to silence any idle chatter, allowing the silence to reign even louder. Almost straining his ears to hear anything else out of the normal for such a place.

With a narrow of his eyes, he almost thought he was alone.

not even in here she could escape them. lea wanted to scream. to punch something. SOMEONE. frustration and anger washed over her like a great wave. a tsunami. she took a deep breath, filling her lungs with oxygen, trying to calm herself. the situation had changed. her little hunt for scraps had been changed to a different kind of hunt. she saw it as her mission to kill these godforsaken men in tin cans whenever they stumbled into her path. being in her way. it was personal REVENGE. blood for blood. and she needed her mind to be clear. she needed to be smart about this if she wanted them dead and be able to live another day to tell the tale.

the ragged woman turned of her pip-boy, not wanting to draw unwanted attention to herself. carefully, she took out her sniper rifle and began to move through the endless shadows. the darkness didn't scare her. it had been a part of her since THAT day. she wore it everyday inside her heart. inside her mind. despite moving quietly and cautiously, her light green eyes had missed the old newspaper on the ground, right in front of her. it felt like a bomb exploded the moment her worn leather boot stepped on it. her heart began to race, drumming in her ears. lea cursed herself for creating a noise. she sincerely hoped that no one had heard it. she wouldn't die today. she refused.