#crossrode

𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒 land   in   his   heart.   amid   vast   barrens   dedicated   to   the   dead   &&   ungrateful   (   &&   a   burning   pyre   in   his   core   ever   dedicated   to   his   father   )   hers   alone   is   where   respect   has   taken   root,   at   least   in   regards   to   the   divine.   speak   what   you   will   of   zeus,   he   will   happily   shit-talk   hera   with   you   —   but   do   not   disrespect   hecate   before   him.   she   who   bolstered   his   strength,   who   made   him   a   threat   to   his   father   if   only   for   a   few   blessed   moments   in   battle:   the   only   goddess   who   he   would   ever   call   family   &&   mean   it.    verso   is   a   creature   of   connection.   the   ire   he   feels   to   the   gods   drips   down   &&   coats   their   kids   —   but   in   this   circumstance,   it’s   respect   which   goes   to   her   spawn.   the   olive   branch   should   always   be   offered   to   her   children;   his   other   cousins   can   get   the   spear   as   his   greeting. this   being   said,   he   is   himself.   you   don’t   join   the   army   of   a   murderous   titan   &&   exchange   blows   with   your   divine   father   without   either   being   an   ass   beforehand   or   becoming   even   more   of   one   later.    case   &&   point:   verso   is   already   in   a   bad   mood.   the   fact   that   he   has   been   waiting   for   what   feels   like   an   eternity   for   some   kind   of   direction   is   pissing   him   off.   the   gods   are   usually   good   at   pointing   him   in   a   direction   &&   telling   him   to   go   find   someone,   go   do   something,   if   his   hands   are   idle   for   too   long.   it’s   been   a   week   since   his   last   outing   to   find   any   left-behind   strays   (   &&   he   brought   with   him   an   in-tact   child   of   demeter   whose   satyr   had,   evidently,   been   eaten   in   louisiana   )   though   and…   nothing. so   here   he   is,   eating   the   last   of   his   dinner   next   to   a   dragon   &&   the   tree   that   used   to   be   his   half-sister.   suffice   it   to   say   that   peleus   isn’t   a   great conversational   partner.    let   it   be   known:   he   would   rather   die   than   go   to   the   dining   pavilion.   he   would   rather   fight   zeus   a   thousand   times   over   than   eat   around   the   other   demigods.   he   isn’t   blind,   after   all,   he’s   seen   the   glances   they   give   him   in   their   peripherals.   he’s   noticed   the   way   they   tense   when   he’s   around.   heard   them   murmur   about   him.   a   traitor,   a   maniac,   heracles   two-point-oh.    verso   clicks   his   tongue.   he   twirls   a   plastic   knife   between   his   fingers.     their   distrust   has   bought   him   isolation.   he’s   trying   to   not   mind   it.    ( he’s   failing.   )

@crossrode // starter call !!

THREE WEEKS. three soul-agonizing weeks since kronos fell along with so many other demigods along with him. three weeks since HADES - her father - PUBLICLY claimed her - simultaneously revealing her position as his spy. there is relief that she doesn't have to hide who she truly is any longer - doesn't have to go by her DEAD name any longer. that peace is overshadowed by the guilt and grief over the deaths of those demigods - the pain from the healing stab wound on her side where alabaster drove his sword inside - all of it forced to become numb by a constant supply of whiskey.

it's an okay day - today. she only comes to camp to check on nico and check in with hecate's remaining children. neither went well - nico is still mad at her and vice versa. the children of hecate that were on kronos' side refuse to even acknowledge her entirely. elizabeth just about gave up when she noticed her mentor's favorite son

❝ BRIAR! ❞ she disappears into the shadows - only to materializes from the shadows beside him. desperation obvious in her posture, expression and voice. ❝ i need a favor. nothing dangerous or foolish. i-uh...❞ she forces herself to stop talking for a moment as her voice begins to crack.

@crossrode || starter call.

Nico might not have any skills with magic, but it doesn't take much to guess at the purpose of the blade--the rust-stained splattering of old blade, not to mention the bits caked into the crannies of the weapon that make it all too clear. It's a realization that chills Nico's gut, sending a shot of adrenaline down his spine that mingles uncomfortably in his gut.

But why is this here? Nico knows that Kronos has been pulling some of the other Titans out of Tartarus, giving them positions in his army poised to take over Mount Olympus. He knows demigods have been defecting to the cause as well, but he doesn't know of anyone who would work magic like this, Titan, demigod or otherwise. Memory of Mythomagic cards is thoroughly unhelpful here.

Styx and stones, where have they managed to find themselves?

"This is magic, right? You don't know anything?" he asks. He doesn't mean to sound accusatory but he probably does, tension making his voice sharp as his fingers curl into instinctive fists. And everything inside of him agrees that they should leave this place, new alarm bells ringing in the back of his head that he didn't even know he had.

“ Oi, Houdini ! ” Elodie jabs her index finger in Briar’s direction; a last-ditch attempt to snag his attention if the nickname alone doesn’t do the trick. “ Check this magic trick out. ” It’s a bold challenge to throw at a child of Hecate, and she knows it. Still, nothing can come between her and the commitment to a bit. A few seconds tick by so she can milk the pause, savoring the suspense the way she always does. Theatrics are an art form, after all.

" you   don't   take   the   bus   often,   do   you? "

he   doesn't   really   * know   briar   that   well   -   percy's   realizing   it   the   longer   they   wait,   the   sunrise   bleeding   through   the   manhattan   skyscrapers.   percy,   ( who   will   * NOT   be   telling   his   mom,   thanks! ),   has   a   large   espresso   in   his   hands,   sipping   on   it   as   he   tries   his   best   to   wake   up   for   the   day   ahead.

the   bus   tickets   are   safely   tucked   into   his   coat   pocket,   a   hand   resting   atop   the   pocket   with   his   ballpoint   pen   nestled   atop   them   for   * good   measure.   he   sips   his   espresso   again,   taking   larger   drinks   as   he   really   doesn't   feel   anything   quite   yet.   maybe   it's   not   strong   enough   for   him?   percy   doesn't   really   think   * too   hard   on   it.

percy's   brow   raises   at   that,   leaning   on   the   wall   as   he   thinks   over   briar's   comment.   of   course   he   had   something   to   hide   -   didn't   * all   of   the   halfbloods?   the   very   nature   of   their   existence   ( at   least   percy's   own   existence,   anyways   -   but   he   was   * certain   this   was   a   shared   experience   with   all   demigods )   was   a   secret   -   maybe   not   kept   from   the   child   themselves,   but   at   least   the   * larger   mortal   world.

there   was   also   the   little   things   -   the   more   * personal   things   that   simply   were   normal   to   hide,   things   that   everyone   carried   around   in   their   pocket   like   nobody   else   ever   shared   similar   woes   ( his   mom   said   it   was   normal ).   percy   almost   finds   the   question   a   * little   silly,   but   knows   there's   nothing   harmful   in   briar's   question;   it's   just   normal   curiosity.   he   didn't   know   the   other   camper   as   much   as   he   * wanted   to,   but   percy   got   a   general   sense   of   'good   vibes'   from   him.   there   was   always   the   future.