#ft;open

Safe to say, arriving to this sort of festivity wasn't quite what Gabriel has envisioned. He'd imagined heroic battles being fought in the training grounds, magic flying through the air, all sorts of wild storybook adventures. It wasn't what had been sold to the son of Hestia, but it was what he'd been envisioning when briefly told of the group. so, to be handed a letter inviting him to a wild night of debauchery in the son of revelry's cabin... It was a different picture, but he could go along with it. Maybe something had happened that prompted the need to fully let loose instead of restraining themselves.

Maybe they just wanted an excuse to party.

Despite the evident changes throughout the last few weeks, Galahad hadn't really seen much of a reason not to just... Treat the day as any other. Birthday or not, he was far more inclined to time in the company of the woods than anything else. It was late evening by the time he made it back, which meant time to unwind and just... Relax. Crashing down in the hot springs, eyes closed and letting himself think.

Or, well, the closest thing to thinking he did, which more involved going over what had happened and piece things together in his own way. A hum in his throat, eyes closed, taking in what he could and mostly unaware of his surroundings.

He'd killed somebody.

It wasn't until after everything had resolved, sorted everything out, that the thought coiled it's way through Calvin's head. He'd killed somebody. Not just... shunted them from the timeline until they could stop what they needed to. Not bashed and beaten but left alive. No he'd...

He'd sunk his blade in to somebody with the intent to kill because he'd taken one of their own. Sent him somewhere else, and he recognized enough to know it was similar to what the Son of Time could do to know it needed to be stopped.

Did it get easier with time? Did he want it to get easier?

there was a different sort of freedom here. at least, that was how it felt to jason. somewhere removed from what had happened, a lessened eye upon them. and while he would love to be enjoying the freedom offered by the lakeside, there were still eyes here. always. everywhere, everywhen. it's why, with the sun beginning to dip on the horizon, he chose his moment to slip away from the crowds and just... breathe. not linger on thoughts that had no place in his head for the next week. while it wouldn't be true freedom, he could take it as a breath of fresh air, maybe.

Training was largely proving to be something Gustave pursued under the cover of night and when there was as few people around as he could manage. Because it was a lot to be playing around with and he really needed to not accidentally course some form of... Honestly he didn't know exactly what could happen if he fucked up but there was the immediate mental image of accidentally triggering an orgy that he really didn't want to play around with.

Unfortunately that also meant he was mostly practicing the motions given her personable his talents happened to be. At least he was getting better at aiming them. Nothing to pull on for some, but the axe in his hand at least gave him something else to play with, and then came the easy insults.

Lovino stood there, arms crossed in front of him as he had closed his eyes. It was a slow afternoon inside the store. Little to no customers had came through and it left the young man bored out of his mind. Everything that he had in the back had been put out of the shelf and there was nothing left for him to do, nothing but sit there and wait. The sun seemed to be out and that normally kept people away. Who would want to be inside when you could be outside?

As he picked at the side of the counter, his ears perked up. Maybe this shift wouldn't be so boring after all. Keeping busy always seemed to make the day go by faster anyways. The Italian blinked as he glanced over at the door. "Oh, good afternoon." 

Amy loved working at the bookstore near her apartment. It was warm and cozy and smelled liked dusty paper and ink. She knew the history section like the back of her hand, the fantasy shelves like the back of her pinky, and the Utopian and Dystopian fiction like her thumb. She liked to think that she was well-read in her selection of books.

Though the shop had many pros, there was one con Amy just had a hard time getting used to: The shop closed near nine, and well, it was hard to not get sort of bored after five hours behind a counter, no matter how many books were in that store.