#halfjudas

Welcome to scenic Isola Radiale, Lancelot!

You will be housed in TOWNHOUSE 249.

You will retain your magic resistance and receive a wooden sword.

"Sir Lancelot, it is good to see you. How thankful I am that the environment could be so peaceful for us to meet again”. an ache on her tongue, when thinking back to the anarchy of their reunions past, in desperation not to sour their chance where finally they could be without conflict hanging over their heads.

          "Um, I have a question for you,"

     Her voice wavers ever slightly, for something weighed on her mind. Perhaps it was silly, thinking about her future as a hero while being brought to a city like this. Meeting all sorts of people, even heroes hailing from other worlds, it made her wonder: from where did they draw their determination? Their will to press forward?

     Could her own reasons for wanting to be a hero even be compared to theirs?

The past two years felt like a blur  ---  three times over, taken  (  not returned  ).  Percy never thought that he’d feel homesick for camp; gods tucked away on Olympus sorely missed.  Strange, that in hindsight he would kill to be on another quest.  But hindsight was 20 / 20 they say, and it was not as if the demigod had any control over the situation.  Trying to cultivate some control over the outcome.  

Resting on the ruins of some long-forgotten building, staring out past the broken walls to the coastline far ahead  (  closing his eyes, he could almost pretend he was home  ).  The smell of summer strawberries, the rustle of dryads  ---  none of that was present here.  There were no pegasi just up the hill, no naiads watching from the water.  The ring of celestial bronze from the area nothing but a slowly disappearing memory.  

It wasn’t like this was the first time.

Percy could distinctly remember the first  ---  funny, when that was the time of his life where he had no memories at all  ---  racing against the monsters on his tail.  Dropped into Lupa’s clutches, sent off to face down Rome.  Mere months later yet again snatched from the known and left  (  powerless  )  in a city beyond the gods.

Third time.  This was the third time.

Angrily chucking a bit of debris as far as it could go, annoyance written all over his face.  Even here he could tell home was so utterly far away.  At first had been a bit of hope  !!  this was an island, of course, and that meant water.  Lots of water.  Lots of ocean.  If nothing else this should have been what he knew  !!  instead it felt like another dimension, the crash of waves all but a foreign language.  The mists farther out proving that all too readily  (  again and again it sent him back  )  as the water almost laughed.  Beyond the gods again  ---  what did he expect.  Flash of green in the dying light  (  behind him, somewhere, was the pit  ).  Part of him understood it was desperation; mind slowly forgetting what home even looked like.  He didn’t want to be fighting to recall Annabeth’s face, he didn’t want to remember that he hadn’t spoken to his mom is what felt like forever  (  bitter tears a threat at the memory of a voicemail  ).  Percy just wanted to sulk.