#ixmxgod

"Oh wow, really? Well, I don't remember asking you to do that!"

"Well, isn't someone all doom and gloom today." Aine said, she punched Zagreus in the arm lightly. "Lighten up. Yes, everyone is capable of evil, but people don't typically think about it all the time. My father says it's bad luck to dwell on stuff like this."

SENTENCE MEME ⟶ WHY WOMEN KILL / 1.01

"I didn't want anyone to see me like this, Harry. Being weak like this is not a good look for me, but if you must know I still have dozens of small shards of iron in my back according to my mother." Aine said, as she laid in her plush bed. She hadn't left her mother's home in almost a full week and had been refusing visitors due to the pain the metal was causing her.

Bex didn’t whimper - he’d been in plenty of fights. The one on the ship had been quite enthusiastic, with the plank out and in use for the first time, as far as he knew. This felt different. Like his skin was really on the line, and not as a side bar that might get hurt in the mix up of things. He swallowed once, watching Harry intervene.

His aggressor had been going on for a while now, far too much talk about all the things wrong with Bex, his face, his own mocking starlight and shiny insults thrown in while Bex’s arm was aching with a hand print bruise forming from how tight the man had squeezed him. His knuckles were just as cut up from the punches he’d thrown, knees scuffed from the hell he’d tried to give.

He just didn’t expect Harry to cut in.

“Can-“ He tried to tug his arm free. “Can we just go?”

“Our parents are insane for trying this,” Bex said. His hips were dropped back against a kitchen counter, one ankle crossed over the other as he leaned back and arms just as crossed over his chest. “But... I’m not the worst to be around, for what it’s worth.”

Bex blinked in surprise. Moments ago, his gaze had been filled with one of the Coachman’s sons, namely Charlie. Tall, bulky Charlie with breath like sardines. Bex’s back was pressed tight against the alley wall, he could feel moldy brick digging into his hair and thought Charlie’s nose was far too close right until he saw that hook cut into his vision.

“... Harry?” He asked in surprise.

Bex slowly lowered the serving tray. He wasn’t officially on staff at the Chip Shop, didn’t often act as a server. It was a once in a bloom moon sort of thing, once in a desperate blue moon. Mostly because of things like this.

He’d never told Harry about the way some people acted when he was serving them, but Harry must have overheard the things they said. Shame burned in his ears as he hid behind the wall of the kitchen. He curled a hand to his chest, the tray flat against his body as he did. He shouldn’t let these things get to him. He really shouldn’t. The thing was, he had been having fun. Harry was fun, and wait staffing at the Chip Shop had a certain comradery to it. Uma cared about her crew, and it was an intense, strange sort of feeling. Now Harry knew, and he felt it melting down all around him.

“Sorry,” He said to Uma. “I uh. I think I want to dip out, if that’s okay.”

It wasn’t a big deal at all, thankfully, and before long, he was tucking up the kick stand of his rickety bike, trying to feel a little stronger than needing Harry to yell at his problems implied.