#kronosarmys

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓   time   he   flew,   he   was   fourteen.   it   is   perhaps   a   stretch   to   call   it   flying,   looking   back;   verso   was   far   from   as   skilled   with   the   art   as   he   is   now,   &&   effectively   used   it   as   nothing   more   than   a   way   to   avoid   becoming   a   pancake   after   underestimating   the   distance   between   a   rooftop   &&   the   concrete   down   below.   he   struggles   to   recall   the   exact   cause   of   the   event   beyond   it   being   in   one   of   the   west-coast   cities,   &&     that   he   had   done   something   or   other   to   upset   a   local   gang.   the   air   had   caught   him   on   the   way   down,   though,   &&   eased   him   to   a   skidding   halt.    now   when   the   air   lifts   him,   it   deposits      him   firmly   on   the   deck   of   the   docked   andromeda.   the   large   duffle-bag   over   his   shoulders   is   filled   to   the   brim   with   materials   sought   by   the   more   magically   inclined,   herbs   &&   the   like   which   they   could   not   grow   aboard   the   cruise   ship   for   one   reason   or   another.   there’s   a   tension   in   his   shoulders   as   his   combat   boots   touch   down.   a   stranger   lurks,   one   he   has   never   met,   yet   one   who   shares   divinity   with   him;   he   seeks   her,   calling   out   as   he   tosses   the   bag   to   a   waiting   demigod   to   carry   below   deck, ❝   where   the   hell’s   my   half-sister   ??   ❞

@kronosarmys ( thalia ) // starter call !!