#mossgr0ve

He leans back into his chair, cradling his drink in between gloved hands. The night had gone by too quickly, full of jokes & good company. As the night passed before them, the tavern they had inhabited was beginning to empty. The corner table they had nestled in was feeling more personal by the moment. With all the noise gone, it was easier to think, to get swept up in sentiment & linger on the mistakes that stained their hands.

It was hard to imagine Pike with shaking hands when those hands wrought so much life. Pike was a grounding presence, a literal light in the darkness… but all light casted shadows. It's daunting to be presented with her truth, though he cannot help but revel in the fact that he's trusted with it.

He wants desperately to reach out, to comfort her, but it was not in his nature. Percy's heartbeats feel too tight as he turns her words over in his head, each ' thump agonizingly slow as he chooses his words. His instinct is to push, to avoid the emotions woven into the divulgence. He could dance around the words, he could shift the subject & look to something easier to chew on until they too filtered out of the tavern. But he won't disrespect her like that, despite his instinctual aversion to sentiment.

Even now, he sees it in her eyes. That light that dances in them relentlessly, the shadows that linger beyond. Percy thinks Pike may have the deepest understanding of life & death out of all of their friends. Sure, they were all well-acquainted with the concept. But she knew what it was to give life, take life, lose life. It would change anyone by the end of it.

Perhaps if she felt anything like he did, she knew how those concepts could tangle uncomfortably. She had to sift through the threads of good & evil & make that choice. It was one she seemed relentless in, unstoppable in her quest to be better than she was yesterday & the day before. Determination aside, they were still prone to mistakes.

Mistakes could make a man, but Pike was better than any man Percy had ever known.

" Clumsy or not, those hands do an awful lot of good. " Percy peers over the rim of his drink, taking a sip to wash down his aversion to emotion. Percy didn't have the most reliable philosophy on good…but he tried to be when circumstances allowed it. Good was just fine when the opportunity presented itself, but it was hardly his priority. But Pike tried, even when it was hard. Even when she couldn't be. That was more than Percy could say about himself. Those instances didn't change her at her core. She was a rock, an anchor, an unstoppable force in an unyielding world. maybe he's getting a bit sappy, maybe the drinks are hitting him a bit harder than he expected.

@mossgr0ve // blake

@mossgr0ve // dio

ㅤhe stands with a slight groan, wiping his hands on his jeans as he rises. the work wasn't as easy as it once had been, but it felt good to do something that his hands knew long before they ever knew death. fixing up the shed behind the house was quite the project, but he was just about willing to do anything to make jackson feel like home. for her. today's project? insulation: the fall breeze was growing colder each day. " well, what d ' ya think, kiddo? still sure this is what you want? " if it sounds condescending, he doesn't consciously mean it.

@mossgr0ve liked for a starter . . . for ellie !

Percy had been in his workshop since the break of dawn. it made sense to him, it was hot in the summer & it was better to utilize the coolest parts of the day. The issue with this strategy is that it left quite a bit of time to slip through Percy's fingers. Keeping track of bodily needs or time became secondary to whatever task he'd set for himself. Even more so when he hits a creative wall. When Scanlan enters his workshop, Percy is hunched over a dozen different designs. The failed attempts at assembling them were scattered in frustration. Percy is covered in charcoal & his hair sticks up at several odd angles. He probably looks insane, though that's nothing new.

The crease between his brows falls, his previous expression breaking for the first time in several hours. His irritation melts away with the condensation on the glass Scanlan has in his hand. Moments like this tend to strike Percy a bit harder than he expects. There was something deeply personal about passive care. The thought that Scanlan had thought to look out for him wrought an earnest wave of appreciation from Percy. He swallows his sentimentality with a dry mouth, taking the glass when offered.

" For me? You shouldn't have, " despite his gratitude, light sarcasm dances in between his words. The heat around him is more apparent when there is a wave of relief from the cool glass in his hand. He resists the urge to sniff at the sheet of sweat that he's beginning to become aware of, instead opting to take a sip of water. Well, it was meant to be a sip. Percy barely registers emptying the glass.

Maybe he ought to get out more. maybe he's fighting the urge to turn his attention back to the designs sprawled out on his desk, the half-finished contraptions calling his name. But the water's call is louder. He remembers to wipe his mouth.

@mossgr0ve​.  *