#sisselsgame

kian looks at the large, magnificent looking creatures with wide eyes. he’s ridden them once before, on his way here, which was strange enough and something he barely remembers. he was too busy trying not to look down and realizing that, if he lost his grip, he’d plummet to his death. he never wanted to go sky diving and falling from a winged creature isn’t the way he would do it if he wanted to. he looks over to joshua, remembering their meeting and how they stripped themselves almost bare to run into the water. now, he’s asking him to fly through the skies with him. “are you afraid of heights?” he asks him, looking from the pegasi and the few satyrs around that are helping people onto them. “or falling for that matter?” 

Asher was not really the outdoorsy type. Granted, being born and raised in the New York City, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone. Still, with the joyous music, the satyrs and fairies flitting around with their decorative floral jewelry and clothing, not to mention the mug and a half of wine he’d had already, he was feeling good. So if anyone asked, it was the wine buzz and the atmosphere that had him out in the middle of the field, with a pile of flowers strewn around him, still clad in his formal wear. What was more unexpected, was the fact that Josh of all people was there beside him. “I don’t think I’ve done anything like this since kindergarten,” he chuckled, though with the help of one of the fairies that had been wafting around the pair, he was managing. “How about you make mine, and I’ll make yours,” he smirked, his head already flooding with ideas.

barely on instagram, ivan only had a profile functional enough to make deals, track customers, put two and two together when someone was trying to give him the slip. he’d seen plenty of the flower crown things before. but he never thought he’d be on the receiving end.

@rldlnghood​

“come on, mystery man, i have an idea.” kian says as he walks up to ivan, eyes looking him up and down, trailing along the gold embellishments of his suit jacket. “didn’t think i’d see you outside of your hoodie.” the few times he’s seen the son of hestia, it’s always been in a hoodie. “this looks good on you.” he grins. “do you trust me?” it’s a loaded question considering they don’t know each other that well. “let’s go dance in the temple, an offering to our moms. we can pick some flowers on the way, maybe.” he shrugs his shoulders, waiting to see if ivan is going to turn him down or not. 

@tellmeinstorms​

the maze looks intimidating as ever. taller than three demigods stacked on top of one another with thorns that look as sharp as daggers. he doesn’t know why he picked credence to do this with but, after their spar and their spat, he thinks this might be as good a way as any to get to know him, to come to terms. his eyes shine a slight silver in the moon, the pathway hidden by the bushels of thorns and vines, but still easy enough for his own eyes to see. “you better think of a good secret to whisper when we get to the garden.” kian says, “nothing that’ll make me roll my eyes, got it?” 

“they say the maze keeps shifting. the faeries change it whenever people enter and keep changing it while they’re inside so no one goes the same path.” he looks over to lex, a newer demigod, even newer than him, that he hasn’t really talked with outside of a simple hello. but he figures this is as good as any to break the ice and see how they work together. “you ready?” he asks him, smiling a crescent moon of a smile toward the well built man. he’s lost his blazer—more like left it back at his room and will get it later—and stands there in his velvet fitted pants and tucked in mesh shirt. “don’t let anything kill me and i’ll see our way through this.” 

how so many gardens sprung up out of seemingly nowhere, ivan didn’t know. his curiosity (see: need for control) led him to some perimeter-walking, which led him to a grove of trees with long, wispy limbs, reaching up and then down again like an elderly woman’s hair. when he turned, he realized he wasn’t alone. the face was new. the name-god-house method of introduction was old.

with the evening seeming to last forever, ivan felt he had time beyond time to rub elbows with various others. the horse guy -- jude, memory supplied -- was looking as fine as ever, but as ivan made his approach, the air took on a certain scent. it was just enough warning before rain as light as mist began to fall almost lazily towards the ground. ivan swore and picked up the pace, throwing up a barrier of searing pink sparks to block the rain -- surprisingly, it seemed to work.

“get the fuck in here, that shit looks expensive!” he called out to jude, one hand raised as if he needed to keep the shield stronger somehow.