NICO ( @stygicniron ) said, “that’s not what i meant.” here / accepting
𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓. there is no alternative meaning the ex-soldier can think of, no metaphorical speech that can cover what the other has said in some poetic and kind meaning. no, nico said what he said, and now he’s backing down from it. verso has half a mind to SNEER that HADES would never back-track on his spoken word, but decides against it ONLY because he has no intention of spending his afterlife getting annoyed by his cousin’s spiteful memory.
he curls and uncurls his hands into fists. lightning crackles around his shoulders for a brief moment, sharing in the agitation of its master. the small darts of brilliant light are driven down into the sheaths of his xiphos, which shake from the force of the small storm’s entry. if he pulled them out now, verso wonders HOW LOUD they would scream. he doesn’t make a move to draw them, however.
he’s not THAT mad. NOT YET.
❝ nah, nah, come on now. don’t get shy NOW. ❞ verso cocks his head to the side and pulls his lips back into a deep snarl. ❝ say it again. i’m ALL ears. let’s hear it, GHOST PRINCE. ❞
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He remembered the day of the Great Betrayal as easily as his own day of hatching. The feeling of his sister, sharing the same egg as he. Her warmth, her light. A balance to his dark and cold. He remembered people, the ones that would bend a knee at his altar and offer tribute. And he in turn would bestow upon them his wisdoms, his powers.
But then they had betrayed them. Their beloved humans had betrayed him.
Sagittarius had, upon their great fall back to earth, been insistent that it had not been the little creatures they had once lived side by side in harmony with. That there had to be another explanation, but her heart had always been too soft to see the truth.
Scorpio exhaled slowly, a plume of frost dancing upwards into the snow covered trees. The twelve Celestials had made a makeshift lair within the face of a mountainside. Leo had found the cavern, a gaping maw with stalagmites like teeth sticking every which way. But the Eldest Brother had taken it upon himself to wander early this morning. Perhaps he would find something to eat, a wayward rabbit hiding in the snow or a buck trying to graze in these winter lands.
His spines rattled all along his back, wings tucked tightly to his sides. His tail, tipped in a wicked sting like a scorpion, was coiled around one of his back legs. The cold was his domain, his specialty. He closed his violet eyes, savoring the chill that crept down the back of his throat.
Then his senses were invaded by a smell. A smokey, black smell.
There were many gods in the world. More being born day after day, and while he had been banished before the rise of many of these deities, he was not so foolish as to not educate himself as best he could in who now ruled over mortal lives.
“A child of Hades.” Scorpio grunted, turning slowly. Pupils slitted, trying to pinpoint the precise location that the stranger had been watching him from. Had he been observed this entire time? With a sickening rattling sound, his tail unfurled and arched over his back, a bead of venom appearing at the pointed tip.
@stygicniron asked: reverse + 🗡️ (if you're still taking these!)
Send 🗡 to hold a blade to my muse's throat for their reaction! Alternatively, send 'reverse + 🗡' for my muse (receiver) to hold a blade to your muse's throat
Tarre is a Mandalorian, and a very Mandalorian one. And before that, he was a Jedi: it all means that threatening a youth is the last thing he likes to do.
It's also the best way to, right now, get them both out of prying eyes. So he moves, faster than a man in armor should, and the knife is small and beskar and clear, even though he lets reassurance bleed into the Force, between them: he can sense enough.
"We are being watched, and there are at least three other bounty hunters on your track." He warns him, his voice a whisper. "If you want to live, come with me, and you have my word you will be alright."
oh gosh, do i have things to say about rito cuisine and how it is indicative of their lifestyle in both traditional ingredients used, method of preparation, and the actual dining process! in relation to comfort foods specifically, as an exceptionally hardy people living in an environment that isn't exactly high-yielding in most seasons unless you work for it, a lot of the dishes that Peaks Among the Ripples' flock tend to associate with nostalgic heartiness contain the same or similar ingredients — they maximise the use of everything they gather and hunt, ensuring that no part goes wasted! the most common factor outside of spices and seasonings, in this case, is fish! hearty salmon in particular; real great source of protein :]
braised claypot fish is a recipe you'll find that at least someone who can cook in every nest knows how to make. even revali knew how to make this ( though he wasn't patient enough for it half of the time pre-botw, so his would probably be on the lower end of the list of dishes you'd want to try )! a slow-cooked meal of caramelised salmon soaked in a thick, savoury ( and oftentimes spicy ) marinade while it's braised, the flavour is a bold mix of sweet and salty. the type of cut usually used is steak-cuts ( the other parts are reserved for sauces or other dishes ), and because the fish is cooked for so long on a lower heat, it's also super tender! as with most rito food, it's not typically served on its own when eating is so communal an activity; it usually comes with a milder soup and some bread.
sweet-and-sour soup makes use of the whole ( cleaned ) fish: head, tail, guts, and all! it stands out from most of their other soups due to its wider range of ingredients and stronger, like-a-punch-to-the-tongue ( affectionate ) flavouring, which mostly comes from the zesty spice of the broth, the tarty sweetness of the pineapples, and the sourness of fresh tomatoes. the important parts that make up this flavour profile ( as you can sort of tell ) come through trade, often with visiting flocks or mercantile rito from other flocks with homelands. that this dish is so popular and widely considered a comfort food is reflective of the importance they place on tight relations with each other as a collective people in general — you really won't find any rito who doesn't enjoy at least one aspect of this dish when it's warming to the core and delicious even if you don't want to eat the fish! this can be enjoyed as a fully realised dish with a bowl of millet or rice, or in a hotpot-esque style during celebrations or Gatherings.
rito rice porridge is a savoury must-have when you're sick according to most parents, who inherited this opinion from their parents. with its subtle flavour, smooth body, and how reminiscent it is of what hatchlings would eat in their first months in texture, it's easy to swallow, digest, and keep down — so they're not completely wrong! it can be served as plain porridge, but most of the time it's eaten with salmon flakes or shredded duck. sometimes, it's also cooked with duck offal for a deeper umami touch.
with the rito term for it literally translating to sweet soup, it's probably easy to tell what the dish talked about here is. a simple millet-based, gelatinous dessert that can be served hot or cold, this is also a recipe that is fairly ubiquitous — if only because of how easy it is to make. it helps that it's something that can be eaten at whatever temperature you so desire! easy to make, easy to serve, easy to eat; a lovely treat favoured among chickies and the ones who have to make it for 'em alike :]
and these are just some of the dishes that a majority of the rito from Peaks Among the Ripples' might pinpoint as their comfort dishes if asked, because it really does all boil down to their personal preferences and how they were raised! ( this also isn't to say that dishes like moose stew aren't a thing on their menu, but the fact of the matter is that fish are simply more readily available and don't exactly take as long to reproduce and raise their young to balance out what's been taken. )
tulin and molli share the same preferred comfort food of fish wrapped in fig leaves. these are more side-dishes or appetisers than anything, but you can't beat 'em when they're grilled and served like little bundles of flavour on a skewer! saki's are the best in the world!
kido will always feel some form of better after eating frozen wildberries. which is literally just a snack among the many that the rito have as people who are often away from a cooking pot, but what can he say? frozen wildberries were what the grownups gave him all the time to tide him over on all the flights home when he'd be found on his hopeless search-and-rescue missions for his dad as a young fledgling, so there's a very, very subliminal and underlying relief of i haven't been lost there.
as a travelling fella who doesn't get to eat home-cooked meals often, penn tends to always find himself missing the rito pancakes from his youth. these are not sweet! they're thin pieces of wheat-and-rice batter folded over a savoury filling, which typically includes seafood ( salmon for Peaks Among the Ripples ) of some kind as the primary 'meat', so to say. he's so glad he's able to taste them again, even if it's not the exact same, once he returns to hyrule!
dineli is a simple man. sweet-and-sour soup is his comfort food, as a dish he'd eat the most in his childhood: lovingly made and offered to him and his mother by those who did their best to support them back then.
revali would tell you something along the lines of 'all of the above and more' if he was inclined to actually answering, because he loves his people and is proud of everything they have to offer. but his real choice would be rice porridge — especially when it's topped with copious amounts of duck and ginger. a childhood classic for him, he definitely chokes up over it when it's the first genuine dish he gets to taste again after a century of being sealed in his divine beast ( given his, uhhh, condition at the time ), but you didn't hear that from me.
"agh! you really need to learn not to sneak up on people." not that nico had been all that subtle, but hermes would much rather blame his temporary fright on the scrawny son of hades than his own jumpy temperament. "i spend enough time around the souls of the dead - which can be creepy on a good day. the last thing i need is you roaming around down here giving me the heebie-"
hermes paused, head cocking curiously. "say... you wouldn't happen to be interested in putting that talent to use, would you?"
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She doesn't even know what compelled her to want to hurt him in the first place when she doesn't know who he is. Only... she does know who he is. She must. The moment she entered the room, as soon as she saw him laying there, she was struck by such a cacophony of emotion that it made her physically recoil. Her knife was in her hands and then at his throat and she is sure that it is wrong but she can't seem to stop.
The sound of his voice pulls a noise out of her own throat, a confused and strangled little thing that doesn't quite form into anything helpful. She is struck again by that horrible too-much feeling of blind emotion. She only wishes she could identify what that emotion is.
Cautiously, fearfully, she pulls back just enough that the metal of her blade is no longer pressing at his skin. Without the point of contact her hands shake further. Guilt presses against her stomach and then her throat, determined to nauseate her, and she presses back just as hard.
Words bubble up and dissipate. What question could she possibly ask?
@stygicniron said, a ghost town baking under the sun. / location prompts, accepting
ᯓ☆ christ almighty, THIS is why she doesn’t like going to hot places. THIS is why she prefers it when forces beyond her comprehension (read as: CHIRON, sometimes the new oracle, most of the time nobody in particular) nudge her to the EAST instead of the west; the east coast is never quite as badly SCORCHED as its western sister. the east coast has rainshowers and dreary mornings, winters that bury towns and summers that only OCCASIONALLY cross into insufferable territory.
she wipes beads of sweat off from her temple with the back of her hand. the sun hasn’t lessened up since last week, rain hasn’t dropped in on the ghost town… and really, since nobody lives here, lavender has half a mind to just call it a FREAK SURGE of harsh heat. alas, nobody living here is exactly the problem. spirits hold all sorts of useful information, after all.
apollo doesn’t do scorched earth for no reason. the sun’s focus is here with a purpose. it’s her job to figure out what that purpose is.
… at least, it was SUPPOSED to be her job.
lo and behold, she’s no longer alone in the dingy cowboy-era NOTHING-BURGER town. the company would be a welcome relief if it didn’t take the form of the son of hades, honestly. not that lavender has anything SPECIFIC against him, of course. nothing she’s willing to say or grumble about aloud, anyhow.
she hops up onto one of the many rounded tables scattered about inside the town’s inn. if it weren’t for the lack of cameras, the town and its skeleton-interior buildings would make a convincing set for any good western. with her legs crossed and her chin resting in on hand, LAVENDER could play a convincing damsel in need, too; her horns are hidden away under a sunhat, one bought in the same vibrant shade of yellow as her sundress and matching shoes. the basilisk around her waist forms a convincing belt, if one can ignore the way it occasionally
then she opens her mouth, and any illusion of grace or politeness not only leaves, but slams the door shut on its way out.
❝ alrighty, prince of skeletons, ghosts, shadows, shades, and all things MENACING, ❞ lavender begins, drumming the too-sharp nails on her free hand against the side of her perch. ❝ why were YOU sent up here, huh ?? don’t kids like you normally HATE hot places ?? ❞
“so,” not the greatest start of this conversation, but percy has never been KNOWN for his tact. and what better time to bring this up, than now, when the fight is behind them, and it feels like, for once, they can all breathe? sure, leo is missing, and they have a bunch of different problems, but no WAR, and now, for once, nico has no reason to LIE to percy. so yes, they need to talk about this. NOW.
“were you ever going to tell me about who i am?” a step forward, brows furrowed, as a flash of offense ripples across his face. “because, i dunno, seemed like you were real happy to let me just forget everything about before.” another step, and that flash of irritation is no longer just a flash.
it’s a warning on his face, as he relieves the hurt, and remembers just exactly what would have happened if nico di angelo ‘followed instructions given to him by the gods’ and GODS, what a shitty excuse! since when did this kid ever listen? last percy checked, he was more than happy to do whatever he wanted, WHEN he wanted! another step, into his personal space, and his own arms cross against his chest, and the difference in their size is enough for passersby to slow down, and stare, as a confrontation between children of the big three looms overhead.
