#thread 005

Athena’s message had put a smile on his face at first, the prospect of spending time with one of his oldest friends a welcome reprieve, but as Icarus makes his way home from the agora the tension in his brow increases with every step. The lying, pretending to be something  —  someone  —  he’s not is bad enough when it’s with people who matter less, other members of the Quorum or lobbyists or businessmen each with their own agenda, but Athena is his friend. Athena is also Zeus Rhea’s daughter, however, and now a close colleague in her role as a correspondent for Nemean News, and both of those things make lying to her difficult and dangerous. It’s the friendship that makes it painful, though, the friendship that makes him consider wrapping up the delicate box of rose-flavored macarons and sending it to her with an excuse about a headache and an apology.

But that will only delay the inevitable; he’s going to have to see her some time, and frankly it’s a miracle it hasn’t happened already, so Icarus shrugs off his jacket and programs the kettle to boil just before 2pm. The intervening thirty minutes are spent freshening up, a change of clothes essential to the performance he’s going to have to put on. It isn’t all her fault, but he does have to credit Dion’s influence for the way he now uses clothing  —  as a costume, a way to prime people’s expectations or throw them out the window, a reminder to himself of the character he has to play.

Icarus is ready at five minutes to two, kettle bubbling quietly in the kitchen and cookies laid out on a plate - an unnecessary gesture, he knows, since Thena never minds pulling them straight from the box, but he’d needed something to do with his hands. Then there’s a knock at the door and the curtain goes up; welcome to the show.

☓ She was surprised. The munchkin was usually so independent and determined to go his own way. Maybe she was just overreacting, but to her, this meant the world. This simple question could mean one and o n l y one thing. ☓

☓ He trusted her. ☓

❝Well, I’ve heard the strawberry creampuffs here are very good. To be quite honest, I’ve never eaten here before myself.❞

☓ She blushed and pretended to fix her headband. After looking down for just a moment or two, as to not cause any discomfort to her date, she tried to look Boq in the eye. ☓

❝Boq? Can I ask you a question?❞

' gonna burn this damn city to the ground when i get my power back. '

she was complaining out loud at this point, but even then if given the chance to get even for kidnapping her she would. it's only been a few days since she arrived, and she was only getting more agitated as time passed. she had finally run into several other servants and managed to get a better idea of the city itself, but its purpose still alluded her and the thought of being powerless to do anything irked her to no end.

“...”

Frankenstein couldn’t help but stare at the creature that was staring back at her. Landing around the university, she couldn’t help but find it curious to stare at the shark mascot that didn’t seem to be moving. It was just standing in place, as if it was staring right to her. What did this mean? Did the creature not know how to speak? Did it not know how to communicate? It could move, but so far it hasn’t said a single word. Maybe she should start.

“U.... Uuhu. Uuu! ...” 

derflugeldesengels:

“Do I…?” Had he been making another sour expression? It was a habit he picked up from his dad. Maybe it was true. His only friends were animals. “Hm. Are you hungry?” He was already up and moving to find a sweet shop.

“You certainly seemed that way, apologies if I assumed anything.” It was just a simple way to open a conversation, and as far as Fyodor was concerned, it worked just fine.