#undyingvik

the casino is starting to empty and gideon figures that’s as good as time as any to head back to the pali house. he’s had his fun, now it’s time to sleep and pray that ambrosia doesn’t bring nightmares like the first time—or that he doesn’t have the nastiest hangover he’s had since drinking it the first time. he’s just walking along, minding his own business when he sees it: a man face down in the fountain. “the fuck?” he says out loud, looking over his shoulders to see if anyone else is coming. nope, no one. he thinks for a minute on just leaving him, but knows that’d be a shitty move considering most of them probably drank their weight in ambrosia. he jogs over to the fountain and, using his new found strength, attempts to turn the man over so he’s not swallowing the fountain water—and to see if he’s dead or not.

“jesus fuck.” kian stops in his tracks when he notices the lumbering man with the jason mask, makeshift machete held firmly in his grip. hazel eyes glint silver as they adjust to the darkness that the candlelight doesn’t extinguish and focuses on the large expanse of his chest, the way the pants cling to muscled thighs. he gulps and grins, grabbing two shot glasses and a bottle of halloween colored ambrosia before he walks over toward viktor. it’s obviously him, no one else is quite built like the son of the sea and earthquakes (fitting since he knows he makes plenty of boys quake). 

”Hey!” Hudson raised his hands up as he strolled over, delighted to see the giant wall of tattooed muscle. “You aren’t missing any limbs!” he noted, relief evident in his voice.”Would you be offended if I used you as a washing machine?" he points to stained pants and grimy boots. “I’m kidding!” He says quickly. “The pants are getting binned as soon as I find my stuff. Would be nice to clean out my boots, though.” Clearing his throat, Hudson inspects the bruises and and scratches littered across Viktor from a safe distance. “So, uh, what happened to the camp?”

the transition from the green tinted waters, the specks of vibrant color that flickered beneath the waves, along the cavern walls, to the barren, ash-grey tones of undertown is almost enough to give him whiplash. 

almost. 

in the distance, he sees the fading lights of a carnival. around him, he sees the dilapidated houses that look like they’re on their last life. fitting, considering they’re in the underworld. 

with the swords sheathed and the seed secured, he steps from the boat, his arms wrapped over his chest as if to keep himself from spilling out. droplets of blood have dried against his earlobes from the deafening screech of the metal clang, thick, red, finger-shaped bruises wrap around his throat like a necklace—fiery red, glaring. 

he sees those that have already made it to undertown, who knows how long they’ve been here, and turns his head over his shoulder to look at yves, finn, and viktor. then, with a slow move of his head, he looks toward the rest of them. 

not able to face them yet, he turns to walk up toward viktor, arms still crossed over his chest. 

“thank you.” he says, keeping himself out of arm’s reach of the russian demigod. “i was pretty sure i was going to die.” 

having the pair of eyes on him caused the feline’s ears and tail to twitch a couple of times. almost like his body was reacting to someone watching him as if it was about to kickstart into fight or flight. yet he knew that the demigod wasn’t going to harm him in any way. plus, his cubs were watching the man watch him too and it was entertaining. 

finally, when he placed the drachmae and spoke up, caraway couldn’t help but snicker as he handed the coin to another one of the workers. “haven’t been in the world of magic for too long, have you my dear son?” regardless, it was a sizable donation and anyone was welcomed into his kitchen.

caraway stopped preparing the next round of meals and let one of the junior cooks take over. “either you like my food so much or there’s something that you think i should change.” honestly, when it came to a lot of money it could mean either or. he was always willing to listen.

He wasn’t sure if the circumstances of the spell were off, if his attention had been wandering, or if the familiar he’d summoned forth was faulty, but instead of the calming emotional connection Asher had tried to make withe the creature, he found himself running from the clearing he’d been sitting in to summon it, chasing the three headed monstrosity back to camp. The lion’s head peered back at him with what he could feel was a look of playful defiance, as it scampered through the bushes and trees and back to camp. This thing was such a bitch, it could only be Asher’s familiar. As they reached the beginning of camp, noticed they were no longer alone. The Chimera bounded toward the large, mound of pure muscle in man form. It was Viktor Zalesski, the unsuspecting victim of his familiars curiosity. “Hold up.” He telepathically demanded the creature not hurt the son of Poseidon. The familiar stopped, just a few yards away from the older demigod, butt up and head down, as if playfully ready to pounce. Seconds later Asher jogged up behind it. “Are you okay?” he galnced up at Vik. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

eyes + q will grant you a truth!

Of course there’s a crush question. His lips part and a soft laugh follows. He can feel his cheeks grow with heat, as if all his blood’s pooled in two spots. Blue eyes might look even brighter now. Julian rubs along his jaw, glancing from paper to window, “Crush? I, ah...” he sighs. One. At least, he does so far. He dips his head and raises a finger, “One, for now. But I don’t think he’s here for long term goals. We’re all aware of the man, large and strong. I think everyone has their eyes on him, right? Viktor?” Saying the name aloud’s enough to bring back a memory, namely the casino, followed by lunch at Voithos.