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Lightbringer
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A part of Milo regretted asking in the first place. He figured Lucius would apologize, that wasn't a surprise. But the next words sent his heart dropping into his stomach and then into his feet. He fell silent and put his hand onto his forehead, lowering his head into his hand. No... no. Ohhhh no. That was absolutely not the thing to have said to Lucius in the first place and now Milo was far more worried for whoever was on the distant war path. Oh he knew full well what could be happening. The implications that he knew paired with the words of Feo. "No, no, you definitely did not get it through his thick skull," Milo groaned, fishing to take a seat on the nearby stone. "Ohhh sweet Hera, this is an absolute mess and now I know where he is and probably what he's doing." Milo glanced up briefly squirming lightly with her blazing glare. "... well it's worked so far," he mumbled. Head down, ignore the factions and just survive was pretty much a great way of solving a problem--it solved it by not creating it. Simple as that. "To put it simply," Milo dared testing the waters with his words. They were picked deliberately and carefully, every syllable was cautiously laid out. "You told Lucius that you have no choice in what you do. You don't understand what kind of person Lucius is, unfortunately I do. Lucius heavily believes everybody has a choice. Everybody has a path to change--it's in his blood. He firmly believes that everybody has a choice, they can change and they're not fixed in destiny--to the point that he will do whatever it takes to solve a problem. What you have done, inadvertently, is given Lucius a problem. Lucius, unlike me, aims for the root of the problem and solves it there. Unfortunately for all of us combined, Lucius didn't have any real parental guidance when growing up. Which means he knows no limits," Milo finished lightly. "I don't know what sort of war path he has been set on. But you, Feo, have likely started some sort of fool-hardy solution that Lucius is aiming to go for." He stood up reluctantly. "I'm willing to bet he's in the library," Milo rubbed his forehead. "He's in the library, researching who-knows-what because he's got an idea and he's too stubborn ... and stupid... to let go of it." His heart was in his feet, stomach in his chest. This was bad. This was very, very bad. So, so bad. And the worst part was he had no clue what kind of idea Lucius had gotten himself into. Was it an actual warpath? Was it studying manipulation? "... if he has an idea, he is not going to let go of it until the problem is solved," Milo admitted, beginning the long walk toward the library. Everything was slowly coming together. No wonder Lucius hadn't come back, he was probably so furious that any logical or rational thinking had flown out the window. The thrill of whatever he was doing was carrying the adrenaline... and Milo was the unfortunate fool who knew where he was. |
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Neutral
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Feo opened his mouth to snarl back at Milo, but Lilian shot Feo a glare so sharp it unsettled even him, and any retort he might have been forming died in his throat. Her expression left no room for argument, no space for excuses. He already knew what she expected of him. Without a word, she released his hand, only to step behind him and give him a shove forward. It wasn’t a gentle nudge; it was deliberate, forceful, and filled with unspoken frustration. She’s pissed. Feo staggered slightly but caught himself, shooting her a wary glance over his shoulder. He opened his mouth, perhaps to protest, but her glare silenced him once more. Resigned, he turned and began walking briskly down the corridor toward the library, his mind racing. He had known Lilian for years—most of his life, really. In all that time, he had seen her annoyed, exasperated, even deeply upset. But this? This fiery anger that radiated off her like heat from the sun? This was new. As he walked, his thoughts churned, picking apart the situation and trying to make sense of it. Why was she so mad? Why would Lilian, calm and collected Lilian, be this furious over something so trivial? He’d always thought of her as a calm, welcoming sea—her waters warm and comforting, the kind you could lose yourself in and feel safe doing so. Her serenity was her hallmark, inherited from her mother, a goddess whose wisdom and tranquility were renowned. Lilian’s powers, however, came from her father: Poseidon, god of the sea, storms, and earthquakes. And now, for the first time, Feo saw that other side of her. The storm god’s fury had seeped into her features, sharpening her gaze and setting her jaw. The serene sea he knew was now roiling with a tempest, and it unnerved him deeply. What did I do to deserve this? Feo wondered, wracking his brain for answers. Was it calling Lucius thick? Surely that wasn’t it—Lilian had never been one to take offense on someone else’s behalf, especially over something so petty. Could it be that she was fond of Lucius in some way Feo hadn’t noticed? The thought gnawed at him, leaving him even more confused. Meanwhile, Lilian followed close behind, her pace brisk and unrelenting. Her frustration was palpable in the sound of her footsteps echoing through the hallway. She muttered under her breath, her words peppered with oceanic curses that Feo didn’t fully understand but could tell weren’t complimentary. “Of all the coral-headed, starfish-brained—” she hissed. “Okay, I get it!” Feo snapped, throwing a glare over his shoulder. “You’re mad. No need to drag the whole ocean into this.” Her response was another shove between his shoulder blades, harder this time. “Keep moving, Azzy,” she said, her voice low. “We’re almost there.” Feo bit back another protest, muttering a string of curses under his breath as he quickened his pace. He needed to focus on what he was going to say to Lucius. If he was supposed to apologize, he’d need to know what for. But as hard as he tried, he couldn’t figure it out. His thoughts swirled aimlessly, chasing themselves like whirlpools. After what felt like an eternity of walking—and enduring countless verbal jabs from Lilian—they finally reached the library. The grand double doors stood open, revealing rows upon rows of books stretching up toward the high ceilings. The soft glow of enchanted lanterns illuminated the space, casting long, shifting shadows over the polished floors. Feo hesitated at the threshold, his unease growing. He stood there for a moment, his expression a blend of discomfort and annoyance. The library, normally a haven of quiet and knowledge, now felt like the entrance to a battlefield. Lilian stepped up beside him, her fiery gaze cutting into him once more. “Well?” she demanded, crossing her arms. “Don’t just stand there. Get in there and fix this.” Feo shot her a glare of his own, though it lacked any real conviction. With a heavy sigh, he stepped forward, bracing himself. |
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Lightbringer
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Milo shook his head lightly, taking one step back as Lilian shoved Feo forward. There was a rolling anger that reminded him of the deep pull of churning ocean waves. The type of anger that was roaring, dangerous but not in a destructive fashion. Milo knew well about the fires of burning fury and anger. But this rolling tempestuous type of anger was unfamiliar and he felt like a small boat hardly in front of the large wave that was threatening to swallow him down to whatever watery deeps. That feeling was not diminished in the slightest by the fact that she was marching behind him. She was muttering curses behind him and he was almost grateful that perhaps just once they wouldn't have to deal with the usual shouting. Yet. The doors swung open the library as the shelves stretched upward and onward. The lanterns lit throughout the main room, casting an orange glow on the nearby objects. Milo looked back at Feo and then at Lilian before taking a step back, lifting his hands up again. This wasn't his battle yet. He was just... what was he? A messenger? That didn't feel quite right, if he was honest with himself. That felt far more like an ill-fitted title. His brown eyes swept around, spotting--in the near distance of the library--the flash of familiar white. It was very brief, as if he were walking down a row of shelves. "Up there," he said quietly, giving Feo an idea of where to go. Somehow, he knew whatever he was planning was stupid. It always was. When Lucius got into this mindset, it took everything in Milo to talk him down, out or away from the idea. This was probably going to be extremely difficult. Lucius hadn't paid any attention to who walked in and out. Honestly, why would he? He could stand up for himself--clearly now. At the time, he hadn't realized that throwing hands was an okay thing to do--and that one wouldn't exactly get in trouble for it. But his arms were full of books as he began to return them to their slots, his mind swirling with potential plans. The Cestus, however, was his first plan of attack. Then, he'd find the armor of Achilles and figure out how to give it a little bit of extra protection. He wasn't planning on falling like Achilles--also, the armor wouldn't work with his wings. Unless... he found a way to hide them temporarily--that was not a bad idea. That would allow him to fly on a plane... and make a lot of this easier to do. As he set the last book in place, he immediately turned and shuffled through the shelves, looking for charms, spells and items. Somewhere in this mass amount of stuff, he could probably find an Egyptian spell book, find an Egyptian spellcaster and figure out a charm. If pestered, it was just for 'quality of life' and that sort of thing. If questioned by any of the three who had taken some sort of strange obsession with him, it was probably going to be the same answer. Nobody could try and take feathers if they didn't know he had feathers in the first place--and it would be easier to defend himself without wings. |
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Neutral
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[ Suddenly, I've got a lot to do! Again, apologies for the wait. ] ~ Feo stepped into the library, moving the direction Milo had gestured, his boots barely making a sound against the polished floor. The towering shelves loomed around him, casting long shadows that stretched and shifted in the faint light streaming from the lanterns. His sharp eyes flicked across the rows of books, scanning for any sign of Lucius. Each step he took was measured and deliberate, his movements carrying a predatory edge, as if he were stalking an unseen quarry. - Behind him, Lilian’s footsteps were far less discreet. It was unusual for her. Normally, she moved with an effortless grace that allowed her to sneak up on him without warning, her presence often startling him at the worst possible moments. But today, her steps were heavy, purposeful, and almost irritated in their cadence. Feo could feel her frustration radiating off her like heat, and it was unsettling. - He didn't know why she was so furious with him. Sure, she'd said it was about Lucius, but Feo didn’t see what he had done wrong. That didn’t stop her anger from creeping under his skin, though. It made him feel exposed, vulnerable in a way he hated. - As he wound through the maze of shelves, Feo parted his lips to call out. But before the name could leave his mouth, he clamped it shut, biting down on his tongue. What was he about to say? Lucy? He grimaced. Why the hell had that nickname almost slipped out? Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus. - "Lucius?" Feo called softly, his voice barely rising above a whisper. The name hung in the still air, unanswered. He turned a corner, scanning the rows of neatly aligned books, while Lilian headed in the opposite direction, her sharp gaze darting between shelves. - Their search took them deeper into the labyrinth of the library, passing through sections filled with novels, academic texts, and encyclopedias. As they reached the fantasy section, something caught Feo’s eye. A worn book titled Blood Angels sat on one of the middle shelves, its faded cover drawing him in. Without thinking, he plucked it from its place, flipping it open and running his thumb along the edges of the pages. He brought the book close to his face and inhaled deeply, savoring the earthy, comforting scent of aged paper. - "Azzy," Lilian hissed sharply, her voice cutting through his brief moment of distraction. - Feo snapped the book shut, glancing at her guiltily before slipping it back onto the shelf. Without a word, he moved on, his footsteps quickening as they left the fantasy section behind. They passed into the historical section, the rows of books narrowing slightly as they delved into the more specialized aisles. Feo paused at the intersection of Greek, Italian, and Egyptian history, his eyes flicking over the signs marking each section. - He almost passed the Egyptian aisle entirely, but something pale and ethereal caught his attention just as he was about to step past. White wings, faintly glowing in the muted light of the library, peeked out from the far end of the aisle. Feo froze, his breath hitching for just a moment before he backtracked into Lilian, who had already stopped in her tracks. - "Lucius," Lilian muttered, her tone carrying more exhaustion than relief. It was as if the sight of him drained the last bit of energy she had. |
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Spring 
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