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Lightbringer
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Just long enough to make him squirm just a touch before the fluff of feathers turned from feathers to person and Feo stepped forward. The golden snake curled around their arm with a content sort of fashion. The demigod of Zephyrus watched the snake for a moment or two, wondering what sort of mystical beast that little thing was actually hiding under the gilded scales. But the tone they used brought his eyes upward to look over them. There was no need to apologize? Oh yes there was and Lucius made sure that it was the first thing that he had done. Apologizing for running into the demigod of Loki, for making a fool of himself, for getting him entangled in this whole thing with Lilian and the likes. But his eyes flicked over their face, watching them focus on the snake instead. Oh--oh they bumped into him? That was about as good as stating that a building ran into a car. It didn't happen like that. Feo was not in motion when Lucius barreled into the other demigod. He noted that they hadn't looked back at him yet and Lucius turned his gaze away as well. That was quite--they cut themself off but Lucius had a feeling it probably was something to do about that was a stupid idea or a poor way of showing himself around. The concept was inevitable, unfortunately. He didn't want to have to stick up for himself, which was part of the problem. The silence drew in, bordering on uncomfortable. Lucius tapped his side a couple times, chewing the inside of his cheek and nearly stepped back before he heard the other demigod speak again. It was a low mutter, commenting on how it was Lilian's fault. "To be fair, I don't think I had much of a choice either," Lucius adopted a rather dry tone as well, shaking his head. "Milo put up such a fit. He keeps going on and on about dark-aligned and light-aligned and quite frankly, I'm already tired of it. You're just... you're an introverted type of person. I'm not," Lucius gestured to himself again and then shook his head. "If you don't want to be around anyone, why bother making yourself do it if you don't have to?" He took a firmer step back, picking up his bag. "Probably apologize, explain a little bit and then part ways," he answered the demigod's question, though he didn't catch the last few words as he picked his bag up from the ground, dusting grass and dirt off of the bottom of the canvas material. He couldn't believe that everyone had somehow gotten their minds twisted around this idea that they were no more than what their parents were. Like that made sense. "At the very least, it was a pleasure to meet and talk with you a little bit," Lucius cleared his throat, straightened his back and offered his hand for the other demigod to shake, "if we meet again, I hope it'll be in more pleasant circumstances and on our own free-will and volition." |
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Neutral
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Feo hesitated, their attention lingering on the scaled surface of Varmire, as if the serpent held the answers they sought. It was safer to look there, to avoid the weight of Lucius's presence. Yet, against their better judgment, they slowly lifted their gaze, meeting his eyes with reluctant curiosity. - Lucius’s expression was calm, but there was a flicker of something behind his eyes—determination, perhaps, or understanding. He extended his hand toward Feo once more, the gesture as steady and patient as before. It was the kind of patience that disarmed Feo, leaving them uncertain of how to respond. - Feo swallowed hard, their throat tight with unspoken thoughts. They listened to Lucius’s words, his tone quiet but resolute. - "I'm doing it for her," Feo finally said, the words brittle in their delivery. Their gaze dropped to the offered hand, but they made no move to take it. "She asked me to do it, so I will. But..." They hesitated, the pause heavy with unspoken possibilities. - Tentatively, as if testing the weight of their decision, Feo reached out, clasping Lucius's hand in a firm but slightly trembling grip. "I... wouldn't mind meeting again, on our own terms," they admitted, their voice softening, almost vulnerable. - Lucius’s hand was warm, steady, and oddly reassuring. The contact, simple as it was, grounded Feo in a way they hadn’t expected. Yet, even in that moment of connection, Feo’s thoughts wandered, tangled in the chaos of their reality. - "If I'm honest," they continued, their voice steadying as they found their footing, "I'm not too fond of the factions myself. It's... exhausting. All of it. I'm the only one here burdened with a fate already written, and I can’t change that. But they can. Everyone else here—they still have a choice. They don’t have to follow in the footsteps of their fathers. They can carve their own path." - The words tasted bitter on their tongue, each one a reminder of their own powerlessness. A cruel voice in the back of their mind whispered, mocking and relentless. Except for you. You are Loki's slave. - Feo's expression faltered briefly, their hand tightening around Lucius’s before they realized what they were doing. Clearing their throat, they quickly released the grip, standing as if putting distance between them would sever the thread of vulnerability that had momentarily bound them. - "But... ah..." Feo faltered, their words stumbling over themselves. "Perhaps we will meet again." Their gaze darted away, unable to linger on Lucius any longer. - For a moment, Feo stood there, feeling the weight of their own words settle heavily around them. |
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Lightbringer
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((Oof this is so short but I can not think ;-;)) For her. That was at the very least something, if not more than Lucius expected. He hadn't been terribly surprised by the admitted words from the other demigod. Perhaps they would meet again and Lucius wasn't entirely sure if he was going to be more or less distracted, focused on school and his degree. That sort of thing... which was what they were supposed to do in the first place. Either way, Lucius nearly let go when the other demigod continued to speak. Factions--Lucius couldn't help his gaze from growing sour and dark as they went off on some sort of spiel about how they were the only one fated with a path to follow and all of that. Boy howdy did he feel his blood start to boil. "But you're exempt from that, supposedly?" Lucius had a lot more emotion in his voice than he likely meant to reveal. He pulled his hand back, setting it on his hip as his sapphire eyes scanned over the other demigod. "Everybody else in the entire world is just carefree and loose but you are somehow destined to follow your father's footsteps--you hear that? It sounds absolutely ignorant. When I say it, it sounds so completely stupid, I can't even believe I'm hearing it out of my own mouth." Lucius stepped forward, feathers rattling. "You are not your father's pawn, you don't belong to them," his words were low and sharp, "you are you. Perhaps, the fates are cruel. But I know that change is inevitable. Fathers can not change the destiny of their children--you change your destiny, you choose what you are doing," he muttered lowly. "If anyone says otherwise, they are feeding you lies and deceit. They want nothing more than to control you. They do not care about you, they care about your power and the control they have over you." Lucius stepped back and shook his head lightly. "If we do meet again, I sincerely hope you'll have taken some time to think about it." |
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Neutral
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[ You're totally fine, I don't particularly mind length when it's discussion like that. It's difficult to make longer responses in those situations. ] ~ Feo had to resist the overwhelming urge to punch him, their fingers twitching at their sides. It would be so easy—satisfying, even—but it wouldn't change anything. Lucius simply didn’t understand. How could he? Lucius had no idea what it was like to be born for a singular, merciless purpose, to exist only as a means to an end, molded and manipulated from the moment of conception. Lucius didn’t carry the burden of power that attracted vultures like a carcass in the desert. No, Lucius didn’t have power—not even a sliver of it. It was obvious in the way he held himself. In the way he absolutely refused to stand up to another. - Instead, Lucius only had to worry about people trying to strip him of his wings, to take the feathered appendages for trophies or fashion them into coats. And even that, Feo thought bitterly, was easy enough to avoid as long as Lucius put in the effort to learn how to defend himself. Self-defense, after all, was a straightforward skill. It had rules, techniques, and clear outcomes. Feo's life, on the other hand, was an unending labyrinth, where every turn brought another trap. Everything about Feo’s existence was infinitely more complicated. - From the moment Feo could comprehend words, Loki had made it painfully clear where his priorities lay. Loki did not care about Feo as a person, as his child. No, Loki cared about one thing and one thing only: the throne. And Feo? Feo was the tool Loki would wield to achieve that ambition. It wasn’t love that had brought Feo into existence—it was strategy. It was manipulation. Loki’s dedication to the chase was almost admirable in its cold ruthlessness; who else would invest 18 years into raising a child, not out of love, but purely as a stepping stone to more power? - Lucius couldn’t begin to fathom that reality. How could he? To be a puppet of the trickster god, to have your strings pulled by someone who saw you as nothing more than a shiny new toy—that was a kind of torment Lucius would never have to endure. He might have suffered in his own way, yes, but that suffering was different, simpler. Feo’s pain was an unrelenting storm, one that threatened to consume them at every moment. - Lucius’s ignorance was infuriating. Feo’s exemption from others’ rules wasn’t some privilege. It wasn’t freedom. It was a sign of their dehumanization, their objectification. Feo wasn’t a person in their eyes. They were a tool, an object to be used and then discarded. And the thought of that—of being thrown away like yesterday’s garbage once Loki tired of them—was a fear that chilled Feo to the bone. - Did Lucius know what it felt like to live every day with the certainty that you were disposable? Did he know what it was like to wake up every morning and wonder if today was the day Loki would cast him aside, deeming him no longer useful? Of course not. Lucius would never truly understand the depth of that fear. How could he? He had never lived it. - Feo’s voice was sharp as a blade when they finally spoke. “If we meet again,” they snarled, each word laced with venom, “I certainly hope your friends will have knocked some sense into your thick skull. Perhaps a bit more time with me would show you that I am not the man you think I am.” - Their eyes bore into Lucius one final time, unyielding and fierce. Then, without another word, Feo stepped back, their body folding in on itself. The raven appeared again, feathers sleek and black as night, golden serpent upon its body. It perched before Lucius, still for a heartbeat. Then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone, leaving nothing behind but the oppressive weight of silence. |
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Lightbringer
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The darkness that gathered in the gaze of the demigod of Loki was less surprising as Lucius spoke. That deep stirring anger of seeing someone else controlled by someone who cared so little about them was infuriating. It grated against his very being, the idea that somehow they couldn't be freed simply because some powerful idiot was too busy thinking of themselves and not of others? It was the wind in his veins, the unchanging, uncontrolled wind that blew in his veins. The idea that somehow one couldn't be able to choose for themselves-- Perhaps Feo misunderstood his words. Lucius wouldn't know. But he knew full well that Feo's deep rooted manipulation was far deeper than he cared to go. If he couldn't figure it out with what he had now--then perhaps he would be a lost cause anyways. To be worried about what he was simply for his father's superior goals--his father... Lucius's sapphire gaze flashed with a small brief spark of an idea. "Oh no," Lucius said shortly, "you already showed me. You're no man, you're a puppet on strings," he growled under his breath. Mindful and quiet? No, not at all. But the idea that had started to form in his head was dangerous, it was reckless but it was something that sent his heart racing with giddy thrill. It had been approximately two days since he had gotten into this absolutely wild place and perhaps, for the worst, Lucius had figured out his own destiny. As Feo lifted up and off, soaring through the skies, the demigod of Zephyrus stayed in place. His eyes focused on the garden in front of him as his thoughts tumbled together in one fool-hardy mass. He knew it was stupid. He knew it. But good grief, if it wasn't for that stubborn demigod wrapped up too far in his father's lies--good grief. Loki was the ultimate liar and they were acting like he told them nothing but the truth? Lucius knew, full well, that he wasn't exactly the "smartest" of beings. But he found himself on a different pathway. The gods couldn't manipulate their children... if they didn't exist. While it would be harder to kill off Greek gods, considering the entirety of the titan war and whatnot. Romans hardly did anything--but he'd have to do some research on that one. But Nordic gods? Well, unfortunately for them, they were immortal until killed. Which... was rather ideal. Lucius just had to figure out a way to get a bit more power behind his words. Wings were nice and all but he needed some extra pizazz, a little extra oomph behind him. If he could find the armor of Achilles--the impenetrable armor... it would be a bit of an underhanded move but if he could find Aphrodite's Cestus... nobody would be able to tell him no. Lucius dipped his head, his mind reeling. The white wings spread out as he rushed to the library, piecing through the books of mythology. Everything he could need. Orientation was largely forgotten, he didn't need it anyways. Fragarach, a mystical sword to pierce any armor--but also the Answerer, meaning that no lies could be told with the sword at their throat. Or--alternatively, Gram, the sword that could cut through anvils. Or the spear, Gungnir that could strike any target without needing skill or strength. He could also go for the legendary bow of Heracles, who had his arrows dipped in the blood of the Hydra. But first, he'd need the Cestus from Aphrodite. The plan was brilliant. With beauty beyond imagination, no one could say no to him. If he wanted the armor, they'd find it. If he wanted the weapons, they'd give it to him. He paused, briefly as his hands paused. The crown of Serapis. A visage of power--said to gain access to the power of powers. That... would be perfect. The Cestus and the crown? Perfect. He'd get all of the items together. To which, he'd then turn around and threaten the gods themselves to shape up. But, of course, Loki would be the first to truly fall. He'd show him that one could gain a throne without destroying anyone and prove that he was right. He wasn't just some careless, carefree knob and that the factions were stupid. Of course, no one would agree with it. Milo especially. Ugh. He worried too much and he wasn't planning on talking to Lilian anytime soon. |
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Neutral
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Going back to his room sounded amazing. The idea of collapsing into his little corner and burying himself under a mountain of blankets was tempting, especially since it meant avoiding the complications of people and their incessant drama. But Feo knew better. Lilian would probably storm in and yell at him if he spent another few days sitting in the dark, brooding like a sulking crow. As calm and serene as she usually was, Feo had experienced her fiery temper before, and it was something he wasn’t particularly eager to provoke again. - Instead of retreating to solitude, he decided to seek her out. - The raven soared high above the school’s peaks, sharp eyes scanning the grounds below with precision. But he wasn't looking for blue hair. Instead, he found himself searching for wings.. again. And that made him want to slap himself even more. - Eventually, his sharp gaze settled on the school’s entrance. There, near the large, ornate fountain that greeted every visitor, was Lilian. The fountain was an impressive structure, its cascading water sparkling like liquid diamonds under the midday sun. It was also the largest body of water on campus, save for the pool, but Feo knew Lilian hated chlorine. She avoided it as if it carried some deep, personal offense. - He descended swiftly, shifting back into his humanoid form as his feet touched the ground. She didn’t notice his arrival at first. Her trouser legs were rolled up to her knees, and her feet were submerged in the cool water. She sat with a serene stillness, gazing into the rippling surface of the fountain as though it contained secrets only she could decipher. - Feo hesitated for a moment before sitting beside her. His boots stayed firmly planted on the ground as he let Varmire slither into the water. The serpent swam with elegant ease, her bright scales gleaming beneath the surface. - “What did you do?” Lilian asked suddenly, her voice calm but pointed. She didn’t look at him, her eyes remaining fixed on the water as if she were addressing it instead of him. For a moment, Feo was unsure whether she was speaking to him or one of the aquatic creatures she claimed could understand her. Her connection to the water and its inhabitants was a mystery he’d never bothered to unravel. - “I talked to him,” Feo muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “Like you asked.” - “You didn’t put any crazy ideas in his head, did you? It was a normal conversation?” she pressed, her tone edged with suspicion. - “Yeah,” he replied with a shrug, though his tone carried a hint of irritation. “Other than the fact that he suggested I was free and then ended it by shoving the fact that I’m a puppet in my face.” - Her head snapped up, and she fixed him with a sharp glare that could have cut through steel. “What the kelpie did you say to him?!” - Feo threw up his hands in exasperation. “I didn’t say anything! We talked about how the whole faction nonsense is stupid, that’s all!” - “Azzy, you pissed him off. Obviously. At least, that’s what it sounds like from the way you’re telling it.” She crossed her arms. “Go find him and apologize.” - “No! Why?!” - “Azzy!” she shouted, her calm demeanor vanishing entirely. Her voice echoed across the courtyard, startling a few passing students who gave them wide-eyed looks before scurrying away. - Feo let out a frustrated growl, standing abruptly and pulling a now-wet Varmire from the water. The snake coiled obediently back around his arm. “I have nothing to apologize for,” he declared firmly, glaring down at her. - “You have everything to apologize for!” she shot back, her tone leaving no room for argument. - He rubbed his temple, the beginnings of a headache forming. “Lily, you don’t understand—” - She stood abruptly, cutting him off mid-sentence. Grabbing his hand with surprising force, she tugged him forward with a determination that left no room for protest. In one swift motion, she stepped into her boots, dragging him behind her. - “Lily, where are you taking me?” he asked, his voice tinged with a rare note of panic as he stumbled after her. - “To find him,” she said firmly, her grip on his hand unyielding. “You are going to apologize.” - Feo dug his heels into the ground, resisting her pull, but it was no use. Lilian was relentless, her stride purposeful as she marched toward the dorms—or wherever she suspected their mutual acquaintance might be hiding. - “Lily, this is ridiculous!” he protested, his tone bordering on desperation. “I didn’t do anything wrong!” - “You did,” she shot back without missing a beat. “And if you can’t see that, then you really are as dense as a rock.” - Feo groaned, his free hand raking through his dark hair. This was going to be a long, miserable day. |
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Lightbringer
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Milo's leg bounced in the courtyard, sitting on the side of the steps. It had been way longer than a half hour and he wasn't sure if his winged friend had made it to the orientation or not. His fingers tapped along the stonework for a few more moments before he stood up. He couldn't just sit there and wonder where on earth or what on earth his friend had gotten tangled up in. Milo began to piece through the crowd--which grew larger as orientation students were guided from the lecture hall out to the many buildings around campus. Much to his own chagrin, the blond haired, white winged demigod of Zephyrus was not located in the amassing of people. Lovely. That was lovely. He muttered a couple of dry curses under his breath and dove into the crowd again. Some students simply filed on by, others were far less gentle and kind in their pushing through. Was he more worried about the fact that he had let him go? Not so much, no. Lucius was an adult and could, in theory, handle himself. Was he more worried about other adults? That was the kicker. Milo knew his winged friend had this idea that somehow this whole thing was just a game, a mere child's play at recess. It wasn't. That was the problem. It was deep rooted hatred and a war that bordered on vicious. If he said the wrong thing to someone else, he'd be dead meat. Maybe not dead-dead, but Milo knew--partially from experience--that he'd want to be dead after that. One didn't simply rock the boat because they could. That was exactly how you ended up on the bottom rung, suffering. Milo paused, watching the students file in and out of the lecture hall again. White wings, blond haired--well, there was Lilian. Milo's brown eyes caught the flash of blue hair quickly as he watched her drag Feo behind her, headed back toward the dorms. Reluctantly, he also noted, that Lucius was not nearby. Milo changed his course of action and gave a small jog toward the pair. Maybe they'd know...? Or at least have the faintest inkling of a clue as to where Lucius might have ended up. He paused, however as their conversation caught his ears. 'I didn't do anything wrong!' 'You did--' And the rest was lost to him. Ohhh fantastic. Milo put one hand on his forehead and the other on his hip. "This was exactly why I don't make promises," he grumbled and turned again. Where... would he be? He... maybe the gardens? Milo trekked his way over, finding no demigod. Flight class was equally empty. Another long trek back toward the main courtyard left Milo concerned and confused. Where on earth would he have ended up? He spotted Lilian once again and reluctantly stood up, heading toward the demigods. "I really hate to ask this," he said wearily, "have either of you seen Lucius lately?" Lucius studied the texts for a while, eventually reaching for a different genre. He wanted geography. According to some of the history, the Cestus had been lost from the goddess' temple on Mount Olympus during a raid in the early days of the first Great War. Why that wasn't surprising, Lucius wouldn't tell. The thief was undetermined but apparently the Cestus had been lost in the snow and plains of the mid-west in America. That wasn't terribly surprising, anyone could get lost out there. His eyes flicked over, studying a few more moments. Supposedly, it was rumored that it was in a mortal museum somewhere in ... Kansas. "Kansas," Lucius echoed wearily. "That's... that's nowhere near here--no. No, it's a minor travel. It'll be fine," he waved his hand and closed the book again. Kansas. In theory... well, no. Flying on his own would be difficult and long. Airplanes did little to accommodate for wings. He'd have to drive. That would be a long drive. But it'd be worth it. His sapphire eyes flicked toward the distant window, feathers ruffling. He understood plenty well and he wasn't as daft as others assumed, he just didn't bother with throwing hands when it wasn't necessary. However, in this instance, it was absolutely necessary. But no one would know. It had to be kept a secret. |
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Neutral
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Feo walked briskly behind Lilian, his mind wandering as they moved through the winding halls of the academy. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t realize she had stopped until it was too late. He bumped into her with a dull thud, muttering a quiet curse under his breath as he stumbled back. Lilian's ears were sharp and alert as she heard the voice metioning the name. She had stopped abruptly, her hand tightening its hold on Feo’s as her sharp eyes scanned their surroundings. She was already searching for the source, her attention snapping to Milo as he approached from the corridor ahead. Feo shifted awkwardly behind her, trying to pull back from being pressed against her, but Lilian refused to release his hand. His efforts earned only a brief glance over her shoulder before she returned her focus to Milo. "Lucius?" she echoed, her voice steady but laced with curiosity and a touch of impatience. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she scrutinized Milo, searching his expression for any clue. "No, we’re looking for him now," she added after a moment, her tone cooling. She turned her head just enough to cast a pointed glare at Feo, who was hovering awkwardly behind her. "Someone," she continued, her words sharper now, "needs to apologize to a certain winged boy." At that, Feo’s expression shifted, his usual annoyance tinged with something faintly resembling guilt. His lips pressed into a thin line, and his shoulders slumped slightly. Still, the sheepishness in his demeanor was fleeting, quickly overtaken by his default irritation. Lilian didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response, instead turning her attention back to Milo. "Do you have any idea where he might be?" she asked, her tone softening slightly, though her urgency remained clear. "We’ve already checked the second wing hall, but we didn’t look inside any of the dorms. He wasn’t in the main hall either, where everyone was leaving from orientation." She paused, her gaze sharpening as if trying to piece together the puzzle herself. "Did he come back to you after they were done talking? Or did he mention where he might go?" Meanwhile, Feo tugged again at his captured hand, his patience fraying. Lilian’s grip only tightened in response, her fingers like iron around his wrist. He sighed audibly, muttering under his breath about overbearing demigods. "Seriously, Lilian," Feo grumbled, shooting her an annoyed glance. "I don’t need a babysitter. You can let go now." "Not until we find him," Lilian replied without looking at him, her tone infuriatingly calm. Feo sighed again, louder this time, tilting his head back as if the ceiling itself could grant him patience. "I’m not going to run off," he muttered. "This whole thing was your idea, remember?" "Exactly," Lilian said, finally glancing back at him with an arched brow. "Which means you’ll see it through." Feo groaned but didn’t try to pull away again. |
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Lightbringer
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Milo stepped out and watched as the young woman stopped abruptly. His hands lifted up almost immediately, a placating motion waving his hands as if to say he wasn't a threat. It was a force of habit movement from the demigod of Hephaestus. The demigod of Loki looked awkward at best but Milo didn't even dare look at him, focused solely on Lilian. She echoed the name and studied him. A part of him wished she could glean any clue as to his whereabouts from his own face but Milo knew better than that. His hand pushed through his hair as she mentioned that they were looking for him too. His shoulders sank slightly, tapping his fingers against his cheek after he had rubbed it in some worry and anxiety. His brown eyes, however, flicked up toward Feo when Lilian mentioned that he needed to apologize. His heart skipped a beat before he winced. He really didn't want to know what went down. Lucius wasn't well known for running from a problem, he was... he was the type of idiot to try and fix it instead. "I have no idea," Milo grumbled quietly. "I tried checking the gardens, I checked the lecture hall where orientation was, I checked flight class... nothing," he waved his hands as he gestured to each place. Did he have an idea? Well not anymore! "He didn't," Milo said quietly, answering her question. "He didn't say a thing. He just left and didn't come back. It was after at least a good forty-five minutes or so when I finally went looking for him. I saw you two and ... well, I kinda hoped you'd know." Clearly, he was wrong. Milo rubbed his face for a long moment. "What happened?" He finally asked, reluctantly drawing the question from his lips. "Maybe we can figure it out if we know what happened..." Personally, the less time he spent around Feo was better. He knew the reputation that the demigod had and he was not aiming to be another number etched in the log book of demigods he had harassed. A part of him wanted to just apologize to Feo for whatever idiotic thing Lucius had done and just get it over with. It was like walking right next to a a geyser waiting to explode, a bomb just waiting to tick. Milo knew what was coming and he wanted to prepare himself by being far away from the potential problem. The other part of him was going to hogtie Lucius to a chair that way he couldn't get in trouble again. Milo knew he'd find a way out of those too, inevitably. He always did. It was like trying to contain ... the wind. It didn't work very well. Milo shook his head lightly. "It may be best if we just... apologize and go our separate ways?" He finally said, wearily, looking toward Lilian again. "I--look, I know Lucius and... I really don't think he's going to get along well with... Asrifeon." |
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Neutral
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Lilian’s piercing gaze drilled into Feo, the weight of her judgment already pressing down on him. He sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair before finally looking up. “Alright, alright,” he said, throwing his free hand up defensively. “Here’s what happened. I got there, fine. I told him he was very welcome for me saving his sorry ass yesterday—because he really should’ve said something about it by now. Then, I might’ve almost called him pathetic—might’ve. I complained about you, he complained about the stupid factions, and I—being the gracious, understanding person I am—agreed with him. Then I told him about how I’m nothing more than a literal demigod puppet while everyone else gets to do whatever they damn well please. And for some reason, that pissed him off. Like, why? I’m the one stuck in this mess, not him!” Feo’s voice rose slightly, his frustration bubbling over. “So yeah, I growled at him. Maybe I even called him thick because, frankly, he deserved it. I am a pawn, alright? At least by the time I left, he finally got it through his thick skull.” He leaned back with a huff, crossing his arms as if he expected a medal for his recounting. Instead, Lilian’s fiery glare intensified, her eyes practically alight with the promise of fury. “What?” Feo’s gaze darted nervously between Lilian and Milo. “What?! What now?!” “Azzy,” Lilian hissed, her voice sharp enough to cut through steel. “You are a kappa-brained bastard.” Feo blinked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. “What does that even mean?” Lilian ignored him entirely, turning her blazing attention to Milo, who shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “And you,” she began, her tone rising with every syllable, “you are not going to fix this mess by shoving factions apart and pretending it’ll sort itself out. That’s not compromise. That’s cowardice.” “I will fix this stupid boy,” she declared, jabbing a finger toward Feo, “no matter how many light-aligned, neutral-aligned, or even sensible dark-aligned fools I have to deal with to get it done. By my reef, someone needs to knock sense into him—and into Lucius, too, while we’re at it.” Feo’s indignation rose, but Lilian cut him off before he could utter a word. “The two of you combined have the brainpower of a hippocampus on a good day. Frankly, you could all use a stern talking-to—and maybe even a slap across the face with a fish for good measure.” Feo groaned, rubbing his temple again. “I swear, I am surrounded by maniacs.” “And yet,” Lilian said, her voice dangerously calm, “here we are, cleaning up after you." |
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Summer 
Day 
Heavy Rain
