[ the first night annabeth was here, she slept like a log. her entire body is bone tired, aching like nothing before, it was simply too exhausted to do anything other than sleep. it was probably the most restful night she'd gotten in weeks, if not months. ]
[ it doesn't last, of course. demigod nights are not very restful to begin with, and there's a lot that slowly starts to catch up with her after the shock of arriving in abraxas begins to wear off. it gave her a lot to focus on, to put the doors of death out of her head. she knows this would be harder without percy, but after she begins to adjust, it's like her consciousness remembers she's a demigod and remembers where she came from. the nightmares, once again, start to kick in. ]
[ she makes it through the second night, even the third - not without issue, not without waking several times, not without staring into the void of her bed's ceiling canopy for gods know how long. she sleeps in a little later each day, trying to catch up on the rest she knows her body desperately needs, but it becomes impossible to get through the whole night by the day of the castle's party. she has a good time. she learns a lot. she gets to eat olives again. percy whines about getting wet in nott and annabeth tries not to laugh at him. ]
[ but that night is the worst so far. her dreams are full of monsters, of molten skin moving beneath her feet. there are bloodstained orange shirts, and percy's body smothered in wounds, curses from their mere existence as half-bloods. tartarus twists alive again more wholly than it has since she left it. she sees the entity itself rise and knows she is going to die, surrounded by blood-red skies and desperation. ]
[ annabeth jolts upright and wakes suddenly, shoving the blanket into her mouth and biting down on instinct before she screams out into the room. her chest is tight and she is crying. she lifts her knees and buries her face into them, into the blanket, trying to hide the sound of her heaving. she's afraid to open her eyes, because what if she can't see? it's a strange new fear, one she finds comes at most in the night. most of all, though, she just wants to see percy. she wants the reassurance of simply him, alive and breathing and warm. ]
[ without thinking, she slips from her bed, feet landing silently on the floor. the room is quiet. she pads her way over to percy's bed, gently pulling open his curtains just enough to slip herself inside before dropping them, blocking off the rest of the room around them. ]
Percy.
[ she whispers it, but there's an edge to her voice, almost an urgency. she wants to touch him, to wake him, to make sure he's still there even though she can see the shape of him beneath the blankets, but there's a sliver of a shiver in her bones that keeps her rooted to the floor, despite how much she just wants to climb in beside him. her hair is a mess, her face splotchy, her body shaking just so, but it's hardly the worst he's ever seen her. ]
[ When sleep eventually finds Percy, following a tough work-out in Nott and Thorne's fancy party, the last thing he thinks is, Man, this place can't possibly be real. I'm gonna wake up tomorrow morning and it'll be the smell of bitter smoke in my nostrils and the taste of acid on my tongue. I'll see red skies and endless craggy rock, and a monster will be staring at me like I'm breakfast.
It's followed by, I can't believe I had five slices of pizza, and all of it is gonna be fake, before he's finally out like a light.
Like Annabeth, and like any demigod, his dreams are troubling. They're filled with haunting memories of Tartarus and snatches of unfulfilled prophecy lines delivered by creatures with hollowed out holes for eyes, green smoke filtering from the sockets. There are familiar screams, and there are unfamiliar ones, until Percy spends the first hour or so wrestling with sleep like it's one of the monsters in his dreams. Eventually he finds himself staring at the folds in the gossamer curtains that provide him with a veneer of privacy within this shared room and no sense of what time it must be now.
Well. At least it's all real, so that's something.
There are three other beds here, two of which are occupied now by fellow Thornites (Thorners? Thorneans? He hasn't really learned the lingo yet) whom he's probably said a total of about three words to since he'd met them — one of which was 'hi' and the last two being 'good' and 'night'. The last bed across the room from his, of course, should be occupied by his girlfriend, Annabeth. And while he tries to listen for the sound of her breathing, it's the howling sound of the winds outside, and rain pelting against glass and stone that make it hard to hear much else.
He wonders if he'll be going back to Nott tomorrow. He wonders if he'll have his powers back by then.
He barely even notices that someone's pushed aside the curtains for a moment, slipping past them, until he hears his name whispered above the wind and the rain; and he doesn't even have a chance to chide himself for not noticing, for how easily he could have just been murdered if someone wanted to, because he rolls over to meet his visitor's eyes and his heart immediately sinks all the way somewhere in his gut.
With a jolt, he shifts to sit up, meeting Annabeth's miserable expression with one of concern. ]
Hey — [ His voice is soft as he quickly checks her for any signs of injury with nothing more than the night sky to provide the barest of light. No, this isn't the worst that he's seen her, but it's not good either. ] What's wrong? Did something happen?
[ he's awake already. she finds she isn't surprised. annabeth has a moment to feel bad he isn't sleeping, but she's grateful she doesn't have to spend the time waking him. ]
[ it's dark but she can still see him, and she doesn't know if it's because she is used to seeing in the dark or if it's because she's used to seeing him in the dark. both aren't pleasant thoughts. there's relief with seeing him anyway, hearing his voice, and she doesn't wholly process what he says at first, still stuck in her head. she tries to focus entirely on him there, the sound of his concern. the shape of his shoulders, the frown on his face. he is whole. ]
[ she bursts into another wave of tears. her hands reach out for him without thinking, and she's already half climbing onto the bed. ]
Yeah — yeah, of course. Hey — it's okay, it's gonna be okay. I'm here.
[ It occurs to him that while he's seen Annabeth cry, even been the cause for it on more than one occasion (which always feels like a knife-stab in the chest), this is different. This is panicked and scared and it's about something else, something he can guess at, and it isn't because of him.
Well, not exactly because of him.
Percy pulls back the blankets to make it easier for him to gather her up in his arms when she reaches out for him, and to pull her in close like he could protect her from whatever she's warring with right now with his physical presence. (Again, he has an idea of what it might be.) She's shaking a little, and he thinks his heart might shatter.
Instead he swallows. ]
Talk to me. [ A small distraction. A way to slowly get out of her own head and the images that are probably still clinging to her. ] Tell me something, anything.
[ Honestly, Percy's surprised to hear from Claire. He isn't even sure why, it's not like they really know each other; they've never even ... met. They may as well be total strangers.
But when her message appears, it hits him like a hollow ache in his chest, full of nostalgia for a set of false memories and... something else too. Something that feels a whole lot like what he feels for his real mom back home.
Is it weird to miss someone you don't even know? Probably. ]
Hey Claire,
You don't owe me anything, seriously. What happened to us ... it was weird.
But you're right, we might not know each other but I still feel like we do too. And I appreciate your offer more than you'll know, which is also kind of weird I guess. There's probably some reason the Singularity decided to connect us even if the memories weren't real, right?
Anyway, if you ever need to call on me I'll answer too — all the way from Thorne. I might not be as fast as I was, but you can count on me.
[ In the wake of this, Claire misses Bree so fiercely, feels the emptiness of her home without a lanky young person's belongings strewn about. There isn't much else to say, she knows, but it felt right to reach out. Smiling softly at his last sentence, she sends one more message.]
[ it's very early morning when annabeth stirs. the bed's curtains do a good job of blocking most of the light from the window, but she must have left it open a crack when she crawled in last night. she could close it, but she's far too comfortably curled directly into percy's side. at least her head is on the pillow this time, her hand in his rather than his arm around her - but either way she doesn't want to move. it's warm. she's safe. so is he. that part feels more important. ]
[ she tilts her head just enough to look at his peacefully sleeping face, dimly lit as it is. despite the early hour, annabeth feels... rested. she feels safe. the combination of the two is probably not to be ignored. she continues to sleep better when he's beside her, and vise versa, and her mind has been whirling with that thought for a while. ]
[ when he mumbles something in his sleep, she absently squeezes his hand and tucks her head back against him, closing her eyes to block the minimalist light, even if she's not sure she'll fall back asleep. it doesn't mean she has to get up, and she doesn't want to interrupt his sleep either. if she moves, she'll disturb him, and after the nightmare last night, she'd rather not. ]
[ so naturally a few minutes later, she can tell exactly when he wakes too. maybe they're just too intertwined. ]
[ It's hard to feel any kind of embarrassment or shame when he opens his eyes to the sensations that suddenly remind him that he's still here, still whole, and still with Annabeth. Her hand is in his, fingers threaded together and still holding on tight, and the comforting weight of her pressed into him feels like the kind of anchor he doesn't need any Achilles' curses for.
Last night's round of especially visceral nightmares had been on some whole new level Percy's not even sure he'd been capable of imagining, the kinda stuff that would make even the toughest god run for the hills because he and Annabeth had seen it; lived it — and now it's been tattooed into his brain and exaggerated just because demigod brains are fun like that.
He dips his face into the crook of Annabeth's neck, just above her shoulder, nose buried into the soft, messy blonde of her hair. His body feels heavy with exhaustion, muscles still tense, like he'd gone twelve rounds with a Minotaur. (And the one time had been enough.) His voice is muffled when he responds, but he makes no move (for now) to properly get up or anything. ]
Morning. [ He groans, eventually rolling back to tilt his head up towards the flowing fabric draped over the canopy frame above them. ] Can we just stay here for the day?
[ annabeth beams a little as he ducks his face into her, but it leaves her at the near perfect angle to lean in to plant a kiss atop his head. she lingers very briefly, still hoping to be a small comfort, but when he shifts to lay wholly on his back she moves with him in the transition like she's in orbit. ]
[ she wriggles in to stay close to him without thinking, still holding his hand. ]
Well, I'm not going to fight you on that, even if our stomachs might. [ his, especially. ]
We could take a morning nap. [ ignoring the fact that they just woke up. she's cozy. percy's still warm and she's leeching that warmth. he does have a good point about staying here all day. perhaps they at least deserve a long lie-in after the night's not so cozy start. ]
[ And in turn, like it's instinct or just The Way It Goes, Percy's arm shifts to properly draw her closer and using her like an anchor to dispel the last of the pretty crappy haunting images that managed to infiltrate every part of his dreaming brain last night.
He considers breakfast and getting something to eat, and while the concept's nice, it does mean having to leave the bed and probably facing down their fellow roommates. Speaking of which ... ]
Was it bad?
[ Clearly no one had gone out to get an Adult Supervisor or anyone with a higher authoritative power to uh ... subdue him, so. Maybe it was ... manageable? He can't remember. ]
no, I haven't heard anything kinda what I'm worried about? she ditched our movie night in Eddie's Horizon hasn't mind-messaged me or whatever back when I asked why
[ This is where Percy will make his own attempt to reach out through mind-messaging, with the kind of stupid joke that would definitely rile Clarisse up into a response, no matter what she was up to.
And when there's nothing but silence ... ]
Okay, so ... consider me worried too. The joke I just made would have had her rolling her eyes and then sending me a punch I could feel through this messaging thing but all I got is radio silence too.
Does this kinda thing happen a lot? People just disappear?
[ annabeth has been furiously knitting away at gifts for friends in the last few weeks (dare she say since the end of summer), and percy has probably been privy to some of it. it's a great habit to keep her hands busy. but in the rare moments they did not spend together, annabeth was working on his gifts. ]
[ so, right before they go to the nether, percy will get his handmade presents for the solstice and wintertide season. ]
carefully wrapped and tied with a bow, he gets more than anyone else. one ocean themed hat, with some fishy mittens, completed with a scarf full of turtles. as a bonus, he also gets a little fish friend. what can she say? he's her favorite. she doesn't leave a note, she's not gonna make him read. it just comes with a small card that says:
His reaction is simple, predictable, but no less sincere. It starts with a grin that grows and grows until it could split his face neatly in two. Then it's followed by an enthusiastic little demonstration of sorts for each of the pieces, a dumb puppet show with the little knitted fish friend that could make any real fish jealous (or offended, depending on the sensibility of the fish), and concludes with Percy sweeping his girlfriend up in a flurry of kisses. ]
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seaweedbrain) wrote2024-04-05 11:53 am
action | night of the thorne mingle
[ it doesn't last, of course. demigod nights are not very restful to begin with, and there's a lot that slowly starts to catch up with her after the shock of arriving in abraxas begins to wear off. it gave her a lot to focus on, to put the doors of death out of her head. she knows this would be harder without percy, but after she begins to adjust, it's like her consciousness remembers she's a demigod and remembers where she came from. the nightmares, once again, start to kick in. ]
[ she makes it through the second night, even the third - not without issue, not without waking several times, not without staring into the void of her bed's ceiling canopy for gods know how long. she sleeps in a little later each day, trying to catch up on the rest she knows her body desperately needs, but it becomes impossible to get through the whole night by the day of the castle's party. she has a good time. she learns a lot. she gets to eat olives again. percy whines about getting wet in nott and annabeth tries not to laugh at him. ]
[ but that night is the worst so far. her dreams are full of monsters, of molten skin moving beneath her feet. there are bloodstained orange shirts, and percy's body smothered in wounds, curses from their mere existence as half-bloods. tartarus twists alive again more wholly than it has since she left it. she sees the entity itself rise and knows she is going to die, surrounded by blood-red skies and desperation. ]
[ annabeth jolts upright and wakes suddenly, shoving the blanket into her mouth and biting down on instinct before she screams out into the room. her chest is tight and she is crying. she lifts her knees and buries her face into them, into the blanket, trying to hide the sound of her heaving. she's afraid to open her eyes, because what if she can't see? it's a strange new fear, one she finds comes at most in the night. most of all, though, she just wants to see percy. she wants the reassurance of simply him, alive and breathing and warm. ]
[ without thinking, she slips from her bed, feet landing silently on the floor. the room is quiet. she pads her way over to percy's bed, gently pulling open his curtains just enough to slip herself inside before dropping them, blocking off the rest of the room around them. ]
Percy.
[ she whispers it, but there's an edge to her voice, almost an urgency. she wants to touch him, to wake him, to make sure he's still there even though she can see the shape of him beneath the blankets, but there's a sliver of a shiver in her bones that keeps her rooted to the floor, despite how much she just wants to climb in beside him. her hair is a mess, her face splotchy, her body shaking just so, but it's hardly the worst he's ever seen her. ]
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It's followed by, I can't believe I had five slices of pizza, and all of it is gonna be fake, before he's finally out like a light.
Like Annabeth, and like any demigod, his dreams are troubling. They're filled with haunting memories of Tartarus and snatches of unfulfilled prophecy lines delivered by creatures with hollowed out holes for eyes, green smoke filtering from the sockets. There are familiar screams, and there are unfamiliar ones, until Percy spends the first hour or so wrestling with sleep like it's one of the monsters in his dreams. Eventually he finds himself staring at the folds in the gossamer curtains that provide him with a veneer of privacy within this shared room and no sense of what time it must be now.
Well. At least it's all real, so that's something.
There are three other beds here, two of which are occupied now by fellow Thornites (Thorners? Thorneans? He hasn't really learned the lingo yet) whom he's probably said a total of about three words to since he'd met them — one of which was 'hi' and the last two being 'good' and 'night'. The last bed across the room from his, of course, should be occupied by his girlfriend, Annabeth. And while he tries to listen for the sound of her breathing, it's the howling sound of the winds outside, and rain pelting against glass and stone that make it hard to hear much else.
He wonders if he'll be going back to Nott tomorrow. He wonders if he'll have his powers back by then.
He barely even notices that someone's pushed aside the curtains for a moment, slipping past them, until he hears his name whispered above the wind and the rain; and he doesn't even have a chance to chide himself for not noticing, for how easily he could have just been murdered if someone wanted to, because he rolls over to meet his visitor's eyes and his heart immediately sinks all the way somewhere in his gut.
With a jolt, he shifts to sit up, meeting Annabeth's miserable expression with one of concern. ]
Hey — [ His voice is soft as he quickly checks her for any signs of injury with nothing more than the night sky to provide the barest of light. No, this isn't the worst that he's seen her, but it's not good either. ] What's wrong? Did something happen?
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[ it's dark but she can still see him, and she doesn't know if it's because she is used to seeing in the dark or if it's because she's used to seeing him in the dark. both aren't pleasant thoughts. there's relief with seeing him anyway, hearing his voice, and she doesn't wholly process what he says at first, still stuck in her head. she tries to focus entirely on him there, the sound of his concern. the shape of his shoulders, the frown on his face. he is whole. ]
[ she bursts into another wave of tears. her hands reach out for him without thinking, and she's already half climbing onto the bed. ]
Can I - Can I stay here for a minute?
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[ It occurs to him that while he's seen Annabeth cry, even been the cause for it on more than one occasion (which always feels like a knife-stab in the chest), this is different. This is panicked and scared and it's about something else, something he can guess at, and it isn't because of him.
Well, not exactly because of him.
Percy pulls back the blankets to make it easier for him to gather her up in his arms when she reaches out for him, and to pull her in close like he could protect her from whatever she's warring with right now with his physical presence. (Again, he has an idea of what it might be.) She's shaking a little, and he thinks his heart might shatter.
Instead he swallows. ]
Talk to me. [ A small distraction. A way to slowly get out of her own head and the images that are probably still clinging to her. ] Tell me something, anything.
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after she's been back in solvunn a day or two
𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝐼 𝑜𝑤𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠. 𝐼 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑙𝑦 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 feel 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝐼'𝑚 𝑖𝑛 𝑆𝑜𝑙𝑣𝑢𝑛𝑛, 𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢.
[ He may not accept that at all, and she's alright with that. ]
𝑁𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡, 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠.
𝐶𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝐹𝑟𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑟
yessssssss
But when her message appears, it hits him like a hollow ache in his chest, full of nostalgia for a set of false memories and... something else too. Something that feels a whole lot like what he feels for his real mom back home.
Is it weird to miss someone you don't even know? Probably. ]
Hey Claire,
You don't owe me anything, seriously. What happened to us ... it was weird.
But you're right, we might not know each other but I still feel like we do too. And I appreciate your offer more than you'll know, which is also kind of weird I guess. There's probably some reason the Singularity decided to connect us even if the memories weren't real, right?
Anyway, if you ever need to call on me I'll answer too — all the way from Thorne. I might not be as fast as I was, but you can count on me.
Thanks for being an awesome pretend-mom.
Percy
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𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝑁𝑜 𝑑𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑢𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑤 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑘𝑠.
𝑇𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒. 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎 𝑤𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑛.
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( she's asked around! )
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But yeah I'm in Thorne.
Is this weird?
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( wanda feels like she has known him her entire life, but she also... doesn't? it's a strange feeling. )
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And yeah I kinda do think its weird but that doesn't mean I want you to back off.
[ Her suggesting it actually has his chest tightening, like he couldn't bear the thought. ]
I guess I just mean ... I still feel like you're my mom, even though I know you're not.
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wrapped! 🎀
🎀
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Are you?
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You got me a present?
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message ➝ action (1/2) ;
action ;
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look at their matching icons
omg like mama like son
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action | nebulous july/august
[ she tilts her head just enough to look at his peacefully sleeping face, dimly lit as it is. despite the early hour, annabeth feels... rested. she feels safe. the combination of the two is probably not to be ignored. she continues to sleep better when he's beside her, and vise versa, and her mind has been whirling with that thought for a while. ]
[ when he mumbles something in his sleep, she absently squeezes his hand and tucks her head back against him, closing her eyes to block the minimalist light, even if she's not sure she'll fall back asleep. it doesn't mean she has to get up, and she doesn't want to interrupt his sleep either. if she moves, she'll disturb him, and after the nightmare last night, she'd rather not. ]
[ so naturally a few minutes later, she can tell exactly when he wakes too. maybe they're just too intertwined. ]
Morning.
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Last night's round of especially visceral nightmares had been on some whole new level Percy's not even sure he'd been capable of imagining, the kinda stuff that would make even the toughest god run for the hills because he and Annabeth had seen it; lived it — and now it's been tattooed into his brain and exaggerated just because demigod brains are fun like that.
He dips his face into the crook of Annabeth's neck, just above her shoulder, nose buried into the soft, messy blonde of her hair. His body feels heavy with exhaustion, muscles still tense, like he'd gone twelve rounds with a Minotaur. (And the one time had been enough.) His voice is muffled when he responds, but he makes no move (for now) to properly get up or anything. ]
Morning. [ He groans, eventually rolling back to tilt his head up towards the flowing fabric draped over the canopy frame above them. ] Can we just stay here for the day?
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[ she wriggles in to stay close to him without thinking, still holding his hand. ]
Well, I'm not going to fight you on that, even if our stomachs might. [ his, especially. ]
We could take a morning nap. [ ignoring the fact that they just woke up. she's cozy. percy's still warm and she's leeching that warmth. he does have a good point about staying here all day. perhaps they at least deserve a long lie-in after the night's not so cozy start. ]
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He considers breakfast and getting something to eat, and while the concept's nice, it does mean having to leave the bed and probably facing down their fellow roommates. Speaking of which ... ]
Was it bad?
[ Clearly no one had gone out to get an Adult Supervisor or anyone with a higher authoritative power to uh ... subdue him, so. Maybe it was ... manageable? He can't remember. ]
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inbox.
random question
but you have't heard from clarisse, have you?
oh boy
Did you hear something? Is she okay?
r i p
no, I haven't heard anything
kinda what I'm worried about?
she ditched our movie night in Eddie's Horizon
hasn't mind-messaged me or whatever back when I asked why
[ he has... a very bad feeling about this. ]
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[ This is where Percy will make his own attempt to reach out through mind-messaging, with the kind of stupid joke that would definitely rile Clarisse up into a response, no matter what she was up to.
And when there's nothing but silence ... ]
Okay, so ... consider me worried too. The joke I just made would have had her rolling her eyes and then sending me a punch I could feel through this messaging thing but all I got is radio silence too.
Does this kinda thing happen a lot? People just disappear?
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🎁
[ so, right before they go to the nether, percy will get his handmade presents for the solstice and wintertide season. ]
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(Also no written letter is appreciated.)
His reaction is simple, predictable, but no less sincere. It starts with a grin that grows and grows until it could split his face neatly in two. Then it's followed by an enthusiastic little demonstration of sorts for each of the pieces, a dumb puppet show with the little knitted fish friend that could make any real fish jealous (or offended, depending on the sensibility of the fish), and concludes with Percy sweeping his girlfriend up in a flurry of kisses. ]