when floods they came or tides they raised — opens + closed

[seaweedbrain]

Who: percy + various
When: post-event (mid-may to mid-june)
Where: horizon, thorne, nocwich
What: a catch-all for post-event shenanigans
Warnings: will warn as needed!


🔱


[ feel free to hit me up over on plurk (thwip), discord, or PM to plot! ]

Comments

closed to will solace — ;

[seaweedbrain]

[ Percy gives himself some time before he steps back into the Horizon once some of the initial fear of it is replaced by his need to check on his friends outside of Thorne. It's part-curiousity, part-stupidity that pulls him in, as well as an attempt to test the waters (heh) to see if it'd change anything, and wanting to be sure that his connecting into the Singularity doesn't turn him eldritch-y and disgusting.

And thankfully for him, it doesn't.

If anything, he imagines himself out of his Thorne clothing, the silk shirts and sandals gone in exchange for a Camp Half-Blood tee and jeans. In his Converse shoes, he feels more at home, and with the vast (re-)imaginings of Camp Half-Blood surrounding him in their collective cul-de-sac, it only strengthens the little ache in his chest that sets him exploring a little past the boundaries of his own Horizon.

It's at Will's slice of the Horizon, which feels a lot like deja vu, that Percy catches some movement and approaches. And it's some camp-engrained reflex that has him stopping before he gets too close, the rule about entering into other cabins (except in those rare life-death situations, or being assigned cabin cleaning duty) rooting him to his spot, just by the scattering of little yellow flowers that sprout out from the patches of grass and soil.

Huh. Have these always been at Camp? Sorry to all the nymphs who would be so offended by his ignorance either way. ]

Hey, man — it's been a long time! I feel like I haven't seen you in eight hundred years.

[ Ha ha ha ...

Look, when dealing with trauma, you've gotta bring out the jokes. ]

[sonofacesius]

[If it's one universal thing he's noticed ever since the Summoned were thrown to the Singularity, it was this almost universal dread of the Horizon. Barring Will and the few others who ended up just taking a short 3 week long nap. And now? Now he would never make fun of Nico and his extended comataose states again. And honestly? That was kind of weirding him out almost as much as everyone else was weirded out about the Horizon.

So, Will had been trying to relax. Mostly because he'd been barred from the Clinic for at least an hour because Nadine believed in the weird concept of work/life balance. After arguing about it, well, she had won. And had then offered him weed. He had decided that maybe the Horizon or going for a run were safer options for demigods. So, there he was lying on his cot in Cabin 7 staring at the ceiling, when he heard Percy's voice. Thank the Gods. He practically ran out to see him. Like Percy, Will was in his usual camp garb, orange t-shirt, cargo shorts, and flip flops that he totally did not also nearly kill himself with in Tartarus. Look they were comfy okay?]

Yeaaaaaah, I heard you guys had some sort of mass hallucination or something? Do we now hold the record for the longest time a demigod has passed out?

[Did the time Percy was out for like 6 months count? Was he technically unconscious?]

You okay? I just keep feeding people cookies.

[3 week nap usually meant huge power expenditure right? It was breaking his brain. So far no one had refrained from taking the treats but, he was sure it was a bit weird.

But for demigods? Will fully expected the standard 'I'm fine!' demigod response that came out when everything was literally on fire.]

[seaweedbrain]

[ Well, the flip-flops are a choice, but in the Horizon there doesn't appear to be anything trying to kill or manipulate them, at least nothing they don't create on their own, and for that Percy's gotta respect the footwear.

It represents ... your own choices, your own control over things. It's hard not to feel relieved by that. ]

Uh.

[ Has he been internally waxing poetic on what basically amounts to foot-thongs? Jeez. ]

Yeah. [ He rubs the back of his neck. ] Yeah, I'm okay. [ Point to Will for predicting that. ] It was ... I don't know what it was, some shared fake dream stuff, I guess. You — didn't get in on it, huh?

[ He's sure he would have run into Will if that was the case. He remembers keeping tabs on his fellow Camp Half-Blood campers, even if he didn't remember why he needed to. ]

You wouldn't happen to have a couple cookies on you now, would you?

[sonofacesius]

[Will would definitely let him wax poetic about foot thongs. He had a deep and abiding love for sandals and flip flops and despite what Chiron said, he had absolutely no problem running in them thank you very much. Besides, as Percy had pointed out, it was the Horizon. Nothing was going to hurt them here, so, he was going to enjoy his own fashion choices.]

Nope, I guess I just passed out for ...a couple of weeks I? Now I know how Nico felt when he first shadow traveled. That's kind of an insane amount of sleep. I don't suppose I didn't just experience the same thing you guys did and just don't remember? If Mr. D was here he'd probably know. Or Clovis.

[But it was just them. The best they had were Nico and Annabeth, which....were actually pretty good. But they weren't exactly sleep and hallucination experts. Will dug into his satchel and produced a couple of cookies.]

Carry them everywhere. Here you go.

closed to annabeth, clarisse — ;

[seaweedbrain]

[ It's hard to arrange a meeting point in a place you've never even been to before, but somehow the three demigods in all of their chaos and impulse manage it. 'The pub', or the 'most pub-ish looking establishment' in Nocwich's main village is a good enough descriptor for the agreed upon location where Percy and Annabeth now await Clarisse.

No, they couldn't technically drink if they were back in the US, but even if they could, Percy's pretty okay keeping away from the heavy ales and strong lagers. Drinking anything other than blue Gatorade, blue Coke, or nectar when injured just seems like taking unnecessary chances with unappealing beverages, and he's not about that life. So while Annabeth grabs some waters for them, and Percy snags a table closest to the doors, there isn't a whole lot else to do but people watch and hope that Clarisse manages to find her way.

The tiny little stipend, aka their Thorne Allowance™, helps. With it, Percy manages to find some interesting things to snack on along the way, a special bag of treats for the stable horses (at their insistent request, complete with directions), and still have a little left over for dinner before heading back to the castle.

It's still an adjustment, being here, and being back here after all of those centuries spent in his own head, imagining himself like some weird, twisted version of his dad (yeah, that's the closest comparison he can think of and that makes him so mad and also so embarrassed). Everything just feels very ... back to this world's version of normal; no one even bats an eyelash in his direction because nothing had actually happened.

It's fine though, he definitely prefers it this way. Better to lie low while he gets his bearings than snag anyone's attention, especially after being Hera's personal pet project for six months, and the gods' general punching bag and target board. And he hates to think about all of the stuff he'd forgotten, like now he's gotta be extra careful to remember the important stuff in case it might slip away.

You'd think having gone through something like this not too long ago (see: being Hera's personal pet project), he'd be used to it by now, but it turns out you can never really get used to having your memories messed with until you forget just about everything that makes you, well, you.

It's with this pleasant last thought that he's interrupted by the sound of a chair scraping forward and Annabeth now returned to the table with more than just water, but what looks to be a bowl of snacks as well. They're no Chex Mix but it's still something. ]

Uh. No sign of Clarisse yet. [ He reports, as though he hadn't been thoroughly distracted just now. ]

[sophos]

[ while she's up getting some waters, annabeth also makes a last minute decision to bring over some snacks too. she orders herself a little bowl of some kind of olive spread. she doesn't have a lot (see: any) experience in pubs or taverns or even bars, but she's pretty sure the drinking and eating are part of the social experience, so she will make them all look the part. percy grabs the table, she gets the supplies: divide and conquer. ]

[ she's seen clarisse in the horizon after they all arrived, but it's not the same as being in person, and it's certainly not the same as eight hundred years of false godhood. she finds she prefers the pub. there's a lot of bustle and noise, but the atmosphere is lively enough that she's more aware of her surroundings than distracted by every little thing. and she'd rather be tuned in to that than her own thoughts. it feels real here - the laughter and the smells, the way she has to zig-zag between bodies to avoid collision. ]

[ the last time she spoke to clarisse, annabeth had been clinging to the illusion and stuck in her denial. clarisse's attempts hadn't worked, and they parted on not so great terms, annabeth too wound up in the self-importance of godhood. she feels... embarrassed, if she had to admit it (which she will not, out loud), but it churns over in her gut anyway. she doesn't want it to be weird, now that they're all back to normal. ]

[ she sinks down into the chair next to percy, laying out her gathered table spread, then just... shifts her chair a little closer to him. she's not on top of him, but her leg is close enough to press against his and feel grounded. there's a certain anxiousness buzzing through her, which is stupid, because it's just clarisse - but there's a lot about the illusion that's still overwhelming annabeth, and her difficulties leaving it are among the biggest. it had taken three people and a literal dunk in the ocean to get through to her. she can't help but wonder what it says about her, and she's afraid to bring it up. ]

[ she wraps her hands around her water and takes a sip. ]

I'm sure she'll barrel in soon. [ a beat, as she takes in his distracted expression. ] You sure you didn't just miss her?

[areou]

( clarisse hasn't seen either one of them since the great godening of fuck you, personally. she hasn't seen either of them in person since before then. since before they even got here, which combined probably makes about seven months — and even then, she'd barely seen either one of them long enough at camp to really catch up before she had to catch a plane back to arizona. the timing of it all has been spectacularly awful, especially now with the god-level dream-vision bullshit. where the fuck do they even begin?

she's been avoiding the horizon for a reason. which isn't to say she's been avoiding them, exactly, but that might've been an extension of it at first. mostly, she just wants nothing to do with the fucking singularity or any of that bullshit for a while, not until she knows — or, well, annabeth knows — more about it. so she's been busying herself with training instead, the easiest and technically mandatory habit to fall back into. she doesn't mind doing gruntwork around the free cities, either, as long as it keeps her mind off of all the things she doesn't want to acknowledge. just like home, really.

it's not until percy reaches out, mentioning something about nocwich — which she vaguely remembers someone had mentioned to her on the network as the closest thing to a neutral territory — that she bothers to actually take a break from her duties. it's almost a joke when she asks for time off; even her commanding officer had been wondering if she'd just run herself into the ground first. and maybe she would have if percy hadn't said anything about meeting up, about wanting to talk. she could have easily chosen to keep on ignoring things — but the truth is, no amount of training or physical labor or guard duty could distract her forever, and she's never been good at being alone. nico and will have each other, and apollo — is apollo. just because she let him do her hair that one time doesn't make them besties. she misses her friends. she misses her best friends.

so, speak of the devil or however it goes. she's not quite summoned, but she does barrel in fairly soon after annabeth mentions her, the tavern floor practically shuddering under her step. she's in something closer to civvies rather than her military uniform, but there's still a knife strapped to the inside of her boot. she was told she wouldn't be allowed to bring her standard-issue sword due to the vague neutrality of nocwich, but she'd refused to step foot in a place run by vampires and werewolves without some kind of weapon. she's learned her lesson from her brief stint in the badlands when she first arrived. the monsters here are not as easy to kill as the ones back home.

she scans the tavern as she enters, making note of the various patrons and their dispositions (not necessarily on edge, but always distantly aware of the atmosphere needed to start a bar brawl; they're in the clear, for now), her gaze landing on the table where percy and annabeth have already made themselves somewhat comfortable for a brief moment before she beelines toward the bar to grab a drink. something strong, she tells the barkeep, because she imagines she's going to need it for the conversation she's about to walk into. talking, historically, is not her strongest suit. and, frankly, if they don't want her starting a bar brawl, she's gonna need a little help from her good friend jack daniel — or whatever they fuck they have here that's whiskey-adjacent.

and, because she doesn't want the two of them to feel left out, she orders a couple ciders too, which are probably more their speed, anyway. no one ever said she was going to be responsible about this, even if she is the oldest. they've all been through enough shit she thinks they deserve to partake in a little of the devil's nectar (not to be confused with hades' nectar, which is categorically not the same thing). or she'll drink the ciders if they don't. she's not forcing anyone to do anything.

she weaves through the crowded tables, somehow managing not to spill anything even as she narrowly avoids bumping into a burly man twice her size. she nods in greeting rather than waving, her hands full of drinks until she sets them on the tabletop, pushing the ciders toward the two of them without waiting for anyone to make objections. not that she really cares if they do. )

Two for the ladies, ( she says, a self-satisfied smirk tugging at her mouth. yes, she's including you in that, percy. ) One for me.

( she tugs a seat out and drops into it unceremoniously, grabbing the pint of something-like-whiskey and holding it aloft in a toast. )

προπίνω σοι.

[seaweedbrain]

[ The eventual sight of Clarisse, which honestly doesn't take long after Annabeth returns from the bar with snacks and waters, is almost a sight for sore eyes. He'd never admit it, at least not so blatantly or ... you know ... aloud, but the familiarity of the three of them here in this completely foreign place is something he can't help but cling to, like he could easily find comfort in it.

After everything they'd gone through, both at home and here and in those 800 long years of godly illusions and lies, the normalcy of this moment has no problem whatsoever to find a way to stick out in his brain. Yeah. Even all the way down to her very in-character joke.

There's an exasperated sigh and an indulgent rolling of his eyes but he nods in thanks for the offered cider, and lifts the mug to her toast, as is only right. And he shoots Annabeth a brief look of amusement, as though to say, Yeah, I wouldn't have missed that. ]

Cheers.

[ A small sip later (and okay, the cider isn't actually so bad ... it's tart and juice-like so maybe he can go on drinking this after all), and Percy puts his mug down to give Clarisse a quick study. He didn't have a chance to thank her for waking him out of that nightmare since they got back, and he isn't sure how to do it even now. ]

You doing okay? You look like you're in one piece at least.

closed to annabeth — ;

[seaweedbrain]

[ The last little bit has been ... an adjustment. After escaping the Singularity's crater of doom and giving every last soldier standing around it the major stink-eye before departing, Thorne has almost felt like something of a safe space.

Imagine that, right?

He'd kept his head down, refused to do any magic studies because the last thing he wanted was to be around more failing magic, mostly volunteered to muck out the stables, and spent an inordinate amount of his free time hanging out with the horses. The higher-ups left him alone, but if they hadn't, Percy was willing to fist-fight every last one of them until they relented.

Maybe the horses felt normal. Maybe he just needed to busy himself with anything that didn't have to do with the swirling myriad of memories, too many of them to fit in his very limited-sized head.

He doesn't mean to keep his distance from Annabeth, at least not intentionally so, but it'd felt so weird being back and still remembering how ... obsessed he'd been with her that it was too embarrassing to face her. Like, she's the love of his life and he can't imagine an existence without her, but he thinks of those things in a completely normal teenage way. What he'd been in their false lives, what he'd felt ... it was next level.

And we're not even going to touch what it meant to be a god at all and how much of himself it cost. Not yet. Maybe not ever. (Okay, just — not yet.)

He's finished wrapping up another well-spent afternoon with the horses, learning that Ailluin the chestnut brown-hide mare totally hated her rider and wanted nothing more than to buck him off at every turn (something about giving her the wrong sugar cubes or feed once), when he passes by the castle's festivities, catching the sweet, sugary whiff of icing sugar and freshly-baked sponge cake. His first thought is to look for anything kinda squidgy looking in case one of the hoity-toity chefs were about to chuck it into the trash, especially anything blue, because he's kind of hungry and could use a snack.

And his second thought is the depressing reminder that they'd celebrated (yeah, sure, 'celebrated') Annabeth's birthday in literal hell, surrounded by liquid fire and acidic air and the symphonic sounds of blood-curdling screams of pain. It didn't even come with a pretty cupcake.

Putting his own feelings of awkwardness aside, by the time Percy finds Annabeth it's nearing evening, but he's got a pastel-pink-orange-yellow sunset cupcake thing going. It got a middling seal of 'well at least it's edible' from the champion pastry chef, which is just about the best that Percy can do under current circumstances, and then he'd tracked down the smallest, thinnest candle he could find, wrapped it all up in a janky little box, and has it hidden now behind his back.

He offers her a wave with his free hand, still feeling so stupid, but his heart skips a beat when he sees her because it's been all day since he has. ]

Uh. Hey.

[sophos]

[ things are going great for annabeth, thanks for asking. they'd successfully made it out of the illusion, out of the crater, and she almost welcomes being back in thorne - except for the next part, where percy slips into a habit she thought was over with. ]

[ it feels like he's avoiding her. it's nothing overt, and maybe it's just her own paranoia, given her already heightened emotional state that she's trying very hard to smother. ]

[ she's not panicking about it. she's not! they've both just been through the ringer. she knows she feels like she's still being tugged in fifty directions, so, like, she gets it. the first day back is odd, even a little chaotic, as everyone adjusts to their return and the striking familiarity of made up centuries. she is trying very hard not to think about the kind of god she became, a bizarro parallel of her mother, with a certain cruel carelessness towards mortals and a desperation to cling to the power she had to shape the world. ]

[ they had dinner, and percy took a visit to the stables. annabeth went to the library. really, it wasn't that unusual. he came back a little late, but that's not inherently weird for an adhd demigod either. ]

[ day two is really what throws her. percy dips near first thing in the morning, with a quick explanation of his plans and a casual goodbye kiss before he disappears again to the stables, and she feels a little unmoored. the whole experience has her feeling unsteady, and she might have expected him to weather it with her - but maybe it's too much, given how she'd reacted when he tried to pull her out of it. what she did. but she doesn't want to think about it, so she pushes herself into her own vices; she haunts the library, observes more magic demonstrations, but increasingly finds it harder and harder to stay focused as the day goes by without him popping by. they spend a lot of time together - it's noticeable when he disappears for what turns out to be the whole day. ]

[ she goes down to the stables in the afternoon, and he isn't there. she lingers, thinking maybe he briefly stepped out, but flees when someone comes in to snag one of the horses. ]

[ she forgets about dinner and finds a little nook in the castle, a bench by a windowsill in a low trafficked hallway, and climbs up into it with a notebook. she tries to scribble notes and read some old ones, but her thoughts go off track almost immediately as she curls into herself and into the corner. is... percy mad at her? no. he would tell her. they're not that stupid anymore. but he hasn't come to find her all day, and she can't deny it makes her anxious, especially in the face of eight hundred years imaginary memories and her very real memories of people who were supposed to be family too. ]

[ but her face still lights up automatically when she sees him, before dimming just a smidge when it catches up to her that this is in fact the first time she's seen him since this morning and the worry that churns with that thought. ]

Hi. [ she pauses, then forces herself to be vulnerable. ] I - I missed you, today.

[seaweedbrain]

[ It doesn't occur to him to question why she's sequestered herself in this small, inconsequential corner of the castle, at least not yet. He just hopes that his confectionary remains intact and isn't like, melted to a failure of icing pooled at the bottom of the box, and also he hopes that he can get through this conversation without being reminded again of how absolutely stupid he'd acted in those fake memories.

Like, not even the barest semblance of cool, Annabeth must be ultra embarrassed of the way he'd been, right? Way to go, Jackson.

Except she's just said she missed him, and the words are out of his mouth before he can help himself, an automatic reflex and an honest confession. ]

I missed you too.

[ Because he has, even if he'd made efforts to give them a little distance, like he's gotta make up for how clingy he'd been in fake-god-world. ]

Um. [ Oh, right. ] Anyway, I — uh. Made —? [ Words!!!

Percy swallows, and without hesitation, pulls the box up from hiding and offers it to her. He tries to speak again and succeeds this time.

Miracles do happen once in a while. Even for him. ]

This is for you. Happy belated Birthday.

[sophos]

[ annabeth brightens a little again when he says he missed her too, and she feels silly over how nice it is to be missed, but in her defense she spent all day feeling the opposite. ]

[ whatever she's expecting of him, it's not this. she sort of stares at the box for a second, because she honestly hasn't thought about her birthday since they were in tartarus, and given she hasn't wanted to think about the pits of hell, it certainly fell to the wayside too. not to mention the fake centuries and apparent three weeks it was in reality - her birthday really does feel so long ago. his could very well be closer now, for all she knows. ]

[ with embarrassed delay, she sets her notebook down and reaches for the box instead, holding it a little gingerly. ]

Um. [ smart, clever, excellent work. she slides her hands over the lid, curling her fingers to pull it off. yes, perfect, she can easily focus on a belated birthday gift instead of literally anything else in her head. ] Should I open it now? Here?

open: horizon — ;

[seaweedbrain]

[ It still feels a little weird to be here Considering Everything, but Percy's no stranger to following the 'eyes closed, head first, can't lose' approach in life. And while the first time had been a little nerve wracking, it feels better now.

Ish.

For one thing, he has a better handle of getting around, and his memory is in tip-top shape, something that actually deserves a medal at this point for how many times he's been unceremoniously dumped into places without his memory intact. It's almost getting to become a running gag, except he's the punchline.

If you happen to stumble into Percy's Horizon this day, you'll likely notice the seaside cottage first, a friendly blue door only partially closed, as though inviting you in. The house itself is a little run down and could probably use a good cleaning and a paint job, but it feels cozy. Inside is a seating area outfitted with a couple of well worn armchairs that could have been taken from your grandma's house, a couch with a too-colourful afghan draped across it, and a table with little knick-knacks (random boardgame pieces left out of their boxes, coasters for mugs, a set of keys to a car he doesn't have and can't really drive) and a small pile of large, shiny gold coins belonging to a very specific, ancient currency.

There's a kitchen with an old-school refrigerator stocked with blue Coke cans, blue Gatorade, and an iced blue cake. Yes, there's a theme. And sure, you can certainly ask about it. On the worn wood counter is a tupperware box with blue coloured chocolate chip cookies.

Step out from the back of the cottage and you might catch a salty scent, and hear the sound of the ocean nearby, but you might also catch the sight of Manhattan's skyline in the distance, the Empire State Building glowing blue. There's a small strawberry patch down the path, and if you look back up to where you came from, you'll notice that the cottage suddenly looks a little more like a Greek wood-log cabin, a trident prominently displayed over the doorway.

Percy can be found anywhere within the cottage, continuing to add a little more detail into his Horizon, adding colour to paintings on the wall, or titles to books he's never read. Seeing you, he'll offer a smile. He's dressed in a bright orange t-shirt emblazoned with Camp Half-Blood across the chest, and jeans and topsider sneakers. In other words, he looks like your generic modern day teen. ]

Hey! Come on in. [ He waves a hand around the space as though to say, welcome to my humble home.

It might not have a whole lot of originality because it's all quite literally based on memory, and worldbuilding isn't exactly his line of expertise, but — ]

I gotta admit I've never actually read any of the books in this place, it's a whole thing. [ Maybe he'll stock the bare shelves with other things. ] But the made-up food here is pretty good, right?

[inthenameofhades]

"...Mother had a cottage, up on the Surface" Zagreus says softly, as Percy welcomes him in. "Not quite the same as this one, but...it reminds me of it anyway. Although I didn't actually go inside it much."

No, it was in the gardens that Zagreus met with his mother, and first got to know her. But the cottage had still been a prominent feature, and he thinks his mother would have liked this one too.

[seaweedbrain]

"Funny you say that, 'cause this is where my mom used to take me whenever we got to go on vacation. I guess I missed the place and thought I'd just recreated it here."

The truth is, he actually misses his mom. And after spending eight hundred fake years forgetting she even existed ... Percy feels like he owes it to her to reimagine it in painstaking detail. The pit of guilt doesn't sit well in his chest.

"But make yourself at home. You hungry or something? I mean, I know the food here isn't real but that's kind of the fun of it. Right?"

[inthenameofhades]

"Mothers must like cottages!" Zagreus says, with a short laugh. He takes a good look around the inside, which - with Zagreus being Zagreus - involves a lot of dashing around from place to place.

Zagreus isn't a demigod, but he'd probably fit in well among the hyperactive kids of Camp Half-Blood.

"I don't get hungry, actually! Benefits of being a god. But eating is nice! Surface food isn't quite the same as what we're used to in the Underworld, but I do like it. My host family has introduced me to quite a few mortal dishes."

[starscollapse]

It looks so.

[ Good, that is, the food. Like nothing she's ever seen before. Red berries from the ground — fresh and lovely, their scent perfuming the air and mixing with the ocean so near. There is a peacefulness here that settles something in Merrin, after the chaos of Recent Events. Everything here is built from memory alone and while none of it is real in the way she might wish (if only for the beauty of the cottage and its nearness to the calming sea), she enjoys seeing what others take with them and hold close, what they most wish to revisit over and over again in their mind.

She doesn't quite smile, but her expression softens as she draws closer, giving a friendly nod to acknowledge him. ]

You do not make your preferred color easily known.

[ The barest twitch of her lips now, as she attempts a...not-very-good joke. ]

Where would you have me start? Which to try?

[ Quite frankly, it all looks good, and though she understands it's not the same as truly consuming the food, she is curious as to how the various items taste. ]

[seaweedbrain]

[ So far Percy's only visitors have been his friends and others who are already familiar with Camp Half-Blood or stories about vacations with his mom in Montauk. Having someone over who isn't aware of his weird quirks or the context of a Greek demigod's ridiculous life is new.

It's not bad though, and he finds that he actually kind of enjoys having company over while he's here. Especially because he feels like himself again, and not the insane god that he'd been in fake-world.

Nevertheless, it takes a second for Percy to catch on to Merrin's joke, but then he laughs. It's hard to resist making everything in his fridge blue.

Thoughtfully, he looks to the cookies ... then shifts his gaze to the cake. ]

How do you feel about sweet things? I mean, 'cause there are levels to it, you know?

[starscollapse]

[ Life on Dathomir was...harsh, unforgiving, a world bathed in reddish hues, a land of desert and swamps with an abundance of hostile flora and fauna. Needless to say, there were few opportunities to indulge in sweet things, though when they were quite young, Merrin and her beloved Ilyana would sneak off together and at various times in amongst their adventures, they would attempt making their own (fairly disastrous) treats. Nothing at all like what's laid before her now.

So, she is intrigued, eager to try. His enthusiasm strikes a soft note within her and reminds her somewhat of Greez and his excitement whenever he'd make a new meal for the crew of the Mantis, always happy to share. ]

I have not sampled sweet things often, indulgences are rare to find.

Do you believe I should begin slowly? I have heard the phrase — to go easy on me. This is not me, I am the opposite. What is your favorite? We should start there.

[ In other words, hit me with your best shot. If she...knew that vernacular. ]

a little horizon wildcard

[diametrically]

[ When Cassian got up today, the last thing he had anticipated was trying to hunt down a bantha (an imaginary one at that) that had wandered far and outside of his domain. Bee had stuttered out an apology saying that he didn't know where exactly the bantha was but he thought it might have wandered back towards the lush green of Annabeth's domain.

Unfortunately a quick look through the the demi-god's domain comes up short. There are plenty of paths that lead to other domains, the domains of what he can only assume are the other demi-gods that reside in Abraxas. And if Annabeth hadn't ever laid eyes on a bantha before, it's likely that the same goes for the others. Which means he should probably find the creature soon.

Thankfully it's not too hard to try and figure out where it might have gone - he just had to follow the large bites that had been taken out of the topiary. Forest gives way to sand and the crashing of waves and sure enough, frolicking in the field of strawberries, is his missing bantha.

Taking care not to tread on the strawberries he reaches the bantha with a sigh. ]

I'm going to put a tracker on you.

[seaweedbrain]

[ Percy can't actually detect whether someone's been wandering into his Horizon while he's unaware, and he isn't sure if that's the kind of magic he can learn (or refuse to learn on account of his mild resistance to magic in general) anyway ... truthfully this stuff is still kind of beyond him, but he's had fun building his own little paradise at least.

He just so happens to be in his Horizon on the day that Cassian and his bantha wander through it, enjoying a blue muffin on the small porch of his cottage and kinda vibing with the peaceful sound of the ocean just past the shoreline.

It doesn't take him long to notice an unnatural movement rustling in the grass and particularly by the strawberry patch, before he's putting his breakfast down and heading towards it — because what is self-preservation to a demigod who constantly has something or someone trying to kill him at least three times a week on a regular basis anyhow?

He has no idea what to expect when he sees the familiar figure of Cassian (whom he realizes he hasn't actually spoken to or seen since ... all of that. Yep.) but his focus is solely on the great woolly beast with some seriously impressive curled horns snuffling at the red berried fruit still surprisingly intact. ]

— what in Hades is that thing?

[carmesi]

( it is not her intent to push past her horizon to some other unknown space—much less to be in this precise moment at this precise time, when cassian locates a lost bantha and percy seems all too excited at the sight of it. wanda also has no intent in staying here long, except mary—also happily joining her in this stroll—speeds off into a brisk trot, and wanda can't hold on onto the leash.

the dog has a target, and it tackles it: percy. )

Mary!

( wanda chastises, but then gives up rather quickly, seeing only the wagging of a fluffy tail over the shrubs, as the dog happily greets the young lad, who unfortunately got tossed back onto the ground from the moment.

she sighs, glancing over at cassian, looking at him and his creature oddly.

funny that they're all here. )

Also on a stroll?

( ignore the struggling boy. )

open: nocwich — ;

[seaweedbrain]

[ The moment they get permission to head into Nocwich, Percy doesn't hesitate to pick up his pendant and go.

Going to Nocwich means getting to take a much needed break from the Horizon, or thinking about the Horizon, and thus thinking about the Singularity. It means wandering around with a little more freedom than he gets while he's in Thorne, and most importantly, it means getting to be on the lookout for any familiar faces.

It turns out those familiar faces aren't just limited to the other campers (and one god) he knows from home though. If you had any kind of interaction with him during those eight hundred fake god years, do know that Percy's likely gonna be staring in your direction. He might wave a hand to catch your attention. Or he may just yell: ]

Hey! Hey, remember me?

[ At other times, he'll occupy himself with wandering around the marketplace though. There's probably no real point in it as he's got literally $0 on him, and while he could attempt to pilfer a couple of smaller trinkets, his mama taught him better and he keeps his hands to himself.

He'll give out glowing compliments if he passes by you trying something on from a stall though, offering a silly little double thumbs up. ]

That looks great on you, dude.

[ And at some point, Percy will investigate the spas and the hot springs, because of course he would. He's never been to one before, at least nothing fancy, and yeah he'll suffer the visiting patrons and werewolves showing off their junk or staring at him weirdly because he won't be doing that himself, nope.

The spas are a nice touch though, and while he's got one of the spaces on his own, he wouldn't refuse company so long as you're cool about it. If you do happen to step into one of the relaxation rooms, Percy (currently situated in a lounge chair, eyes closed and covered by a face towel) will politely request: ]

If it's not too much trouble, uh — do you think I could swap this tea or wine for something fizzy? Like a soda?

[ To wrap up a pleasant day, you might find Percy at the main stage catching one of the evening shows, happy enough to be lost within the crowd as he crunches on some kind of snack, and laughs, cheers, and whoops with the rest of the audience as appropriate. ]

This is almost better than Shakespeare in the Park!

[ Almost. ]

[ordinar]

[Wilhelm comes to the hot springs because it provides a decent cover for brooding under the guise of going out and doing something. Yeah, sure, he could stay in the castle and wallow in the elaborate baths, but the change of scenery is nice. It's been months since they were allowed to visit Nocwich. Picking his way past soaking werewolves and draconae, he finds a more secluded corner to sink into.

Except, it turns out he's not the only one seeking a little privacy. He opens his eyes at the splash of someone wading into the water nearby. The face is familiar — he's seen him around the castle. Catching the surreptitious looks the other boy is casting around, he offers:]

You know, they won't look at you so weird if you just take everything off.

[When he started saying it, it was supposed to be a friendly tip. But now that it's out of his mouth, he realizes it sounds like he's just flirting with him. Thank god his face is already pink from the heat of the springs.]

weeps so sorry for the delay! computer + health issues smh but i'm back! (also i'm crying at this)

[seaweedbrain]

Uh —

[ Sure, the comment probably was meant to be a little bit of helpful advice to a total spa newbie, but it doesn't take long for the pause between words to set in, and for both of them to realize how it could be reconstrued.

Percy's face also turns a little red and he clears his throat after the initial gormless reaction. He can let this get weird, or make it even weirder, or he can just lean into it and assure the other boy that everything's totally cool. ]

— yeah, you know, I put some real thought into it but I decided to embrace the mystery. Better to keep them wondering. Or more likely: judging.