Olympia

The annual pre-Agon bash was Legacy Academy’s worst kept secret. Considering most of the staff were alumni, that wasn’t exactly surprising. Generally, there was a long standing tradition that for this one night, the teachers would turn a blind eye, the consensus being if the students were old enough to risk death in the field for gods and glory, they’d earned the right to some Grey Goose. For the students’ sakes that was fortunate, as some idiot this year had decided on a rave theme, and that light show was fucking hard to miss.

“Whatever happened to being subtle…” Lee grumbled, feeling thoroughly old as he stared across the lake to the student side of campus. Fifteen years wasn’t a comparatively long period of time in the grand scheme of things, especially to the company he’d been keeping lately, but in this moment it felt like a yawning chasm that had somehow begun to define his life. Fifteen years ago, it had been him acting like a dumbass at that party, naïve, reckless, actually eager for the day to come. He’d walked into that slaughter with a grin on his face, so sure he was about to get his petty wish to humiliate his father. How much that wish had cost him…Lee took another swig from his half empty bottle of bourbon, hoping he could wash down the unpleasant memories threatening to surface.

“Ouch, what’s your liver done to you lately?” The voice brushed past him like a soft summer wind, spreading warmth across Lee’s skin that has nothing to do with the bourbon. He shivered, not interested in the peace being offered. Lee didn’t deserve it tonight, and being comforted by a god somehow felt like a betrayal of those he’d lost. The fact they were...whatever it was they were doing here...it didn’t change that. So Lee said nothing. Stoney silence had a wonderful habit of making people leave.

Side stepping the hint, Apollo saddled up to him instead, gently reaching for the bourbon. “Alright…but maybe we should at least pace ourselves a little.” The tone wasn’t judgmental, but Lee snapped at him anyway.

“I don’t have a drinking problem Andy.” Lee jabbed at the god’s current moniker, cradling the bottle protectively to his side. If Apollo was offended by it, he hid his displeasure well, instead raising a brow as his summer green eyes swept across the pile of discarded bottles Lee may have pre-gamed with.

“Some of those are June’s.” It sounded defensive even to Lee’s ears, but he wasn’t going to apologize for it. Not tonight. Apollo agreed with a wane smile, sliding his hand down to Lee’s in a loose grip that the son of Poseidon was both grateful for, and immediately disgusted with himself for wanting. Even if it wasn’t tonight, demigods knew better than anyone how relationships between gods and mortals ended. Why Lee continued to court disaster with…it was beyond his logic. But he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from it either; betrayal or not.

Intimate moments are delicate things, hard to maintain and easily broken with the wrong kind of pressure. That was doubly true when one of the participants in question was emotionally handicapped. Not that Apollo minded or anything; that was just part of Lee’s charm, but it was difficult sometimes when it always felt like he was pulling away.

“Do you think they’re ready?” It was a question asked out of love, not lack of confidence, but even Lee could pick up the note of anxiety that lay within. The god of light, and music, and bedroom eyes was also a father, and a pretty damn good one as far as the gods went. Lee had lost friends, peers, and students to the Agon, but Apollo had lost children. Perhaps Lee wasn’t the only one in need of comfort tonight. His grip on the god’s hand tightened just a fraction, his thumb tracing circles along his skin as Lee watched Apollo flash a smile at someone from across the field.

“No one’s ever ready.” Lee admitted with another drag from the bottle. “But they’re strong, and they picked their friends wisely.” Sometimes that’s all anyone could rely on. Apollo had two daughters in the fray this year, and Lee knew both of them well. Lux was far more combatively competent than her sister, but Maya was no one to underestimate either. It also helped that they’d both been smart enough to align themselves onto some of the stronger looking teams this year. Lee couldn’t make promises they’d survive this, but he felt the odds were in their favor.

“Why do you go along with it?” Lee asked impulsively. It was something he’d never understood about the god who seemed content to masquerade as a human and steered clear of the politics in Olympia. Why support the Agon, the source of so much heartache for both of them, if he didn’t involve himself in the power plays that was its primary function.

“What’s the alternative, open war?” Apollo ran a hand through golden locks, the exhaustion of his tone suggesting he’d agonized over the issue quite a bit. “I’ve seen what that looks like, the death that sows. At least now they have a choice…some semblance of a childhood.” He seemed less convinced by the last part, but Lee didn’t comment, instead passing him the bourbon. It took a lot more than a bottle of Kentucky’s finest to get a god tipsy, but Lee figured he’d appreciate the gesture.

Their fingers lingered together on the bottle, and Apollo looked up as if to say something, or maybe do something else… Lee’s eyes lingered on full lips, plump and glossy in the moonlight, their faces inching slowly forward. Why was a sun god allowed to look so fucking good in this lighting?

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“WOOOOOOOO! LIZARDS RULE!”

You’d think these idiots never had tequila before. Abby thought tersely, as a junior covered in neon glow paint streaked across the field with nothing but a baseball cap shielding his delicate bits, and a sparkler waving frantically in hand. The scene up field wasn’t much tamer, as throngs of students covered in neon bounced and bobbed (in what Abby could only assume was an attempt at dancing) under pulsing strobe lights and black lit canvas. The makeshift dance floor and accompanying bars were covered in more of that glow paint, which was only made more surreal by the fireworks shooting off in the distance. Someone must have recruited the Hephaestus or Hecate kids for the pyrotechnics, because the colors stayed in the sky far longer than natural with pictures of everything from the classical to obscene dancing around in the sparks.

The spring air was warmer than usual tonight, which was fortunate for the student body since most of their outfits were on the bare side of skimpy. Enough to make Abby feel overdressed in her Aerosmith tee and cut-offs anyway, but she hunched into her jean jacket regardless. Party pooper? Maybe, but she definitely wasn’t drunk enough to be cooped up in this crowd. Big day coming up or not, that was a problem in Abby’s power to solve. Glancing around at the open bars, it looked like the neon theme had extended to the drinks, with brightly colored liquids and jello shots littering every flat surface. Whether it was simply clever lighting, or less perceivable sources giving the drinks that unearthly glow, Abby was more interested in the less assuming bottle of Jack. Unfortunately, it was sitting on the middle bar right by the dance floor…and Wesley Tate. Just because they were teammates didn’t mean she liked him, much less the gaggle of minions and leeches currently surrounding their self-proclaimed team leader. Abby would be stuck listening to his crap enough starting tomorrow…not to mention Sebastian, (Who came with his own special set of annoyances.) so she decided to take her chances at another bar.

Lux and Khayla (The two people here she might actually have enjoyed drinking with.) were nowhere in sight, but she spotted Maya Torres not surprisingly at the one tiki themed bar set up. It was both glaringly out of place with its fake palm trees and plastic birds, and somehow fit right in with the accompanying LED string lights and shimmering iridescent bubbles. Abby had a hunch the tiki bar had been Maya’s doing, if her hula skirt and light up coconut bra was anything to go by. Maya was alright, though not necessarily Abby’s first choice in drinking companion. Still, the lure of rum might have been enough to draw her that way if Abby hadn’t heard Lottie by the neighboring bar.

“Umm t-that’s ok, I don’t mind! I’m actually kind of chilly.” The shy demigod’s voice practically squeaked as she wrapped the ugliest neon green sweater Abby had ever seen more tightly around herself. Lottie was with a couple other sophomore girls in similarly warm clothing. “Lucas, we’re fine..really! We just wanted to dance…”

“Ah come ooooon! Ya don’t wanna overheat do ya? You’ll feel looooads betta wi tha clunky jumpa off; dress fer the occasion loves!” Abby couldn’t tell if the overly friendly redhead and his leering sidekicks were sophomores as well, but they definitely weren’t Lottie’s friends.

“Hey ginger, take a hike. They’re not interested.” Abby muscled her way over to the bar, casually placing herself between them as she reached toward the bottle of Hennessy on the counter. It wasn’t Jack Daniels, but it would do in a pinch.

“Oi! Tough girl! Tha’s me stash yer pilfering there! Ye gotta be showin a bit more skin ‘n tha ta be gettin anythin fer free!” Lucas had the audacity to laugh as he moved to intercept, but it wasn’t until he grabbed hold of her jacket collar as if to yank it down off her shoulder, that Abby snapped.

One second the ass was upright by the bar, and a flash of red later he was a good twenty feet away, flat on his back while cradling his broken bleeding nose. Abby was looming over him when sense returned, one foot resting on his crotch, which his howling suggested had already taken some abuse. ”Touch me, or any other girl here again without permission, and next time I’ll kick them off.” She ground her heel in again for good measure before glancing toward the miraculously intact bottle of whisky still in hand. “This is mine now.”

The crowd that had gathered to watch her pummel Lucky Charms parted like the red sea as she walked back toward Lottie, who looked like she was warring between relief and mortification.
“Oh um t-thanks Abby, but you didn’t have to do that. Lucas is mostly harmless y’know...” She glanced nervously around Abby’s shoulder at Lucas’s still prone figure. “Will he be alright?”

“I changed my mind, I’m taking one ball as insurance!” Abby hollered back toward the crowd. Lucas was up and darting away in a flash, confirming his status as a son of Hermes. “Looks fine to me.”

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The fireworks were in full swing by the time Jesse got back to campus, creeping stealthily through the main building like a thief in the night. Given her earlier activities that evening, it wasn’t a wholly inaccurate description. She’s been gone in Olympia for a number of days, not exactly what she would have preferred to do with a team to prep the week before the Agon, but if Val was right, this would help keep her kids safer than any last minute pep talk. Val’s classroom wasn’t hard to find. This time of night the school building was practically deserted, and the soft glow from the older woman’s desk lamp shown like a beacon as Jesse made her way quietly inside.

“You’re late. We expected you back at least a day ago.” Val didn’t even look up from her desk as she continued scribbling some kind of correspondence. She was old school like that, and hey, to each their own. Legacy Academy had never really pushed modern technology much outside the science department, but for a woman who valued efficiency as much as Val, you’d think email would be her thing. Still rude though, all things considered.


“Oh no, don’t worry about me. I made it out safe and sound after tracking down that milkrun of a grocery list you laid on me.” Jesse retorted dryly, shouldering off her pack. She’d been in too much of a hurry to change out of the silky getup she’d fled her last stop in, and as Valerie’s gaze finally left the desk, her eyes racked up Jesse’s frame with a lingering stare before settling with a pointedly raised brow.

“Get up to a bit of fun down there while you were at it? You know how the brass frowns on fraternizing with the locals. Tell me you at least used protection.” Valerie intoned in a manner Jesse was familiar enough with to know she was being teased, but rolled her eyes anyway. The silky lilac getup she’d filched was classically grecian, with a sleeveless cut and plunging bodice that denoted it’s wearer as working a very specific occupation. So y’know, assumptions could be made, but Val knew what her skill set was and why she’d been down there, so hardy har har.

“Well the evening did end with a little impromptu bondage, but all things considered, I think a fun time was had by all.” Jesse quipped back with a little smile as she thought back on dark eyes and a sinfully talented pair of lips that had seemed perpetually curved up with humor. Well...maybe not at the end there with the handcuffs, but remembering the look on his face once he realized what was happening had Jesse’s grin widening anyway. There were probably stealthier ways Jesse could have gotten into the mercenary’s room and found her prize, but it wouldn’t have been nearly as fun. Gorgon scales were pretty hard to come by, and cost a small fortune to get your hands on because of it. They’d been lucky Jesse was able to track down someone bringing them to auction at all. She pulled out a soft leather pouch, and set it on the desk before pulling out some of the more easily acquired supplies on her co-worker’s list.

Val snorted at Jesse’s satisfied look, and began cataloging her haul. “Well, let’s just hope you didn’t piss off anyone too important.” Jesse shrugged at the warning, not feeling overly concerned. There were a lot of mercenaries in Olympia, spread out among all the different kingdoms, they didn’t all play ball together as a collective unit. She’d probably pissed off one guy with a sword, and besides, It wasn’t like she was ever going to see him again anyway. Which felt kind of like a shame, a less rational part of her who’d enjoyed that heist a little too much sighed. It was also probably for the best though. Even if that bridge weren’t thoroughly burned, the no hanky panky rule was there for a reason, even if it did feel a bit hypocritical coming from the big man upstairs. People in Olympia weren’t really supposed to know that they were here, and pillow talk has never been very conducive for secret keeping. Jesse also dipped her toes into their world enough to know it wasn’t a good idea to be much more than a passing face in the crowd to anyone down there. Just because there was a stranglehold on lines of communication between worlds didn’t mean people were stupid.

“So how long does it take to brew this greyscale cure? Will it be ready by tomorrow for the kids?” Jesse asked, changing to subject to the business at hand. When Val had told her the challenge this year involved monster hunting, including gorgons, it hadn’t really taken much prodding to convince her they needed to make a safety net. Those were some pretty high danger targets, and while manticore venom and other monster related poisons had some common treatments in the academy infirmary, Greyscale was a much more dangerous affliction. When the gods are known to use something to punish crimes, they don’t make the cure for it easily available, so this little trip had been strictly off book.

“We’re a little behind the eightball here, but hopefully yes. Now I’ve got work to do.” Val replied with a wave of her hand, signaling a clear dismissal. It was a typical Val move, and Jesse was used to it enough from her friend, but she still huffed a little at the shrug off. “You did good work out there Jess, I wouldn’t have trusted this to just anyone. You should get some rest though...we’ve got a big day tomorrow.” Dark eyes softened a bit as they glanced up at the younger woman. There was something there in her eyes that bothered Jesse, almost like an apology. It was supremely out of character, and made her a little uncomfortable. But then...given what day it was, maybe Val was just feeling introspective. All the staff who’d survived the Labyrinth got a little off this time of year. Trauma could be like that, and they all handled it differently. Knowing Lee, he was probably halfway through a liquor store by now, and June had been in a baking frenzy before Jesse had left, so there was probably a veritable muffin army lurking about. So after a long, lingering look, Jesse decided to bite her tongue and turned away. Val was pretty private about her grief, and she could respect that. “Night then. You get some rest too okay.” Jesse called back softly in parting as she headed back toward her apartment.

XXXXX
XXXXXHades // Brain // Hex: #021104

For one long, torturous moment, Wes was afraid she’d say no. The hesitation was clear to see, every line of Lux’s body rigid as she looked at his hand, outstretched and waiting. Wes wasn’t used to this feeling, like balancing on creaking branches that could give way at any moment. It was unpredictable, and exhilarating in a way that left him feeling more flushed than the glass of whiskey he’d left behind. Wes had yet to decide if he hated it, or needed another hit. Then she took his hand, and rational thought wasn’t calling the shots anymore. Gently, he pulled her onto the dance floor, and as the opening notes of what would clearly be a slow song rang out, he moved a hand to her hip, grip possessive but painfully polite, despite his clear desire to run it lower. He didn’t have permission yet though, that clear and unambiguous yes that this dance they’d been doing around each other for a while now had left Wes aching for. However much it perturbed him to admit it.

I've gotta take a little time
A little time to think things over

The song playing in the background felt glaringly ironic, but Wes felt too hyper aware to truly enjoy it as he normally might. The floor had flooded with other couples pushing into the throng, and the lack of space seemed to draw them closer. The heat from where they touched, the scent of her shampoo, his senses were absorbed by her, muddled, taking in a thousand details at once and properly processing none. Wes’s face dipped closer to Lux, lips nearly grazing her ear. He aimed for smoothness, intent on saying something cheeky about her hat that would surely have them settle into their more comfortable playful bickering. Put them both back on even footing.

In my life, there's been heartache and pain
I don't know if I can face it again

“Promise me...you’ll be careful tomorrow.” Wes didn’t mean to say it, a halting plea that confessed too much, an anxiety he’d been fighting back for days. The key to a good strategy was detachment, a willingness to sacrifice a piece on the board if it served a greater purpose toward victory. You never win the game with all your pawns still standing, and it was dangerous to try. He couldn’t detach from Lux though, and she’d stopped being a pawn in his eyes a long time ago. It was a distraction, an exploitable weakness that part of Wes hated himself for. Another part didn’t care though, embraced it with a frighteningly possessive abandon, and Wes was too much of a tactician to see any value in deluding himself about it. Lux had become a piece on his board that was both a weapon, and to be protected at all costs. Fundamentally incompatible roles that left him feeling off center.

I wanna know what love is
I want you to show me
I wanna feel what love is
I know you can show me