( eachdraidh inbox )

[marred]

( AUDIO | TEXT | VIDEO | ACTION | GEORGE AND MARTHA | ETC )

( identifiers: luke castellan | ophiotaurus | αλεπού (the fox) | george and martha through luke castellan || LOCKET + COMPASS )

Comments

voice » DISCONNECT.

[marred]

[ he notes the slight sharpness to her tone, but he doesn't think on it. whatever clarisse's trauma is, he doesn't really care. she called him; she's keeping him away from kicking george and martha's asses for luring him into taking the longest nap of his life. even when he'd been on the streets, fending for himself, he'd never slept for this long. he can't even recall when he'd awoken, but he knows he went for his morning run, despite it snowing, and collapsed into bed instead of taking the medieval equivalent of a shower. ]

[ maia's still making a fuss until he steps toward her, the movement silencing her. when he takes a step backward, she begins to howl again. he doesn't even realise he's slipped into another tongue as he keeps his eye on maia, energetic and quiet the moment he takes another step toward her. ] Una mucca. [ how does one describe calliope? it's near impossible to find anything in the english language. she's the mother of cows, the big sister of the small herd he had been given as a boon for christmas, and — ] A pain in my ass. [ but he says it more fondly than he'd like. ]

[ thinking maia will remain behind his foot, propped up against the doorframe as he blocks her from leaping into the door itself, he unlocks it, it clicking and whirring and buzzing slightly over the locket as he holds it by his waist. his intricate lock system is still a work in process, but it's kept the fox at bay so far. the moment his door sighs open, maia leaps over his foot. ] Hey! Arrêtez! [ he's since learned she much likes it when he speaks to her in french, liking the other languages as he talks to her and teaches her how to not be a reckless little fox. george and martha have revealed as much, informing him quietly it makes her feel special, as he takes to speaking in english to them. she bolts down the corridor — ] Reviens! [ — and around the corner. ] Merde.

[ his door slams shut as he bolts down the corridor, feet pounding along the floor before he disconnects. ]

action »

[rues]

[ she almost says a what, because luke is doing that thing again where he switches languages, and it's simultaneously annoying and kind of hot at the same time — the latter of which she would like to keep as far away from describing luke as possible, despite the fact that she's been consciously aware of the fact that he is, in fact, strikingly attractive on more than one occasion (one in particular she'd like to erase from ever actually happening, because it's probably the most embarrassing thing she's ever done in the history of her life, and that includes taking off her t-shirt at the swimming pool when she was six because she wanted to be like one of the boys). ]

[ she can only assumes he translates himself, but it doesn't particularly clear any of clarisse's suspicions, nor does the tightness in her chest loosen. this calliope might be a pain in luke's ass, but it's clearly different from the way clarisse has been a pain in the ass. she wouldn't expect him to ever sound fond of her, not anymore. their time for fondness has long since passed; they grew up, and this is what they became. this is what they have to work with — or, at least, this is what clarisse has to work with, since she ruined the one opportunity they had to start over. ]

[ there's a retort on the tip of her tongue, something witty she could say about whoever he's meeting, but it evaporates before she has a chance to say anything, taken off guard by the fact that she actually understands the next words out of luke's mouth. her mother taught her some french when she was little, and she practiced some with silena; she's not anywhere near fluent, but she understands more than she speaks, anyway, and luke is obviously distracted by whatever is happening on his end of the line that she might as well just get a move on and try not to think about the other things she's heard luke say in french that weren't nearly as tasteful. ]

[ it doesn't take her long to get to the training grounds; she even takes a shortcut to save on time, because this is supposed to be sort of urgent, despite the fact that luke is off running around visiting some other girl before he decides to show up. but it's not like clarisse really cares (or, at least, that's what she'd like to tell herself), because it shouldn't really matter as long as he actually shows up. she wouldn't put it past him to stand her up, because, she'll be honest, she deserves a lot worse than that for all the shit she's put him through. but this is them on supposedly even ground, agreeing to at least call it square. a truce wouldn't be much of a truce if they kept trying to get back at each other. ]

[ she half expects luke to already be at the training grounds when she gets there, but for once she actually beats him at the punctuality game. it's a little awkward just standing around shifting her weight every now and again, pacing the field and occasionally taking out the pen that won't ever leave her pocket and twirling it idly in her fingers. she doesn't know what she's supposed to do with it; it's not like she can actually use it as a pen — but it wouldn't feel right using it as a sword. it's still percy's, not hers, and even if it chose her, for whatever reason, she's pretty sure it made a mistake. ]

action »

[marred]

[ when luke winds up slipping into another language, often he thinks he's translatable to those he's speaking to. sometimes, he's aware of it — often, he does it on purpose — but in the case of the drabwurld, he's a little out of touch with the sounds and shapes of the words he's speaking. he's always taken it for granted, being able to understand another language — reading, writing, hearing, or speaking it — without requiring the intense study another undertakes to understand each syllable and accent of a word. it's been too long since he had spoken anything other than english and greek, losing himself with kronos as the five years he had severed ties with those he cared for, lost too many people than he could originally cope with, and became a gaunt and hollow version of himself, he hadn't indulged himself in the french his mother had taught him (though, he doubts it to have been an actual lesson, given he knew it before he understood what language he was speaking) — and he had never wanted to, purposefully avoiding it as it reminded him of too much. ]

[ as for everything else, luke's oblivious — he chases after maia as she leads him through the hallways, jumping over fairies, flying a short distance in hopes of tackling the wild and agile fox, as she leads him to where it is he seeks. he's late to the training grounds as maia takes a detour, perhaps a little lost and a little too new to this castle layout. she remains a good distance ahead of him, running out into the training grounds. clarisse will be able to see her, a little red fox that comes to an abrupt halt, ears twitching as she assesses the area, before she turns on her heel and retraces her path at a blinding pace. but luke knocks into maia out of clarisse's sight, laughing as she slams into his legs and is dizzy enough for him to scoop her up within his arms and hold her to his chest. though he's breathing hard, the run through the castle is nothing new to luke. he doesn't bend over in hopes of catching his breath as he cards his fingers through maia's hair, scratching hard behind her ear to see her lean into his touch, eyes closing as she acts as though she hadn't run from him in the first place. ]

[ approaching her, his gaze doesn't linger for too long upon clarisse, looking to maia within his arms as she becomes content and relaxed within them. it's as if she had known where he had wished to go — and he supposes she truly did, smarter and more cunning than he and hermes could ever wish to be as she easily fools him into believing she's a kind and gentle and soft fox, as her small stature and her desire for affection often leads him astray. the moment he pulls his hand away, she shakes her head, blinking, as if surprised his affection would abandon her so abruptly — or at all. he's grinning at maia, still catching his breath, but he's at the end of another chase as his voice is audible and clear as he nods to the familiar pen he dislikes within her hands, ] Nice stationery. [ he doesn't trust that sword just like he doesn't trust blackjack; everything percy seems to own, save for the care package he had left luke for reasons he doesn't wish to think about, has always represented luke's guilt for the shit he had put that kid through. seeing it now, in her hands, gives him great pause. but he has to trust her — she's not the one who betrayed the entirety of his family. it's clear he's uneasy, though, despite how well he tries to hide it. ] You going to stab me with it?

action »

[rues]

[ clarisse startles; despite the appearance of maia only shortly before, clarisse hadn't been paying much attention, and the little fox hadn't caught her eye, her gaze too focused on the pen in her hands to notice much of anything else. maybe she shouldn't have let her guard down so much, but when an accidental movement could uncap riptide and have it transform into a sword, it seems like kind of a moot point. she doesn't look up at luke when he speaks, just mumbles an acknowledgement instead. it's clear he recognizes the pen — why wouldn't he? — but what exactly clarisse is going to do with it she still hasn't figured out. ]

[ she does finally look up at him, then, tearing her eyes away from riptide to stare at luke with an expression that reads something like why would i do that? with a shake of her head, ] I hadn't planned on it. [ honestly, she hasn't planned on using it ever, to stab anyone or anything. but they aren't here to talk about riptide or percy, so she shrugs and shoves the pen back into her pocket like it doesn't mean anything at all, even though it means more than she can conceivably put into words. she nods toward maia, a slight grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. ] Guess that's who you were yelling at earlier. [ but small talk isn't really why she's here, either. ]

[ she brings a hand to her neck, rubbing idly over the scar that still decorates her skin. ] But, like I said, I need to ask you something important. [ she sucks in a breath, then, ] Ridire tasked me to put together a team of elite shardbearers for the upcoming battle or maybe indefinitely, I don't know. I just — [ she hesitates, staring at maia for a moment before she looks back up to luke ] — I know I'd like you to be on it. [ despite all their conflict and differences, luke's saved her ass more times than she ever deserved from him; he's had her back even when she would have more likely stabbed him in his than look out for him. it's not exactly out of trust that she comes to luke (trust is complicated), but there is a certain kind of respect for everything he's done for her that has her standing before him today offering him a place on her team — a team of equals, because a leader is only as good as their followers, right? ] It's your choice: yes or no.

action »

[marred]

[ with her wet, little nose, maia brushes it beneath his chin. momentarily, he's distracted by her fussing, trying to calm her within his hands as he knows the moment he lets her leap from his embrace, she'll charge forth once more. but he ignores maia the moment clarisse's proposal actually comes forth. he looks at her, but it isn't with trepidation toward the pen-sword that clouds his gaze. his brows furrow for a quick moment before his lips part, looking at her as though she's grown the two heads that make ladon's physique. ]

[ he doesn't expect her to trust him. being asked to join an elite team of shardbearers by her is strange in itself. though he suspects she's merely doing so for his skill, as he's never been one to properly humble himself until he sounds as though he can barely hold a sword within his grip, let alone wield it, he knows it isn't for the trust she may embrace when she takes to nico or annabeth that sees her coming to him. he's a knight of the golden cadre, and it's within ridire she trusts, not him. but he still finds himself taken aback by her proposal, having never really expected, nor ever presumed, he'd have a place on any elite team where she held power within her hands to whisper a list of names into the shell of ridire's ear. ]

[ maia wriggles within his arms. looking down at her, luke does as he hadn't wished to do, lowering himself to let her leap from his arms. instead of bolting as he had predicted, she simply runs circles around clarisse's legs, before she widens her berth and encompasses them both in her running. returning to his full height, luke bites his lip for a moment. ] Uh. [ this hadn't been what he had been expecting when she'd abruptly woken him up from his impromptu nap. distracted by maia for a brief moment, he watches as she runs laps around them, never quite tiring, behaving as though she's a kid of hermes herself. though his father's cunningness thrums within his veins, he doesn't feel the desire to trick her and say yes, or even have her leap through so many flaming hoops to inevitably reveal his answer is truly no. after his long pause, he looks up at her, pressing his lips together as he glances down at his feet. instead of being sarcastic or even self-deprecating in tone, his own voice is soft, as it cracks slightly, ] I can't.

action »

[rues]

[ she's almost ready to throw in the towel and just say forget it, seeming to get the idea from his hesitation that he's not interested and she's wasting her time — but it's the fact that he says uh, which, for a master of communication, isn't something she's used to hearing him say, that has her staring at him expectantly, brows slightly furrowed as she isn't quite sure what she expects him to say next. not interested or straight up no are at the top of her list. ]

[ he surprises her with i can't after an impossibly long pause, leaving her heart beating slightly harder than it had been earlier. he almost looks guilty about turning her down, which probably isn't the case, but he's definitely acting weird, like he actually wants to let her down easy instead of laughing as he lets her down the hard way. ]

[ she tilts her head, as if she hadn't quite heard him right. ] Wait. You can't? [ she's not even sure she knows what that means. what's more important than fighting the unseelie who will just destroy all of them if they don't do something to stop them? ] Why not? [ she doesn't mean to sound so entitled, but she really had been banking on him saying yes and she's still not totally used to not getting her way when it comes to things like this; or, even if he had said no, she expected it to be because he just didn't want to join her team, not because of ... something else entirely. ]

action »

[marred]

[ it takes everything within his power to not roll his eyes at the entitlement she's simply simmering in. he feels guilty for a split second before it ultimately is pulverised beneath her foot. it's almost akin to how she's always surprised by the things he can do — he can teleport, he can find foxes, he can sing a damn taylor swift song and hit every note without flinching — and it's all because she's never really shown any interest in him. keeping what sir lancelot has asked of him quiet, it's been his own attempts at being sneaky and cunning, disallowing the unseelie to even know he's around, prepared to dismantle traps and the like with his ability to pick locks if there's any that happen to be on the field — and he simply just hasn't had anyone to tell. one is the loneliest number, even if two snakes insist it's now four and less lonely, what with the big personalities of a fox, a husband, and a surrogate mother possess. ]

[ closing his eyes for just a brief moment, he grits his teeth. but it does nothing to stop him from snapping. ] Because I can't. [ he thinks to leave it there, his answer standing for itself. it's the guilt he feels like she's pushing onto his shoulders, the guilt that has been forming upon the bone the moment she made her proposal, as he can't perform as she wants. to her impeccably high standards, he'll always fall — he doesn't know why she's so up in arms upset over the kid who disappoints everyone has done what he's best at with her. he rolls his eyes to diffuse how uncomfortable he is at feeling something other than mere irritation at her and her self-righteousness, as he shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest as maia ducks her head in a bush and hides. raising his eyebrows, he looks at her, tone biting, ] Lancelot asked me to be on the front lines, okay? I can probably count on one hand how many people there are in the court who can unlock any lock and happen to have a sword that can kill almost anything. [ it's the curses he thinks that sold it, but he thinks lancelot's merely a simple guy. if he says he can unlock a door within a minute, he's going to be sold. he's an easy sell. ]

[ but he really dislikes the manner in which he feels like a soldier expected to stand to attention simply because she has the favour of the high-king. he's never obeyed a single command unless it worked in his favour — or someone like beckendorf had asked, treating him like a human being as he expected luke to say no instead of yes — and he's not going to start, especially with clarisse la rue barking orders at him. he may not be a commander or a general, he may simply be a foot soldier expected to heel when the big guys within the court ask him to — and he has, he stupidly has with lancelot, but he thinks the seelie marshall's seen him for more than his abilities, even though that's how he's sold himself to him. he's always felt like he's beneath her — and it comes bubbling up now with her expectation that he'd say yes simply because she asked him. yes or no, she says, when he truly has no choice. ]

[ his brows pinch, his tone still sharp, ] So, I'm going to have to circle the slash between yes and no on your little form. [ he's tempted to snap you don't need me, anyway but he doesn't particularly wish to hear her reply you're right, i don't. ]

action »

[rues]

[ there's a kind of jealousy, an outrage, that bubbles up beneath clarisse's skin and at the back of her throat when luke mentions lancelot, but she swallows it down, forces herself to bite her tongue and keep her mouth shut. this isn't an argument; she's simply being outranked. and if the seelie marshall needs luke, there isn't much say she could have in the matter, not even if she took it up with ridire. but she wouldn't — luke isn't some plaything to fight over, and despite the childish whining in the back of her head, the tantrum she could throw over not getting what she wants, she knows she has to trust lancelot on this one (and she can't afford to let her sense of entitlement drive her actions as she'd let it during the titan war). ]

[ luke's right, anyway — and, by extension, lancelot. clarisse knows luke would be better suited to the front lines, which is why she tries her hardest not to sound too upset or disappointed or defensive that he'll be fighting in this war on a different front. she's still all of those things, but she understands this isn't just about her or her team, and taking out her irrational disappointment on luke isn't fair. before the truce, she wouldn't have cared, would have just kept barreling onward and turning this whole thing around on him, making it seem like it's his fault when it really isn't — but things are different now, and reigning in her temper has been something she's really been trying to work on, especially after she nearly ruined the negotiations with the cothromach. words may not be her strongest suit, but attempting to choose them more carefully instead of just blurting out whatever emotion-fueled rhetoric comes to mind might be something she's slowly picking up from luke's influence. ]

[ she raises a hand defensively, almost in surrender, brows drawn tightly together, more out of frustration than anger. she knows when to pick her battles, and this isn't one of them, even if she could very easily make it one. ] Okay. I get it. If Lancelot needs you, that's the end of it. [ she keeps the would've been nice to know before i wasted my time sitting on the edge of her tongue to herself. it's not anyone's fault but her own. ]

action »

[marred]

[ luke hadn't bothered to fight lancelot on it, either. he hadn't known clarisse was considering, and even then, he knows where he's best suited. it isn't infiltrating a castle, even though he knows he's probably one of the better candidates as he instantly knows his way around, capable of unlocking any cursed lock, and fighting in close quarters — but he doesn't think he's so integral to her little side mission that it'll fall apart without him. the team has her on it. he isn't necessary. ]

[ he thinks to say great, but maia steals his attention from him by running into his leg before sitting on his foot. moving it gently beneath her, she raises herself and steps back. squatting down, he picks her up, her wriggling in his grasp before she settles against his neck and shoulder. her nose is cold against his throat, but he doesn't think anything of it. just as he doesn't dwell on her not fighting for him, either. she's a kid of war, she knows her place in the military ranks. he knows if it was him, he'd damn the hierarchy to hades and insist she's better suited on his team — it's probably why no hermes commander has ever lived long enough to make it into the history books. ]

[ he doesn't notice his shadow darkening before it begins to move again, his left hand pointing at clarisse. ]

action »

[rues]

[ she's about to say i guess we're done here and head to annabeth's, but she's distracted for a moment by maia, who manages to bring a twitch of a smile to her face before she notices that, yet again, luke's shadow is doing that thing. she can't help but jump slightly, as it's currently pointing at her — why does this only ever happen around her, anyway? ]

Oh, for fuck's sake, not this again. [ this is a joke, right? she doesn't sound enthused in the slightest, staring down at luke's shadow unimpressed. there's a slight edge of panic to her voice, considering the shadow is pointing at her, and she still doesn't know how this whole thing works. it's just supposed to lead him to something, right? last time it let him to maia; it doesn't occur to her that it would always lead him to a fox, and she's currently standing right in the direction he's supposed to go, so of course she'd think the shadow might be trying to tell him something completely different. she's had enough experience with bullshit signs from the gods to know this wouldn't be the weirdest one. ]

[ she steps to the side, just to see if the shadow follows her; thankfully, it doesn't, which at least settles some of the anxiety swelling in her chest. with a war on the horizon, she really didn't want to have to deal with someone (or something) thinking it was funny to try and play matchmaker. ] You're going to follow it, aren't you. [ it's not even a question, because she already knows the answer. of course he is. and she'll probably end up following him, just out of curiosity. it's like the shadow knows, even if it doesn't. ]

action »

[marred]

[ a second before clarisse even speaks, maia begins to wriggle violently within his arms. releasing her, she leaps from where she had allowed him to cradle her to his chest as she bounds in the direction of where his shadow is pointing. luke glances up the moment maia's feet hit the ground, expecting her to linger and nip at his shoelaces and the wings of his converse as she often does. his lips begin to form what? until he glances down and notes his shadow is pointing to her. immediately, he knows it's not at her, as she's neither a fox nor even one of black shuck's own (not like him). he does expect one to be right behind her legs, but, of course, as per how it had been with maia, this discovery requires a little travel and adventure. ]

[ looking up at her, she says what he's thinking — the very action he's chosen to take. maybe it's careless in the true scope of things, but luke's never been careful. living on the side of recklessness, if he never heeded his instincts into telling him to follow his shadow, he never would've found maia at all. and he thinks about it now, what it would be like without her — she may just be a fox, a quite little thing that often thinks his bed is her own, but she's family. george and martha treat her as if she's their own kid, in the similar manner in which they treat him. he doesn't even shrug his shoulder as he begins to walk, strides long as maia disappears behind some bushes. he doesn't have backbiter to cut through the gardens as he takes the longer route, walking along the dirt and destroying any print she has left within the earth as maia runs toward one side of the bailey. ]

[ and then she disappears in a bush, only to emerge, second later, from the left. she disappears again, running in sharp and fast circles, as she emerges to disappear to only reappear again. but instead of diving into the bush to continue her circle, she pushes her head through the leaves with her tail and hind legs sticking out. to him, it isn't thick, merely a small bush that's grown in patches, but to her, it's an adventure — and it's one he doesn't want to tug her into his arms and pull her away from. he approaches her, brows pinched, a bemused laugh in his voice, ] What's got you so worked up?

[ and then he sees them: two foxes tackling and rolling with one another on the dirt. a pure white and a not so pure white, he notes how the grey upon the latter's fur is more clean than the one the colour of snow as dirt and mud and leaves stick to her coat. thinking this adventure to be shorter than when he had discovered her, he's taken aback by the sight of two instead of one. he crosses his arms over his chest as he shakes his head with a laugh. ] Guess you got family, Maia.