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[marred]

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

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

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not really here » oops, sorry clarisse.

[marred]

[ if it were any other day, luke would laugh her threat off, almost welcoming it. his act of thievery would've been his attempt at goading her into action, seeing how far she'd go before she spat flames instead of words from her mouth. but unlike the previous occasions where he had messed with clarisse to get a rise out of her — an unexpected laugh or her expected fury — luke isn't thinking clearly when he steals the chariot once the demigod squad is occupied at the seelie meeting. ]

[ he should go and prove his worth, offering his services in any way he can, but a part of luke feels weighed down with stones at the notion of putting himself out there again to only be turned down. he can hear clarisse screeching he's a traitor! after every word he says in a bid to sell himself as a valuable asset. but as he can't find annabeth, planning to escort her to the meeting, lest she become lost and overwhelmed with caer glaem's floor plan, luke finds no sign of her. he tries to halt the panic rising in his chest, but it's a fruitless attempt. it's when he searches through his locket to call her he finds any trace of her having occupied a room erased, as though she hadn't existed within the confines of drabwurld to begin with. ]

[ it's unexplainable how he feels, feeling the very small thread he had been holding onto to keep his anger at bay snapping. forgoing the meeting, luke doesn't so much as wait until he knows the entire gang is occupied before he packs a bag, his boons and backbiter and a few items of clothing, before he runs to the kitchen and steals enough food to keep him from keeling over. he doesn't think of what it'll look like when he steals clarisse's chariot. it's merely a means of escaping, more convenient than tricking nico and being the reason for the boy looking more like death than his natural, ghostly complexion presents. he doesn't leave a note nor message, merely flying on adrenaline and anger and grief at the notion of annabeth having been brought to drabwurld to only be plucked from his fingers the moment he has the chance to say i'm sorry. perhaps this is the punishment he had been holding out for, to be given the one chance at redeeming himself and repairing a relationship he viewed as one of his pillars of strength and reason for waking each day while on the streets, to be stolen away from him like he thieves clarisse's own gift. ]

[ the message isn't a surprise to receive, but luke merely pockets his locket. he doesn't wish to reply, despite not knowing what he'd say, for once. he doesn't want another war. considering clarisse has been gunning for him from the moment they laid eyes on each other, he's not surprised she threatens him with such an act, prepared to take his head off with all the anger within her arsenal. he supposes saving her life and proving himself to be trustworthy is undone with what she'd see as an act of treachery, when all luke views it as is a boy not quite understanding what it is he's doing until he's up in the sky with the lights of caer glaem behind him. he needs to escape — and, so, he does just that, travelling away from it, as a child of hermes does. rather than confronting it head on, as a child of ares might, he flees, lest it catch hold of him and squeeze its arms around his torso so tight he can't breathe any longer. ]

[ fortunately for him, he has no plans on returning and finding out how good clarisse's own word is. ]