[b][h1][center][color=4286f4][i]Arthur Stanford[/i][/color][/center][/h1]
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[center][color=4286f4]Location:[/color]Argo III: Upperdeck
Skills: N/A[/center]
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	Arthur exhaled knowing he'd have to be on watch soon. Hopefully that would be a lot more relaxed than what they just went through, he didn't want things to constantly be on fire all the time. There were two ways he could have taken to this whole demigod business, either swinging or flailing, and ever since he was knocked down, it felt like he was flailing horribly and he had no idea how to stop. Looking out over the edge of the Argo III, he rested his hands on the rail, trying to relax and center his mind on the horizon, putting himself anywhere but here. He didn't think he was going to run away, but with each passing moment, it felt like that was what he wanted to do.

	Turning back to look at the people around him, he at least found comfort in the knowledge that they weren't horrible people. It seemed like they just took to all this so much better than he did, somehow able to weather the storm of misery and strike that battered them constantly. It was like a Stockholm syndrome, maybe, when you're a demigod long enough, you stop seeing all the bad things, and only pay attention to the good ones. That made sense to him, but he didn't know if he wanted to break like that. He wanted to be happy not in spite of bad circumstances, but in absence of them.