Mjolnir

Reign of the Usurper - low fantasy political intrigue (GOT inspired)

Can't wait to see what you come up with :)

Reign of the Usurper - low fantasy political intrigue (GOT inspired)

Thanks for your interest.

Application instructions and requirements are on the OOC thread. If you have questions you're welcome to DM me.

Reign of the Usurper - low fantasy political intrigue (GOT inspired)

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Bump!

We're still looking. I know the amount some of us write can be intimidating, but I genuinely do not expect people to write as much as I do. Some of us just get carried away lol. So please don't let that deter you :)

Camp Athens - Closed

^{#86a8ad ....|..... outfit .....|..... arena}

It was almost ironic how running an agility course or having to observe over thirty demigods tackle said course wasn’t exhausting, but juggling the onslaught of women that had approached him was. It wasn’t like any of them were trying to hit on him—well, none but one, thank the Gods—but it still felt like an unrelenting tide crashing down on him, wave after wave. Questions, judgements, brown nosing, and flirting, one after the other without ever giving him a chance to breathe. River expected questions and arguments, but that was different… Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he just wasn’t as prepared as he thought he was. He certainly felt that way.

While his father loved to talk, or more pointedly he liked to hear himself talk, Poseidon was a little lax on actually giving instructions. ‘Train them to be warriors. Train them like I trained you.’ Cryptic and unhelpful. He didn’t train River. He unloaded the weight of unrealistic expectations on the shoulders of a boy, demanded perfection, and came back once a year to show him no matter how hard he trained, no matter how much he had grown, it wasn’t enough… It was never enough. There was no explanation as to why he was sent there instead of someone like Maylisse, or anyone else for that matter. The seasoned demigods seemed to rally behind Andy. So why was he sent to replace her? They were valid questions that he didn’t have an answer for, but people would ask them all the same.

River groaned, burying his face into his calloused palms as he lowered his elbows down to rest upon his knees. He could handle being the hated drill instructor… for the most part, but whatever the other girl was doing—What was her name? His brows furrowed as he dragged his hands down his face, stopping when the tips of his fingers rested on his cheeks and he could open his eyes. He stared blankly toward the course for a second trying to recall if she ever actually introduced herself before his gaze fell to his clipboard that sat on the bench beside him. He squinted for a second, weighing if he cared enough to look, then finally sighed and scooped it up. It took the better part of a minute flipping through pages until he found her. Couldn’t swim, one of the lower performers, Aphrodite child… Veronica.

By the time he set the clipboard back down he had lost his train of thought. River drew in a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes as he rested his hands against the back of his neck. He tilted his head back trying to stretch some of the tension from his muscles when another voice, quiet and far too close to be meant for anybody but himself, cut through the quiet bubble that surrounded him.

"Hungry?"

His chest tightened and shoulders tensed as his gaze dragged across the dirt and sand covered ground until he found a small pair of sneakers. Then it climbed dark leggings—a woman, obviously. Great, another one.—and a familiar sloth sweatshirt until his eyes locked onto Anissa, holding out a plastic to-go bag like a quiet offering. His breath tore from his lungs in a deep, relieved exhale as his shoulders slumped forward and all the tension that had been knotting and coiling in his muscles melted away in an instant.

"Thank the Gods it’s just you." River was able to settle into that comfort for no more than a second or two before what he said caught up to him. His eyes widened as his awkward and anxious rambling replaced whatever discomfort had taken up residence in him before. "I didn’t mean it like that. There’s just been a lot of people asking questions I don’t have answers to… and a sister I didn’t know I had… and some Aphrodite girl who needs therapy and—"

He snapped his mouth shut, along with his eyes, as he ran his hands against his thighs until they rested on his knees and he locked his elbows with a sigh. Gods, she’s not there two fucking seconds and he’s already rambling. "I… sorry." River’s face scrunched, letting his eyes slowly open so he could steal an apologetic glance up toward her. "I’m just thankful it’s you and not… literally anyone else." A faint, apologetic smile tightened his lips and curled one corner of his mouth.

His gaze fell, watching as her gloved hand disappeared into the plastic bag, withdrawing a white foam container and holding it out toward him. Before she spoke, River reached out subconsciously, like he’d take anything she offered him with hesitation or question. His fingers curled around the side, accidentally brushing hers which immediately made a warmth burn across his cheeks, but he didn’t pull away. It’d be kind of silly after… Well, everything.

"I wasn’t sure what you liked," Anissa said, filling the silence with a tone that was plain, simple in a way he didn’t know if she had ever been with him before. "So I chose something that seemed… okay. It’s lamb. But if you’d rather the chicken, that’s in the other one." Then she paused, for only a second or two. "Or, you know, you can mix it up, have a bit of both? I just figured… You might not have had anything this morning."

River’s finger lightly tapped against hers in a gesture of unseen softness that spoke of his gratitude… and something else that had yet to find its way across his lips and out of his mouth. "Thanks," he finally responded, little more than a whisper, taking the box and setting it down on top of his legs gingerly, like the offering was more precious than simple styrofoam filled with food. "I got kind of wrapped up in everything and forgot."

Not a moment later, the smell of fresh warm food bombarded his senses and immediately caused his stomach to growl so loud there was no way she didn’t hear it. River laughed, the tone light but still laced with the awkward comfort he was quickly learning was only present when Anissa was around. His smile shifted to something a little more bashful as one of his hands rubbed his stomach. "Guess you were onto something," he mused with a soft chuckle.

After a second of calming his now restless stomach, he grabbed his clipboard and jacket, moving them out of the way to clear a spot on the bench beside him. He didn’t say anything, didn’t want her to feel like she was obligated to sit with him while she ate or waited or whatever it was that she planned on doing. But the offer was there whenever she wanted it, now or later… whenever. It didn’t matter.

He cleared his throat, pulling his attention from her as he opened the box that rested in his lap. The savory smell of the roasted meat that was steaming with warmth wafted freely up to his nose. It wasn’t a scent he was familiar with, but that didn’t make it any less appetizing. "I’ve never had lamb," he confessed, studying the thin bones protruding from the meat before looking up and over at her. "It was kind of out of my mom’s budget growing up," River added with a quiet, amused laugh. "We had a lot of pork… and fish, obviously."

His smile was soft, almost warm in the way it sparked something behind his eyes that had been absent since training had started. He looked back down at the meat and without any ceremony or show, he picked up one piece by the bone and took a bite. It was rich and savory, unlike anything he had tried before. River could understand why it was less common, between the price and, you know, the obvious source. But he liked it. Afterall, it was food, meat specifically, and he was a man… It really wasn’t that high of a bar.

After taking a second bite, he held it out toward Anissa in his own silent offering. He didn’t know where her tastes lied when it came to lamb or chicken, but he wasn’t adverse when it came to sharing either. He probably should have been using a fork or something that was probably somewhere in that bag, but it looked kind of like a chicken wing or rib so he just went for it. Then he grabbed one of the little roasted potatoes between his fingers and popped it into his mouth like it was popcorn, unbothered. The silence settled around them for a handful of minutes as River shoveled in food like he hadn’t eaten in over a day because… Well… He thought back to his morning the day before climbing the mountain, finding his cabin, passing out on the couch, and then the party. Ok, so he hadn’t eaten in over a day. That would make sense.

It was only when the box was half empty that he slowed down, letting his gaze drift toward the last two groups that were finishing their second run. "I don’t think I’m going to be a liked leader," River confessed plainly, like he wasn’t seeking compassion or sympathy, but there was a quiet understanding that had settled in his chest that he hadn’t fully grasped until that moment. It made sense. He was a fairly isolated child, didn’t have many friends and had less once Poseidon took over his life. There’s no guilt when you force the person who was used to being alone into a role that was destined to isolate them further. Not that the Gods likely felt guilt in the first place.

He shrugged his shoulders as the truth settled into the muscles of his back that felt perpetually tensed. But despite it, River’s faint, tired smile remained. "There are worse things, I suppose," he mused before ripping off a piece of bread and eating it with a soft exhale through his nose.

^{interactions ....|.... anissa ............... mentions ....|.... maylisse, andy & veronica ............... collabs ....|.... none}

Reign of the Usurper - low fantasy political intrigue (GOT inspired)

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2 open roles looking to be filled

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We've recently had two vacancies open up in Reign of the Usurper that we're looking to fill! The ruling Lords of Harrowfield and Salt Spire are open for anyone interested in applying. The RP is in its infancy, on the cusp of diving into the excitement of a feast followed by a ball, which is a wonderfully easy place for new writers and characters to join in!

If you're interested, please see the ooc thread for application requirements and a deeper explanation of the RP, and its lore.

I would also recommend reading through the posts to get a feel for the universe, characters and the writing levels of your fellow writers, but considering some of these posts are quite long I completely understand waiting until you know you've been accepted. (Feel free to skip House Bray posts because they are no longer in the RP)

Disclaimer : We are currently toward the back half of introductions (the Lords presenting their families to the nobles). Following that they will be moving to a feast. This will put a little rush on a first post (which can be a collab with me, including the introductions of your family to mine), but I am available a majority of the day and can get at least one collab addition done a day. This is nothing to worry much about. We can talk about it more if you're interested and I'm always available to answer any questions :)

Feel free to DM @Mjolnir with any questions, applications, or if you'd just like a sounding board to bounce around ideas!

We all look forward to welcoming two more families into our RP!

Camp Athens - Closed

^{#0bbdaf ....|..... outfit .....|..... main hall}

Tapeesa really wasn’t paying much attention to the comings and goings in the Main Hall. Her first priority was food, which she half shoveled into her mouth without ceremony. She had been hungry before, sure, but there this was an entirely different level of hunger. Something about running an agility course twice, while also healing so much that she quite literally sapped herself made her feel like a drained battery desperate for a recharge. Focusing on eating was easier than letting her mind wander to Nate, how everything changed in a matter of minutes, or the twisting guilt that nearly made her lose her appetite on more than one occasion.

She had taken a small break to pace herself and crack open into her bottle of apple juice when an unfamiliar guy with dark brown hair stopped in front of her table. "Powers and a workout? Or do we call a demigod protection agency for neglect?"

Her brows tugged together a little confused, slowly pulling the bottle from her lips with a bashful smile. Before she could reply one way or another, her hand quickly covered her mouth just before a burp slipped out. Her gaze fell to where he knocked on the table and then he was gone, trailing after the pretty girl with red hair, without Tappi so much as getting a word in. That was a little odd, but she just chalked it up to him being friendly rather than ignoring her like the one random newbie sitting alone. Not that she minded at that current moment. She didn’t imagine she’d be the most thrilling company right—

Another demigod Tapeesa couldn’t recall seeing, or running into, sat down across from her without a word, like it was entirely natural and they had sat together for lunch before. Maybe it was a camp hospitality type thing, or people were more friendly outside of a party? No, that wouldn’t make sense. She was never the type to turn down the potential for new friends, it was just rotten luck that people started finding her interesting when she was hungry and grumpy and in desperate need of a nap. Regardless, she wasn’t going to ask the girl to leave, or get up and walk away herself. Some people didn’t like eating alone. She could understand that. She might not be the best company, but she’d try nevertheless.

Tappi gave her best smile, fatigued and frayed around the edges, but even in her exhaustion there was still a warmth that lingered behind it, but it was more like the flicker of a candle rather than bright like sunlight. She didn’t say anything, just noted the girl's dark eyes and darker hair, and the way she ate her berries with similar gusto. Her gaze fell back down to her plate, where she picked up her fork and returned to skewering lettuce, cheese, and a crouton, then promptly shoved it into her mouth.

"Hi, don’t mind me." The girl finally spoke, breaking the soft silence between them. "Or, do. You know, whatever works, I just didn’t want to sit alone like the weird kid on the first day of school. Some day, huh? I’ve just arrived, and on the first day we got put into that. Intense. Crazy."

"Hi," Tapeesa replied, mumbling through the mouthful of food, holding her hand up in front of her lips so she wasn’t wildly impolite… just mildly. After she swallowed, her smile returned, a little awkward, but no less genuine. "It’s ok. I don’t mind." She stabbed the tines of her fork into her salad, more idly than purposeful. "I arrived last night in the middle of a New Year’s party. But I got lost in the woods for a couple hours trying to find this place and didn’t get much sleep." She shrugged her shoulders. "I don’t think many people got much sleep… Or they’re hungover. Maybe both." She chuckled softly before taking another bite a little less like a rabid dog.

"Gods, I am starving. Hiking up that mountain took it out of me. I met a dog, though, well, he’s not really a dog. He’s like us, I guess. He’s new, too."

Tapeesa’s brows furrowed and her head tilted to the side slightly as she tried to follow, although she felt like she was missing important context somewhere. The silence dragged out for a couple seconds as she tried to recall everything she read in her mythology book, but she didn’t remember anything about dogs… or dog people? Although, the book was mythology and definitely had no information about the current status of demigods and Gods… Her brain hurt. She didn’t have enough sleep. Rather than try to make sense of it, she simply nodded with a lopsided smile that said something along the lines of ‘oh yes, I too met a dog boy.’

"I’m Callista, by the way."

After swallowing her food, Tapeesa wiped off her palms along her pants before extending her hand across the table, tattooed fingers peeking out from beneath the sleeve of her hoodie. She paused for a second, cocking her head to the side at her own awkward formality before curling her fingers into a ball with a soft laugh. "Sorry." She shook her head. "This is camp, not a job interview," she mused while grabbing her bottle of juice. "I’m Tapeesa."

She settled into her seat, slouching slightly as she started pushing her food around with her fork, trying to decide if she was still hungry, had guilt nausea, or if the early stages of a food coma was fogging at the edges of her mind. Tapeesa’s lips parted, preparing to ask or say… something but the second her attention lifted from her plate, her gaze snapped to a familiar head of red hair like a beacon she couldn’t look away from. Her eyes followed him as he crossed the hall and found a table as far away as possible. A weight, heavy like lead, settled in the pit of her stomach, stealing her appetite and what bit of her smile remained.

It took more effort than she wanted to admit to look away, if only to avoid being caught staring if he happened to look up. There was a part of her that wanted to go to him, but her current company was a reluctant boon that helped Tappi not make a fool out of herself. She took a second to get a grasp on her emotions… by burying them deep deep down, before forcing a small smile as she looked back over at Callista.

"My dad’s Apollo," she said, filling the silence before there was a chance to be asked why she was acting weird. It would be nice to have someone to talk to about those kinds of things with… You know, like boys. But Tapeesa didn’t know how comfortable she was unloading all of that on someone she just met either. "People around here seem to be very curious about that. I think it’s more of a avoid hitting on your sibling kind of thing, but… either way." She shrugged her shoulders with a weak laugh.

Whatever attempt at a conversation she had been building in her head vanished the second Nate walked into the hall. She forced a tight, polite smile, praying the girl wouldn't notice how her knuckles had gone white around her fork. She was struggling to think with him in the room. The air felt different, heavier… and Tapeesa knew that if she blinked, her eyes would betray her and find him instantly.

^{interactions ....|.... daniel & callista ............... mentions ....|.... nate ............... collabs ....|.... none}

Star Wars: Shadows of the New Republic

Rishi was a quiet planet with little to offer and often overlooked like most of the Rishi Maze following the Clone Wars. Smart ex-imperialists turned themselves into the New Republic and joined the First Order. Bold ex-imperialists took their men and their ships, and set a course for the unknown regions of the galaxy, choosing to brave uncharted space rather than the judgement of the senate. Moff Vaxillion Thray was neither smart nor brave. He was a man who clung to his power like it was his life blood and was reluctant to part with it. That’s what led him to the Rishi Maze. A dwarf galaxy ignored and forgotten and conveniently close to Scarif was his definition of ‘hiding in plain sight.’

That was until Thray, in all of his wisdom, took himself, his men, and his giant star destroyer on a little jaunt to refill his coaxium stores. Giant imperial vessels never went unnoticed, even less so post Empire. In a shocking—and definitely not predictable—turn of events, the New Republic Rangers found them hidden behind the dark side of Rishi’s moon. With their isolated sect of Imperial Remnant low on supplies, men, and willpower, the battle was swift and brutal… and over before it began.

Escape pods were filled quickly, some stole whatever ships they could get their hands on and fled, but most died in the crash. A decade later all that remained was the metal husk of the star destroyer embedded in a Rishi gorge, a permanent fixture in the mountain around it, half crushed, hollowed out for scrap, and overrun with foliage and wildlife… And Zefer.

2 1 . A B Y ...|... R I S H I ...|... A B A N D O N E D . I M P E R I A L . B A S E

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The humidity on Rishi was a relentless enemy. Everything was always wet, like the planet itself was sweating under the oppressive weight of the air. Zefer had forgotten what it was like to be dry, always finding herself in a constant state of dampness. If it wasn’t from the air, or the mist that rolled off the waterfall and filled the hanger bay, then it was from sweat. Her palms were always slick, tools fought her grip, and anything electrical was a coin toss if it was going to zap her simply for existing in a permanent state of conductivity.

It was no surprise the Empire abandoned that place long before its fall. Most of the Troopers Zefer had the displeasure of working alongside were dumber than GNK droids. Walking liabilities on a good day. Leaving a bunch of bucket heads bored and wandering around a base like that probably cost the Empire more credits than it saved. She had been living in that dank and rusted cave for over ten years and there were still days where she’d stumble upon the aftermath of where a dumb Trooper stuck their nose—or finger—where it didn’t belong. Wetness, stupidity, and technology did not mix.

The humidity was unbearable, but the silence was worse. That’s why, against sound logic, when she found the base her first priority was repairing and reprogramming one of the KX security droids that had been left behind. Then she worried about getting off world. K0-R3 was her only companion, even if his primary function these days seemed to be providing unsolicited commentary that often made Zefer want to shut him off and shove him in a storage closet… Which she may or may not have done on occasion.

Two long ashen white braids hung out of the bottom hatch of a refurbished and heavily modified TIE fighter that sat in the middle of the hanger bay. The high cavern walls echoed and amplified the roar of the waterfall and every clink, bang and clank that rattled around in the ship’s engine. After one last metallic thunk and a few struggled grunts, Zefer uncurled from where she was wedged in the small compartment. Grease stained and dripping a mixture of humidity, sweat, and hydraulic fluid, she half emerged from the bowels of the machine.

Dangling upside down beneath the ship, she wiped sweat from her brow, replacing it with a streak of oil before pointing at her workbench along the far wall. "Kore, hand me the hydrospanner," Zefer grunted, then drew in a deep breath of fresh air before she started folding herself back into the tight space. "The lateral thruster is sticking again," she added, her voice muffled and echoing inside the cramped engine housing.

Outside of the ship there was no sound beyond the rushing of the falls and the occasional drip of the mountain’s sweat falling from the ceiling of the cave. Zefer’s head poked back out of the hatch, finding K0-R3 standing where he was before, water dripping from his brushed steel plating, photoreceptors glowing an indifferent white.

Zefer rolled her eyes, rocking her head back and forth dramatically. "Please."

"Yes. Of course," the droid replied in a flat, metallic monotone. He moved with the familiar echoing tink tink of his metal feet carrying his weight across the hanger toward the work bench. He retrieved the tool and returned, his scratched and worn silver arm extending into view, dangling the hydrospanner just out of reach.

She scowled, stretching further out of the ship and snatching the tool from his hand. "I don’t remember giving you manners," Zefer huffed as she pulled herself back up into the engine compartment.

"You didn’t," K0-R3 replied, factually. "I procured an etiquette data disc when we were last on Nal Hutta."

"Procured?"

"Stole," the droid corrected as if fixing an error in code, not admitting to stealing from one of the Galaxy’s largest crime syndicates.

There was a loud bang, a groan, the rattling of something heavy falling through a maze of metal, followed by the hydrospanner clattering to the ground beneath the TIE fighter. Zefer poked out of the hatch once again, oil slicked fingers staining her white hair as she rubbed her head. "You stole from the Hutts?"

"I do not believe the Hutts intend on learning social etiquette." The observation was based on calculations, probability and basic arithmetic. The Hutts have used manners in 0.02% of their interactions… in recorded history. The likelihood was slim. "The disc was also corroded… And in the garbage."

Zefer held onto the side of the ship as she leaned farther out of the hatch to scoop back up her tool. "I’m starting to wonder if the bounty is on me… or you." She gave her droid a sidelong glance before vanishing up into the engine once again.

"I am a machine and your property. An identifying accessory," he explained as if she hadn’t seen the bounty pucks herself. "The bounty is for a ‘gray trooper.’ Last I checked, I was not a Trooper. But if you provide me with a mirror I could check."

"I should switch you to binary."

"You don’t know binary."

"... Exactly."

After a few more minutes of banging, grunting, and grumbling, Zefer untangled herself from the engine of the TIE fighter and slipped out of the hatch. As she climbed out from under the ship, she kicked the door shut and dropped the hydrospanner into her tool belt. She stood beside K0-R3, stretching and popping nearly every joint in her body before wiping her sweat and grease slicked palms off on her pants. "That should do it, I think." She nodded her head once, satisfied, and rested her hands on her hips.

"According to my calculations, there is a 94% chance that the thruster will explode the moment you achieve lift-off," K0-R3 droned with his usual flat tone. "It would be a very entertaining way to conclude your career."

Zefer scoffed as she started picking up the scrap that was littering the ground around the ship and carried it over to her work bench. "It won’t explode. I insulated the fuel injector and replaced the fuel line."

"Ah, yes. You replaced an Imperial-grade fuel line with a length of reinforced plumbing hose you found in a supply closet," the droid replied, his photoreceptors dimming to a judgemental and unamused orange. "I have updated my calculations. The probability of a catastrophic explosion is now 98%. My apologies for the previous optimism."

She dropped her arm full of metal scrap onto the bench with a loud clatter that reverberated around the large cavern. Zefer gave the droid an incredulous glare before chucking a bolt at the lumbering chatterbox that tinged off his metallic domed head. "You are very talkative for being the one that got us into this mess."

"I am merely ensuring that when the Hutts find your charred remains, they will note that I provided ample warning," K0-R3 replied with a tilt of his head. "It is a matter of record keeping. Also, your technique with a spanner is… adventurous."

"Adventurous?"

"It is a polite way of stating you are hitting the reactor core with a heavy object and hoping for a miracle," the droid clarified. "Should I begin drafting your final transmission? Or shall we wait for the first spark?"

Zefer squinted and clicked her tongue. "You can start with charting a course for Bracca," she answered as she turned back toward her work bench and began organizing the scrap into various containers that lined the wall. "I’ve heard a functioning KX droid can fetch a high price."

There was a long pause. "That was uncalled for."

The lights in the hangar abruptly changed to a deep shade of red and started flashing as the loud wail of Imperial alarms signaled throughout the base. Zefer dropped everything, pivoting where she stood with her hand resting on the grip of her blaster that was holstered to her right thigh. She hurried toward the control panel on the far side of the bay, but K0-R3 was faster. By the time she reached the computer he was already slicing through security protocols, silencing the alarms, and projecting the alerts onto the display. "Two unidentified starships entered the atmosphere. One is heavily damaged and on a crash course for the mountain."

"Their approach?" Zefer asked as she quickly grabbed the old pair of electrobinoculars that sat on the table beside the control panel.

"Calculating." K0-R3’s head cocked to the side as his scomp link turned right one rotation, left twice, then held. "237 degrees Southwest."

Zefer hurried toward the side exit and threw open the door with a thrust of her hip. She stepped out onto the old rickety catwalk that hugged the side of the cliff, overlooking the gorge and the East facing side of the mountain. She stepped up to the railing and started to lift the binoculars when she heard metal creaking and felt the walkway beneath her shudder. Her attention snapped toward the exit where K0-R3 was one step out of the door.

"Woah, woah." Zefer held up her hands with wide eyes like trying to calm a frightened creature. "Weight limit."

K0-R3’s photoreceptors turned yellow as his head turned toward her. "I beg your pardon?"

"I would like to not fall to my death. This thing won’t support us both and I’m not made of metal."

"I will have you know that I am crafted from the highest quality, Imperial-grade, lightweight metals and plastics."

"Well, keep your Imperial-grade ass inside."

There was a series of mechanical whirrs followed by gears grinding like a sad robotic grown as he pulled his foot back into the hangar. But K0-R3 didn’t leave, he remained looming in the doorway like a weathered Imperial relic.

Zefer stepped toward the edge of the platform until her hips pressed into the rusting and wobbly railing. She squinted, scanning the sky until she found the streak of smoke trailing a dark line against the blue sky. She brought the binoculars to her eyes, zooming in as she followed the path, finding a rapidly descending mass of smoke, flames and metal. The ship was so mangled she couldn’t tell if there was life or even the ship’s model. She followed it like a meteor plummeting toward the planet’s surface, careening dangerously close to the mountain.

Just as it vanished beyond the hills and treeline something zoomed across her field view. Zefer pulled the binoculars away just in time to see an old Z-95 fly through the gorge and disappear overhead. It passed quickly, but she could have sworn she saw—"No, it can’t be," she muttered to herself. She leaned forward, torso hovering precariously over the expanse below. The only thing keeping her standing was a weathered old railing held up by rusted bolts. Her head cocked to the side like a predator listening for the signs of its prey. The rush of the waterfall was loud, muffling every other sound. She closed her eyes. Waiting. Focusing.

Then she heard it, the roar of an engine. The second she caught sight of the starship peeking over the top of the cliff and she pulled the binoculars up to her eyes. The paint was faded and chipped, but the symbol was clear as day along the wing. "Fuck."

"What did you see?" K0-R3 asked as he watched the ship disappear beyond the horizon.

Zefer shoved her way past the droid, forcing him to move back a step so she could get back inside and promptly closed the door. "Crimson Dawn."

"What is Crimson Dawn doing on Rishi?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Zefer crossed the hangar, tossing the electrobinoculars onto her work bench before lowering herself onto her squeaky stool. She rested her elbows on her knees before burying her face into the palms of her hands with a sigh. She could hide from one crime syndicate, sure. It was a big galaxy. But two? It had been months since she completed a bounty for them. There was no reason for them to be in Rishi. Unless… "Don’t lie to me, Kore. When we were on Kijimi—"

There was a sharp whirr that rumbled beneath the droid’s chest cavity that buzzed like an offended gasp. "I did not steal from Crimson Dawn. How stupid do you think I am?"

She groaned, running her hands down her face then slapped them against her thighs. "Currently?"

"It was two ships, not a fleet. They would have sent more."

"Not for me."

"Especially for you. They’ve sent more for less."

Zefer snorted, shaking her head in disbelief as she rubbed the back of her neck. "It doesn’t matter. Lock the blast doors. Kill everything that isn’t inside the cave. We’ll just… Wait it out." She blew out a deep breath, puffing up her lips as she stood up and pushed her stool aside. The metal wheels creaked and groaned until it bumped into a crate of scraps with a soft rattle. "If they’re still here after two rotations, then we’ll worry."

K0-R3 walked across the hangar, the sound of metal plates shifting and hydraulic joints flexing filled the silence along with the consistent roar of the falls. He stopped beside her, the soft white light of his receptors illuminating the side of her face. "There is a 97% chance that the Crimson Dawn ship was pursuing the wreck. And a 62% chance that it was the cause of the crash."

Zefer pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek and rested her hands on her hips. She studied the droid’s face as if the answer would present itself across its unchanging features. "What’s your point?"

"If Crimson Dawn is after it, then there is a high probability that something of value is within that wreckage."

"I’m not trying to collect bounties, Kore." She shook her head. "I’ll salvage what I can from the crash site when they’re gone. And if we’re lucky the fuel didn’t combust on landing. There is no amount of credits worth pissing off two syndicates." Zefer turned from him and set to tinkering with one of the numerous unfinished projects that littered her workspace. "Hell, I didn’t even wanna piss off one," she grumbled under her breath as she pulled her hydrospanner from her belt. Then she started trying to fit an updated scanner module to an old KX photoreceptor that was missing the appropriate adapters… and was too small.

"There could be a survivor," K0-R3 added.

"No, there isn’t," Zefer argued with a sidelong glance and a shake of her head while she worked on bending and snapping prongs to try and custom fit the male and female ends of the socket together.

"There was too much smoke to know for certain. You know I am correct."

Zefer gritted her teeth as she tried to force the two pieces together. Just when it looked like they were going to snap together the receptor cover popped off, flew across the room, and bounced off the wing of the TIE fighter with a quiet tink. She sighed, frustrated with the damn mod, frustrated with Kore… But mostly just pissed that he was right. She knew he was right, and the guilt would eat her alive if she didn’t go check.

"Damn it." She discarded the tool and scrap onto the table with a sharp clatter, sending two other pieces tumbling over the edge and rolling off somewhere. "Get the speeder ready."

"Right away," K0-R3 agreed with a nod of his head before wandering off deeper into the hangar.

R I S H I ...|... 5 . C L I C K S . W E S T ...|... C R A S H . S I T E

---

Zefer shut off the engine to the speeder before they reached the edge of the treeline, letting it slowly drift to a stop alongside some large bushes and dense underbrush. She hopped out of the driver’s seat, boots squelching into the damp forest floor. She slipped her blaster into its holster, slung her pulse rifle across her back, then grabbed the electrobinoculars that Kore had been dutifully guarding while she drove.

K0-R3’s head tilted sideways in apparent confusion at the lack of crashes, ships, and angry Crimson Dawn pilots. "What are we doing here?"

"Checking for survivors. Hello?" Her brows furrowed, creasing the markings along her forehead as she let out a quiet, wry laugh. "I’m going to climb that hill and check if there are survivors… quietly. And once I have proof that I am right, we’re going right back to the base and becoming ghosts until the Crimson Dawn pilot is gone." Zefer nodded her head resolutely as she adjusted the strap of her rifle and started toward the treeline.

"What if you’re wrong?"

"I’ll cross that bridge when I get there." She shrugged, flashing him an unconvincing grin.

"And what am I supposed to do while you’re gone? Rust?"

"You have your blaster, right?"

"Yes," he replied, holding up the blaster flat in his palm more like an offering rather than a weapon.

"Ok then." Zefer nodded her head. "Stay out of sight, shoot anything that tries to shoot you, and wait for my signal."

"What signal?"

"You will know."

"Will I?... What if you die?"

"Then… You have my permission to rust."

Without another word, ignoring any other questions or complaints that might have been muttered at her back, Zefer pushed through the brush and stepped out of the treeline. She started climbing the steep hill, using the rising column of smoke that was like a dark tear across the sky as her heading. Just before reaching the crest, she lowered herself to her knees and crawled through thick grass and mud until the valley came into view stretched out below her. Nestled between the two sharp apexes of the mountain was a stream that cut a gorge through the slate and rock. Smoke billowed from a crumpled mass of metal and debris that was half embedded in the hillside and then landing on the bank of the rippling water was the lone Z-95.

"... Shit."

Nidavellir

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Mayor Holt . . .
.

We need to talk. I'll find you tomorrow morning. 4:17 pm

To apologize. 4:17 pm

Tell June I already ate. 4:18 pm

Camp Athens - Closed

^{#A64017 ....|..... outfit .....|..... #c9bef3 ....|..... outfit .....|..... arena}

Colton shifted his weight then, still holding her hand, thumb brushing absently against her knuckles before he realized what he was doing and stilling it, and then dropping her hand all together, too flustered for words for a minute. “If you want,” he said, voice warming, steadier now despite the blush that refused to fade, “I could help you run the rest of the course. Just—help. No pressure. We can take it slow.” His smile returned, shy but bright, dimples cutting in deep as the arena’s warmth curled around them.

Blair’s attention fell to where she noticed the almost rhythmic, self-soothing way his thumb ran along the tops of her knuckles. It seemed the second her gaze settled on his hand, he pulled it away, but she didn’t comment on it, just letting her own hand fall gently to her side. "If you want to, I won't stop you." She lightly tapped the bottom of the water bottle against her palm. "But I am actually terrible at this shit… Like utterly and completely useless. I was born to be smart and pretty… and definitely not a warrior." Her smile was a bit lopsided, living in the space between gratitude and apology for the horrors he was going to witness if he lingered. "I’m not liable for injuries you sustain. I’ll just… You know, be mortified." She laughed awkwardly before making a show of opening the bottle he gave her and taking a long sip, even wiggling her brows slightly so he made note that she was, in fact, remaining hydrated.

Colton’s gaze lingered on her just long enough to catch the faint twitch of her brows, the little dance of self-consciousness she tried to hide behind humor. He felt it like sunlight through leaves, warm, fleeting, and impossibly sweet. There was no judgment in him, not a trace. In fact, the thought that she worried about failing at something, about being “useless” at this, made him want to do the very opposite; buoy her, lift her, be exactly the kind of anchor she didn’t even know she needed, just like his mama had taught him

“Hey,” he began, voice bright, effortless, like a song starting in the quietest corner of a room. “I’m not here to judge any of that. I’m here to… well, just help. Where I can. Maybe not with everything,” he admitted, shrugging with a little sheepish tilt of his shoulders, “But whatever I can do? You got it. Moral support, a steady hand, whatever you need.”

He took a careful step closer, letting the energy of his optimism fill the space between them without crowding it. “Need a boost for those log jumps?” he asked, a mischievous lilt in his voice, as if the thought itself were already half a game. “I can lift you, give you a little extra height. And, uh… I can catch you if you fall. Promise. No mortal peril on my watch.” The grin that followed was infectious, lighting up his features with that easy, unguarded sunshine that seemed to spread even into the shadows of their surroundings.

Colton’s eyes softened when he watched her laugh awkwardly, sip the water, and wiggle her brows at him as though daring him to notice. Oh, he noticed. He noticed everything. And his chest swelled in a quiet, happy way that made him feel like a puppy who had just been told it could finally fetch the stick it had been sitting and staring at for hours. His heart wanted to bounce, leap, and spin with the pure joy of being allowed to help her, even in such small ways, just as it would if this were Sloane, or the oddly handsome man that was now doing one armed pushups.

Blair groaned as she slowly turned her attention back to the log hurdles while screwing the cap back onto the bottle. She had done one… one fucking obstacle and it was the tires. She was over this shit and had barely started, although she had started. She had already run through this bullshit and barfed for her effort, but was forced to do it all again because it wasn’t embarrassing enough the first time. She blew a soft raspberry as she exhaled dramatically before handing him back his water for him to hold. "Might be easier if you just carried me." There was a second where she looked up into his eyes, half serious but ultimately letting out a defeated laugh, turning back toward the logs. "Kidding… partially."

She walked up the first hurdle and stepped over it. One foot, no problem. Same with the next. But then she stopped at the third one, lightly patting the wood with her hands as she tried to recall how she did it the first time. Was this where she fell? Who knows, probably. She fell a lot. Blair decided to tackle it a little differently considering she wasn’t in a rush. She turned her back to the log, bracing her hands against it on either side and jumped up like someone trying to sit on a kitchen counter. One by one she swung her legs over to the other side, then dropped back down to the ground. She stepped up to the next hurdle, resting her hands on her hips. "Maybe I should have done the leap frog thing," she commented more to herself than Colton. She had noticed other people doing it, but there was a part of her that didn’t know if she’d have any better luck jumping the gap than she did climbing each one individually. She could just see her missing the log or slipping and busting a lip… No thanks.

Colton snorted before he could stop himself, the sound warm and surprised, amusement tugging easy at his mouth as he took the bottle from her. The idea of just slinging her over his shoulder like a sack of grain was… well. He suspected that’d cause more problems than it solved. Still, he was glad when her laugh followed, when the seriousness cracked and the moment stayed light. He fell into step beside her as she headed for the log hurdles, eyes tracking the careful way she approached them—no rush, no bravado, just determination stitched together with improvisation.

He watched her clear the first two without trouble, then saw the pause at the third. The way she patted the wood, like it might answer her if she asked nicely. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t crowd, he just observed as she turned and mounted it backward, all stubborn practicality, swinging her legs over like she was conquering a kitchen counter instead of an obstacle. When she dropped down the other side, he felt a flicker of admiration bloom—quiet, sincere. There was grit there, even if she didn’t see it herself.

At the next hurdle, taller and more demanding, she stopped again, hands on her hips, weighing her options. Colton stepped up beside her then, close enough to be useful but not so close as to steal her space. He glanced at the log, then back at her, considering. The offer came easy, casual as a barn door left open on a warm day. “If you want,” he said lightly, nodding toward the beam, “I can give you a boost. Just—up an’ over. Ain’t no shame in borrowin’ a little lift.” There was no pressure in it, no expectation, just an open-handed kind of help, steady and patient, waiting for her answer.

Blair heard him approach before she saw him. She only looked up and over at Colton once he spoke, eyes squinting and a hand perched along her brow to try and defuse the bright sun that shined in the sky behind him. Her eyes bounced back and forth between him and the log a couple times as she tried to decide if she wanted to ask for help so soon. She did it once before on her own, by that logic she could do it again but there was also the temptation to let John Wayne make her life immensely easier. The purpose of this all was to grow and get stronger, so doing it herself was better for that. But she was also acutely aware that her role in life was to be a damsel and little more… And why the fuck did the Gods put these types of moral dilemmas on her shoulders? Did she look like a fucking warrior to them!?

While she said nothing, her internal tug-of-war was plain as day across her face. Her brows pulled together, deep wrinkles creased along her forehead, nose scrunched like she could smell her own B.O., jaw clenched, and lips pursed tightly. "I suppose the correct—" she made air quotes to emphasize her words, "—Answer would be to do it myself." Blair looked back up at Colton as if asking him to be her moral compass because she was never the best at making the right decision.

She shook her head, brushing it off before she put that burden on him along with needing his help. Blair turned around and braced her hands back on the log like she did with the last hurdle. She jumped higher, having to wiggle and squirm to get her butt up over the hump, but eventually managed, although she nearly slipped off. Not so bad. She swung her legs over to the other side and dropped back down. Now five feet… that log came up to her jaw, so naturally she just rested her chin on it with a defeated sigh. "Ok. Maybe like a tiny boost."

Colton stood a few paces back and let her have her moment with it. He could see the argument playing out on her face, pride squaring its shoulders against exhaustion, stubbornness tapping its foot while doubt whispered from somewhere low and tired. It reminded him of himself, of standing in muddy fields with a fence half-fallen and hands already shaking, telling himself he could muscle through one more post without asking Pa for help. Wanting to prove something, even when no one else was asking for proof.

He watched her clear the next beam on her own, awkward but determined, shoes scuffing, hands catching, breath breaking hard in her chest. Something warm stirred behind his ribs at the sight of it, not pity, not even concern, but a quiet respect. She wasn’t graceful about it. She wasn’t trying to be. She was just trying. When she finally admitted, softly, like it cost her something, that she might need a small boost for the last one, Colton’s answer was already in the curve of his mouth. He smiled, easy and unshowy, like the sun slipping out from behind a cloud.

He stepped forward and lowered himself without ceremony, one knee sinking into the churned dirt, broad hands coming together to form a steady cradle. “Ain’t nothing wrong with that,” he said gently, looking up at her from where he knelt, voice warm with that familiar country cadence. “River told us we’re allowed to help each other. Long as you’re still tryin’, that’s what counts.”

His palms were rough, scarred faintly from years of work and heat and iron, but he held them steady, solid as fence posts driven deep into good earth. “No shame in takin’ a hand when one’s offered,” he added, softer now. “World’s heavy enough as it is.” And he waited there, patient and sure, lifting her for a boost when she stepped into his palm, not to take the victory of completing the obstacle from her, but to make sure she reached it.

Blair watched him lower himself to his knee without hesitation. There was a reverence in it that simple gesture that caught her offguard. Sure, Cotlon said he’d help her but he could have done that a million ways. There was just something about a man willing to humble himself before a woman that could make anyone’s heart flutter, or at least hers anyway. She looked down at him, meeting his gaze, all charm and warmth without a single untoward thought behind those eyes. A lesser woman would blush. Blair felt it tingling beneath the surface of her cheeks but hidden beneath the soft tan of her olive skin. No, that delicate part of her had been lost for years, replaced with something more brazen and unapologetic.

"You look good on your knees." The words just sort of… slipped out... kind of. Two days ago she would have owned those words with pride, but now it was another time her thoughts escaped without a filter. Blair never realized how bad it was until she was actively trying not to do it. Her filter must have died with her delicacy. Now her cheeks reddened, just a hint, but her smile didn’t falter, only shifted. "Old habits," she muttered under her breath with a soft laugh and shake of her head. It seemed turning a new leaf was going to be considerably more difficult than she originally thought. It was the effort that mattered… Right?

Colton didn’t have a ready-made response for that one. Her words hit him sideways, soft as a feather and twice as dangerous. His brain stalled. His mouth opened. Nothing useful came out. Color rushed up his neck like a sunrise he hadn’t asked for, ears burning bright red as he sputtered something that might have been a syllable once upon a time.

“I—uh—”

That was as far as he got before she muttered about old habits, and the tension snapped like a twine string pulled too tight. A surprised laugh burst out of him, half-choked, half helpless, the sound warm and unguarded as he ducked his head. “Well… reckon we all got those,” he managed, still pink to the tips of his ears.

A smirk, unbidden and guilty curled at the corners of her mouth as she noticed the vibrant flush, red like fresh strawberries that clung to his pale, sunkissed skin. "Sorry," Blair muttered quietly. She meant it, to some extent, but there was a certain level of great satisfaction at being able to make a man blush and fluster so easily. Usually men met her tenfold, laying on their own unabashed charm. It was rare that she could catch someone offguard… She kind of liked it… But she was trying to be good. Good. Yeah… She definitely wasn’t doing a very good job. Focus.

Blair turned to face him, slowly raising her right foot and resting it gently into his waiting palms. Then she paused. His words about the heaviness of the world circled in her head until her thoughts came out, unfiltered and untethered before she could catch them. "Well… Just be sure not to try and shoulder everyone else’s problems along with your own." Her words weren’t flirty or laced with innuendos, just gentle wisdom offered freely from a friend, a gift she rarely bestowed… or maybe people liked to conveniently forget she was a slut and smart. "There are too many people who’ll take advantage of kindness. Especially when it’s wrapped in a sexy cowboy package." She placed one hand on his shoulder—muscular, sturdy, broad—jesus christ, get a grip. Her other hand braced against the log and then she leaned forward. She shifted all of her weight into his hands and pushed off.

Her weight shifted into his palms, real and trusting, and instinct took over where fluster failed him. He braced, muscles locking steady as fence posts sunk deep into good earth, lifting her smoothly, carefully, like this was exactly what he’d been built for. When she spoke again, quiet, sincere, offering that gentle warning wrapped in warmth, he looked up at her with something softer in his eyes, something thoughtful.

When she made it onto the log, he straightened and tipped his head back just enough to meet her gaze. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, voice all sunlight and southern sincerity. “I’ll be sure to be careful ’bout that.”

Then, for her benefit alone, he lifted two fingers to the air and tipped an imaginary cowboy hat, solemn as a knight swearing an oath and just foolish enough to make it charming. He circled the obstacle quickly, shoes crunching in the sand, and came up on the other side with his hand raised, ready in case she needed it—steady, patient, offering help without taking the moment from her.

Blair’s hands steadied herself against the splintering log and the tensing muscles of his shoulders. As he lifted her, she turned and pushed herself backwards until she sat on the hurdle like she had with the two before. She shifted, preparing to swing her leg to the other side when his voice caught her attention, drawing her gaze down to where he stood before her. Luckily he was the one talking which kept her from making another untoward comment. But there he went again with that damn ma’am that did weird things to her that she couldn’t quite put a finger on. Then… just before she turned away, he dipped his head like he was tipping an intangible cowboy hat.

She snorted… like actually snorted, loud, involuntary and completely unattractive. The abrupt sound grew into a soft laugh, unguarded and genuine in a way that almost felt freeing after her terrible morning. And, if only for a moment, it made her forget about the grueling course behind her. There was even a faint warmth that bloomed along her cheeks, but it was obviously from the height, or the physical exertion, or maybe she stopped breathing for a second because of the snort. Tons of viable reasons rather than the obvious.

She shook her head and threw her legs to the other side of the log, only to be met by his frustratingly handsome face and a hand held out in offering. Blair’s gaze shifted back and forth between his calloused palm and warm eyes a handful of times before she finally conceded, and placed her hand in his. She slipped off the top of the hurdle, landing with a soft thud that stirred the sand into a small cloud of dust around their feet. She looked up at him with a knowing smirk as she slowly pulled her fingers free from his grasp. "Flirt," she accused him quietly, with a gentle poke to the chest before turning and making her way to the next obstacle.

Blair approached the low crawl with a sigh while she tucked loose hairs behind her ears that already fell from her messy ponytail into her face. Her hands brushed along her thighs before she lowered herself to her knees in the dirt. There were already grains of sand and grit that lingered beneath her clothes and in all of her crevices from the last time. She didn’t really want to add to it, but didn’t really have a choice. She slowly lowered herself onto her stomach then started crawling, weak arms more guiding her course while her feet kicked and pushed off the earth. It was not graceful by any means, but she moved, one foot at a time.

Colton blinked at the word like it had been lightly tossed and somehow landed square between his ribs. Flirt? He stood there a second too long, hand still half-raised in the shape she’d left it, ears warming again as he replayed the last few moments in his head like a crooked fence he couldn’t quite tell was leaning. He hadn’t meant to be. He was just… being himself. Saying ma’am. Smiling. Joking. Helping her down. That was normal. That was polite. That was—

Had he been flirting?

His mouth opened, then closed again, a soft huff of a laugh escaping as he shook his head at his own thoughts. Lord help him, if that counted as flirting, he was in deeper trouble than he realized.

But Blair was already moving on, lowering herself into the dirt with a resigned sort of bravery, hair slipping loose, shoulders set stubbornly as she began the crawl. The sight tugged his attention away from his confusion, grounding him again. She wasn’t fast. She wasn’t graceful. But she was trying, inch by inch, grit clinging to her, breath working hard in her chest. Something quiet and steady settled in him at the sight. He didn’t follow her down into the sand, he figured she wouldn’t begrudge him that, so he took the longer route around the obstacle. He rolled the water bottle between his palms, watching her progress through the ropes and dirt, waiting near the next area. When she finally neared the end of the crawl, he stepped into view again, offering the bottle out in both hands like it was something fragile.

“Hey, good job.” he said gently, voice low and easy. “Before you tackle the next one… could you take another sip?” He tipped the bottle slightly toward her, earnest as sunrise. “Just a small one. Don’t gotta chug it.” A soft smile curved his mouth, dimples faint but present. “You’re probably already half way to dehydrated, sips will help.”

Blair dragged herself out on the other side with a final huff and push of her feet in the sand. She took a second to catch to draw in a breath or two before forcing herself to her feet with a quiet grunt, followed by quiet pants that heaved in her chest. Her gaze found the persistent cowboy waiting patiently like a frustratingly hot sentinel, like his only purpose at that moment was cheering her on and making sure she drank water. While her smile returned, a little tired but still genuine, she couldn’t ignore the weight that had started tugging at her chest.

She honestly had no clue why he was doing this. Ok, so he was kind and doing kind things, that much she could puzzle out. And sure, she might have finished last, but no one expected an athlete or warrior from her. But there were other demigods who were more deserving, more capable. Yet there he was. For someone who was usually so collected and confident—the training, the barfing, and the way his eyes followed without judgement—It all made her feel exposed and vulnerable, and not in the good way.

Her hands absently brushed the sand and dirt from her stomach while her eyes bounced from his persistent smile down to the bottle and back up. Blair had tried to find one of her sassy quips, but came up short. Perhaps it was just the exhaustion catching up to her. That’s what she told herself at least, as she slowly reached out and took the bottle. While she was used to being a handful, a burden had a new weight to it… heavy like lead in her bones. She appreciated his help, especially when Colton didn’t owe her anything. Hell, he didn’t even know her. But she also resented her uselessness, a byproduct of camp no doubt, because she never cared about shit like that before… right?

Her face scrunched slightly betraying the spiral of emotions that churned out of sight. Blair shook her head like she could push away the thoughts, opened the bottle, and took a drink. Then another. Then another. It was more than a sip, but she didn’t chug it. Not really. While she was thirsty, it was more to wash away her thoughts and ground her more than anything… and because he asked in that unrelenting, charming way he just… existed. She handed back the bottle with a weak smile, then made her way to the next obstacle with a resolute sigh.

The rope climb. The god damn mother fucking rope climb.

Blair wasn’t even able to make it up the damn thing the first time. How was a second attempt going to be any better? She stood before the traitorous rope, watching it sway slightly in front of her with her hands on her hips. "Fuck me," she grumbled, kicking the knot at the bottom lazily, like maybe threatening the obstacle would… beat it into submission or something. "I was able to hold on for maybe two seconds… there’s no way." Her words were loud enough for Colton to hear, but were more spoken to the aether rather than him specifically.

Colton’s whole face lit up the moment she took the bottle. It was immediate and unguarded, like someone had struck a match behind his eyes, relief and quiet pride blooming there all at once. His smile spread wide, dimples cutting deep, shoulders loosening as if a knot he hadn’t realized he was holding finally gave way. By the time she handed the bottle back, his grin had softened into something warm and steady, the kind that stayed.

He followed after her without crowding, shoes crunching softly in the sand, listening to the rasp of her breathing, the grit under her hands, the stubborn resolve in the way she carried herself forward even when everything in her posture said I’m tired. It was admirable, she could have done push ups like the other girls he’d spotted, but instead she put her all into running the course a second time. Maybe that was part of the reason why he’d stayed to help. When she stopped at the rope, he did too, tilting his head back to look up at the swaying line of it, the knots disappearing into height and shadow.

Then he looked back at her. She stood there squared off with it, hands on her hips, muttering curses like the rope might take offense and apologize. Something tender stirred behind his ribs at the sight, not pity, not frustration. Just the simple, stubborn courage of someone who kept showing up to the fight even when they were already bruised. He shifted his weight, thinking. He didn’t have a perfect answer. Didn’t have a magic trick to turn rope into stairs. But he had himself, his strength.

“Well,” he said gently, stepping closer, voice low and warm with that familiar country cadence, “We can start small.” He glanced up at the rope again, then back to her, offering a soft, hopeful smile. “I can give you a boost. Get you steady on the first knot.” One shoulder lifted in a mild shrug. “An’ if you slip… I got you. Promise.”

There was no bravado in it. Just certainty. “Long as you try, I don’t reckon River’s gonna begrudge you a thing.” His eyes stayed kind, unwavering. “Everyone’s gotta start somewhere. This can just be yours.” And he held his hands out again, rough, steady, open, offering her not the top of the rope, not the finish line, not a miracle…just a place to begin.

Blair laughed, resigned in her failure before she ever even considered attempting it. She looked up at Colton as he stepped closer, drawing in a sharp breath because of his… Well, everything. It really should be illegal to be that attractive and nice. Like truly unfair, especially when she’s trying to be good. She pulled her eyes from him, regretfully, and focused on the knotted braid of rope before her. "You make it sound so easy," she grumbled as she forced herself to reach out and take it in her hands. Step one, done. That was good enough right?

She drew in another sharp breath and looked back over at him, finding him ready and waiting with that damn smile. Fuck me. Blair studied him for a second: blond hair, white teeth, earnest smile, and muscles for days… And he was just standing there, like there was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be, wanting to help… her. No strings attached, just fingers laced together to give her a boost. He made it really fucking hard for her to puss out and say fuck it. Like really hard. Especially when he got excited like a puppy over her sipping fucking water. Fuck me, she cursed herself again and smacked her forehead against the rope.

"Alright. Fine… fine," she conceded because she’d be damned if she was the reason he lost the light that seemed to radiate from him. Blair raised her foot and placed it in his waiting palms like she had before and pushed off. He lifted her high, higher than she felt comfortable going. She did her best to wrap her legs around the rope and get a strong hold. And she was fine… until she lost his support. She dangled there for a second, trying to figure out what the hell to do next. Her grip was already waning, so before she looked like a complete failure, she released one hand and reached up and then—

She was falling.

All she heard was the quiet squeak that escaped her lips as she sucked in a sharp breath. Her hands frantically gripped at the rope like somehow she could make her muscles cooperate and support her weight, but all it did was make her hands burn and her palms raw. All she could do was shut her eyes tight and brace for the pain of her body colliding with the unforgiving earth.

Colton’s smile came easy when she finally relented, crooked and bright and a little proud in that quiet way, like he’d just been trusted with something fragile and precious and didn’t intend to drop it. He didn’t miss the way she muttered to herself, or the way her shoulders drew in tight, like she was bracing for impact long before anything went wrong. He tilted his head, watching her with open curiosity, fond and gentle and maybe a little confused.

She looked exhausted. Not just tired in the muscles, though that too, but bone-deep, the kind of worn thin that came from pushing yourself past sensible limits. He figured it was the workout. Or the puking earlier. Or both. Probably both. Poor thing. Grounding himself, setting his stance like he’d done a thousand times before with heavier burdens and higher stakes. His palms were warm and steady, careful with her in a way that came instinctively, like she was something that might bruise if handled wrong. He boosted her high, high enough that her fingers could find the rope properly, high enough that she had a real chance, but not so high that he thought it might steal the breath from her lungs or turn fear sharp in her eyes. He could have gone higher. Easily. But he didn’t.

And then he stepped back. Respectful. Intentional. Eyes politely fixed somewhere around her shoulder blades and the line of the rope above her head, like gravity itself had personally instructed him where not to look.

For a second, she just… hung there.

Dangling. Suspended between earth and resolve. His eyebrows furrowed.

He watched her grip tighten, knuckles paling, arms trembling like young branches in the wind. She looked stunned by her own bravery, like she couldn’t quite believe she’d actually done the thing she’d been so ready to fail at. Then she let go with one hand. Colton’s heart gave a small, startled lurch. Her form was, well… abysmal.

All her weight shifted onto one arm, shoulder dipping, body twisting in a way that made his own muscles tense in reflexive sympathy. He had the distant, absurd thought that maybe she’d skipped gym class. Or slept through it. Or set the building on fire and never been allowed back in.

She slipped. The world narrowed. He didn’t think. His body moved before his mind could catch up, shoes digging into sand, arms shooting forward, breath locking hard in his chest.

She fell.

And he caught her. It was nothing. Not really.

Not compared to hauling four warped beams out of the back of his truck, splinters biting into his palms while sweat soaked his collar. Not compared to the unbearable, sacred weight of his younger brothers in his arms, smoke in his lungs, the house still screaming behind him in flame and ruin.

Blair was light.

She came down onto him like something out of a dream, all soft impact and startled warmth, hair and limbs and heartbeat crashing gently into his chest. His arms wrapped around her without hesitation, locking her in place as his feet skidded back half a step. They wobbled, but they stayed standing. For a breathless second, the world didn’t exist at all, only the sound of blood in his ears, the sudden burn in his arms, the fragile reality of her weight anchored safely against him.

Then he laughed, not loud, not teasing, just a soft, shaky sound pulled loose by relief. His forehead dipped forward a fraction, breath still uneven, smile slow and real as sunrise. “Well,” he said gently, voice still catching on the edges of adrenaline, “I did tell you I’d catch you.” His grin lingered, warm and earnest and a little dazzled, like he was just as surprised as anyone else that they hadn’t both just eaten dirt for lunch.

Blair had accepted her fate… the bruises, the pain, the embarrassment… all of it. But her body didn’t slam into the hard earth. It landed in Colton’s arms like she was a sack of grain tossed to him that he handled a bit clumsily, like he was caught off guard and had to focus on keeping them both from tipping over. Instinctually, she curled into him, hiding her face against his chest like she was only seconds away from falling the final couple feet. It wasn’t until the world stopped moving and she felt his laughter rumble from behind his ribs and reverberate through his arms that she took a breath and opened her eyes.

… He caught her.

He caught her... like it was nothing, like she wasn’t a stranger or a burden, but a choice to protect. Then there were all of his muscles enveloping her and that damn smile. It really was like some romance novel idealized version of a man stepped out of a book and was like ‘Hey Blair, want some help?’ Like that was a totally normal thing. It wasn’t. She knew that. Men weren’t charming and handsome and selfless like that… Especially not around her. It all made her very confused and the more it happened, the more it stirred something in her chest that she was equally confused about.

She took a second to catch her breath and attempted to calm her heart that hammered against her ribs. Blair couldn’t bring herself to look up at him, like that grin and face were going to confuse her further. But her smile betrayed her, anxious and uneasy, but pulled to life from his easy laugh that vibrated against her shoulder that was still pressed to his chest. This was a problem. He was a problem… She was in trouble.

"I’ll have to learn to stop doubting you." Blair let her hand rest against his chest, just for a second, just long enough to give it a gentle pat of reassurance and silent guidance for him to set her down. Because if she didn’t get out of his arms sooner rather than later, then she’d be in a world of entirely different problems. Course first, flirting with a hot cowboy later—or never, because she was being good. She nodded her head resolutely, more to herself than anything, as she tried to force herself to focus and turn toward the next obstacle.

She approached the net bridge, but rather than delay—or huff and puff and whine, or whatever else she wanted to do—Blair reached out and gripped the ropes at either side. She inhaled sharply as the coarse fibers dug into her raw palms. Carefully, she lifted her right foot and braced it against the net, letting her arch rest over a cross section. Then she paused, glancing back over her shoulder toward Colton, who lingered behind her like a sexy sentinel. "Thank you… for catching me." The words came out quiet but no less sincere. He deserved gratitude like a million times over for lasting that long without giving up or thinking she was a lost cause… Because she was.

Blair continued forward before she could think better of it. One step and then another, with her gaze intently locked on her feet, making certain she was sure footed before continuing further. It was slow, like her low crawl, but she made it across one foot at a time. A small glimmer of pride shined through her exhausted smile when she reached the platform. One obstacle that wasn’t a disaster. That had to be an accomplishment… until she saw the rope swing before her, and her smile faded as quickly as it had grown. "Not another rope..." She sounded dejected, almost like she was on the cusp of heart break, not about to face down another feat of upper body strength she didn’t possess.

Colton stood there a second longer than he meant to, arms still curved in the memory of her weight, her breath, the way she’d folded into him like the world had finally decided to be gentle for half a heartbeat. He hadn’t expected her surprise to cut the way it did. Had no one ever caught her before?

The thought landed heavy and unwelcome in his chest. Not in anger, never that, but in something quieter and sadder. Like realizing a fence had been broken for a long time and nobody had bothered to mend it. Folks deserved to be caught when they fell. It seemed plain as daylight to him. The idea that it might not be plain to her left his brows drawn together as he watched her walk away, head tipped slightly, confusion knitting softly across his face.
When she looked back and thanked him, though, that expression loosened. His smile returned like sunrise. Not flashy. Not practiced. Just warm and real, eyes bright in a way that made the whole arena feel a little less harsh.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, mostly to himself.

He followed at a distance as she crossed the net bridge, heart climbing into his throat every time her foot slipped a fraction or the ropes swayed too sharply. He noticed the way her jaw tightened, the way one hand flinched when the fibers bit too deep. And then he saw it clearly, the red skin, raw and angry across her palm when she lifted it, wincing.

Colton slowed. He pressed his lips together, thinking. Then, after a moment of silence, of him following her across—
rrrip.

The sound was sharp in the warm air, sudden as a snapped twig. Blair would see him standing there with two clean strips torn from the hem of his white shirt, fabric curled slightly at the edges where it had been pulled apart by sheer strength. The shirt now ended just high enough to show the faint lines of muscle beneath his ribs, the beginning etch of his abdomen, but if he noticed, he didn’t show it. His attention was already on her.

Blair turned around at the sound, like there was a magnet somewhere beneath his exposed muscles that drew her attention first. Sun tanned, rigidly contoured, with the starting hint of that telltale V just above his waist band. She swallowed and had to drag her attention away, to the course, to the purple of her clothes that stood out bright against the dull sepias of the arena, to the realization of why she saw his abs in the first place. Her face contorted, forehead creasing and nose scrunching as she looked between his navel, the torn edge of his now very 80’s styled crop top, and the white fabric he ripped in two.

"No. Colton, wait—" She actually called him by his name, like the severity of what he was doing hit too fast for her to respond with quips or teasing nicknames. She tried to stop him, but it was already far too late. The damage was done before she even turned around and now there was nothing to do but accept the help, because otherwise he ruined his shirt for nothing… Well, not nothing. It was a fantastic view that she was struggling to not look at, but that wasn’t the point.

He stepped closer without hurry, gentle as ever, and reached for her hand. “Here,” he said quietly. He turned her palm up with care, like it was something breakable, and wrapped the fabric around it in slow, practiced motions. Once. Twice. Then he did the same with the other hand, fingers warm, steady, tying the ends in soft knots that wouldn’t bite into her skin.

He nodded to himself when he was done, satisfied in the simple, practical way of a man fixing a problem the only way he knew how. Then he looked back up at her. A small smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Reckon the rope might be a little kinder to you now,” he said, voice easy, hopeful. He glanced toward the swing, then back to her. “If you want, I can go first. Be waitin’ on the other side.”

Blair didn’t fight or pull away when he took her hand. She just watched silently, keeping her gaze intently focused on the way his hands, warm and calloused, worked the torn fabric around her palms like she was made of glass. His kindness was alarming, not in a loud or startling way, but soft and quiet, creeping on her when she least expected like it was the most natural thing in the world for him… And the most unnatural thing for her. It threw off her normal confident demeanor and left her on uneasy footing, not entirely sure how to react, with a rising flush she could feel burning in her chest.

When he finished, she heard the words, they might have even registered for a second before being swiftly replaced with her own aching thought. "You’re single?" It came out more like an accusation than a question, slipping free without a filter or thought. To be fair, Colton didn’t tell her one way or the other, but there were tells that led Blair to believe he was, the primary being a man this chivalrous and charming would not waste this energy on a woman that wasn’t his if he was already taken. But still, the bluntness of her words actually startled herself for once.

"I don’t mean it like that," she quickly corrected. "Or maybe I do?" Blair’s head cocked to the side, studying his face as she humored the fantasy for about two seconds—tall, strong arms, a killer smile… all for her?—Damn it, Blair. Stop. She shook her head trying to fight off the thoughts and images. Jesus christ, was she always this horny?

"I just mean…" she started a second time, slower, intentionally choosing her words one at a time as she looked at the railing… So she could focus. "You are way too nice and far too attractive to be single. It doesn’t make sense." Blair rested her hands on her hips like she was giving him a stern talking to. Like, how dare he be single? That’s a crime. Against the rules. Straight to jail. "Make it make sense," she added with a chuckle, finally looking up into his eyes with a smile of pure disbelief painted across her face.

Colton stilled at her question, fingers pausing where they’d just finished smoothing the last edge of torn fabric against her palm. For half a heartbeat, he looked like a boy caught in the act of stealing cookies from a jar, wide-eyed, startled, utterly unprepared for the direction her words had taken. Then a laugh slipped out of him, soft and crooked and a little breathless, like it had startled him too.

He glanced away, toward the water beneath the rope swing. It lay perfectly still, dark and glassy, not a single ripple disturbing its surface. Quiet in a way that felt deliberate. Honest. Like the world was holding its breath with him.

His shoulders rose and fell once.

“To be honest…” he murmured. The words came slowly after that, careful and unpolished, like stones set one by one across a river. “I only just really started to… live, I guess. Or try to.”

He rubbed a thumb along the side of his hand, eyes still fixed on the water as if it were easier to speak to something that didn’t look back at him. “For a long time, most of my life, really, I was…scared. Of a lot of things. Scared to get close to people. Scared to want things. Scared to build something I might lose.”

A breath. Quiet. Measured. “And then…”

He faltered there, just slightly, the word catching like a thread snagging on rough wood. His jaw tightened. He shook his head once, a small motion, like he could physically dislodge the memory if he tried hard enough.

“I lost my brothers,” he said softly. “House fire.”

The words were simple. Too simple for what they carried. Too simple for the weight of what had really happened, how he had failed to save them in time. If he had been better, if he had been faster, then maybe…

He swallowed, eyes shining faintly in the reflected light off the water. “After that, I don’t know… something shifted. I think I realized there was too much worth living for to spend the rest of my life hidin’ from it.”

Finally, he looked back at her. The smile he gave Blair was gentle and a little helpless, worn thin around the edges by honesty, but real all the same. “So no, I never really dated anyone,” he admitted with a small shrug. “It just… never bothered me much. Guess I was busy surviving.”

His shoulders lifted again, lighter this time. “Now I’m trying this whole ‘live life to the fullest’ thing. Kinda feels like learning how to walk in a new body.” There was no bitterness in him. No resentment. Only quiet wonder, and the fragile hope of someone who had finally decided to stay in the world instead of watching it from a distance.

Blair didn’t interrupt or fill the silence that stretched between his thoughts. She just listened patiently for every word while holding his gaze even when he could not meet her own. Each confession weighed a little heavier, stripping away her flirtatious confidence for something softer and more grounded that lived behind her bravado that she brandished as both a window and a shield. Her smile that finally blossomed wasn’t charming or suggestive, just warm with sympathy and understanding.

"Well… Now I feel like an ass," she confessed with a weak, deprecating laugh. Her fingers idly toyed with a loose thread dangling from the makeshift bandages wrapped around her palms. Her lips pursed, lost deep in thought as she took the time to form her words rather than letting herself stumble through something more… fragile.

"I’m sure you’re tired of empty sympathies from people who can’t relate to what you’re going through. But—" Blair’s head tilted to the side slightly while she shrugged her shoulders. "—I do have a brother. And I know he’d want me to have a full life… I’m sure yours would too."

She looked up at him with a smile that was a little more tentative while also trying to find levity in their conversation. The last thing Blair wanted was to make the cute cowboy sad. "You picked an interesting time to start living. Camp might break your spirit… Unless you’re looking to collect scars and trauma." Her gaze scanned the arena as she drew in a heavy breath. "But I’m jaded." She threw up her hands and shrugged before lightly slapping her palms against her thighs. "Since coming here I’ve nearly died, got an ugly ass scar, and started realizing my self worth… It’s really inconvenient." The tailend of her words got a more playful lilt, finding comfort and ease in directing her sarcasm at herself.

Blair stepped up to the edge of the platform, looking down at the dark water that waited below more like an empty abyss rather than a cool promise of safety. She rested her hands on the ends of the railings on either side of her, lightly tapping her thumbs against the wood. "There’s nothing wrong with it, by the way," she continued with a little more apprehension, like she knew her words might feel far less convincing coming from someone like her. "Your… inexperience I mean," she clarified. "I know that’s kind of cheap coming from the slut, but... It’s true."

"Just, you know… Look out for yourself," Blair continued, taking the small moment of vulnerability to maybe instill some wisdom she learned the hard way. "You’re like… so sweet that I can feel myself getting cavities being around you," she laughed softly and rolled her eyes at her own dumb joke. "Don’t let someone take advantage of that. I’d hate for your first experiences to be ruined by assholes."

She was about to move past the conversation and focus on the obstacle that kept staring at her, but one thought continued to nag at the back of her mind. Blair sighed. "I’m also sorry for the uh…" Her brows furrowed as she tried to find the right word. "flirting. I didn’t realize… I will endeavor to be on my best behavior here on out." She crossed her heart, even if the thought of not commenting on how hot he was felt like a sin. He wanted a friend and friends didn’t bombard each other with compliments and whatever else… Or so she thought anyway.

With that, Blair slapped her hands against the railing, then lowered herself down so that she sat on the edge of the platform rather than taking the rope. "I know I’m going to fall. So rather than embarrass myself further or ruin your handiwork, I’m just gonna take one for the team." Before she could delay any further, she pushed off the ledge and dropped the handful of feet down into the water with a splash.

Collab pt. 2/3

^{interactions ....|.... none ............... mentions ....|.... sloane ............... collabs ....|.... @Sleepy Tani}

Camp Athens - Closed

^{#bd1664 ....|..... outfit .....|..... #b45f06 ....|..... arena > mason's cabin}

Mason returned to Andy’s side still breathing heavier than normal after his run, much to his disgust. River may have sapped the water from him, but Mason still felt the sweat and lifted his shirt to dab at his face. "I don’t know how you do that," he confessed to Andy. He didn’t need his time to know his girl flew through the course opposed to him.

Andy lightly bounced her crossed leg, still reclined with her elbows resting on the bench behind her. "Years of practice," she mused with a small, guilty smile. Life as a military brat sucked a majority of the time and she definitely didn’t miss it, but the one positive that came from it was it made camp and training significantly easier. She didn’t enjoy it like Trinity, but she understood its importance. "Do we need to start running drills?" she teased and bumped the toe of her shoe against his leg.

Mason smirked, mind immediately thrown to a particular set of drills he could do with Andy. "I’ll do anything you want," he said, voice dripping with suggestion over submission.

A small, mischievous smile grew warm and unbidden at his comment, along with the hidden meaning that lingered beneath it, tantalizing and teasing in its implication. "If I knew all I had to do was sleep with you to get you to be so… accommodating, I would have done it a long time ago." She held his gaze as a quiet, playful laugh filled the space between them.

Shifting their conversation into… safer territories so his thoughts didn't run away with him, he started thinking about his genuine performance on the course. His fairly lousy performance. "I wanted to push Nelly so bad," was the next confession to leave his lips, laughing once. "Constant…" He couldn’t even pin what her outfit was. Neon? Disco themed? "That in your vision is distracting." Mason’s eyes found the daughter of Hermes in the stands with ease as if emphasizing his point.

He rubbed his hand along Andy’s leg without pressure, without thought, like it was the most natural thing in the world. But the moment he actually laid eyes on her legs, he drifted his hand slower, relishing in the touch. Mason looked up at Andy with a smirk. "Though, you’d be far more distracting." He inched his hand higher up her thigh over her shorts, curving his fingers towards her inner thigh and rested there. She didn’t have to worry. He could behave himself… for now.

A small snort of a laugh slipped out as her gaze followed his toward the bright colored beacon. "Still better than her rambling," she commented quietly so no one other than him heard. The girl was harmless, but a gossip. After catching the daughter of Hermes whispering about her personal life, Andy has given her a bit of a cold shoulder. While a lot of what she went through was common knowledge, a person who gossips about her behind her back was not the type of person Andy wanted to befriend.

Her attention fell to Mason’s hand as he gently, openly stroked her leg. Her head tilted to the side slightly while her gaze trailed up his muscular arm, across his broad shoulders, along the side of his neck, up to his strong jaw and breathtaking eyes. He had always been handsome, but there was something about the tenderness he reserved for only her and how unapologetically he desired her that heightened it. His touch was gentle and innocent enough, but still sent a shiver down Andy’s back. As his fingers curved tauntingly closer her breath hitched as a wave of warmth ran down her body. She held his gaze, raising a brow temptingly. "You have no idea how distracting I can be," she teased quietly while brushing the tip of her finger along the back of his arm.

"Somehow, I don’t think that’ll take much convincing," he replied, looking her over fondly. "But you can always show me," he challenged, an easy smirk gracing his usual brooding features. He knew there would be plenty of time for that because Andy was his now. The bad ass, annoyingly persistent, minotaur riding girl that he yearned for before he even acknowledged it was his. And he wouldn’t let her forget it.

Her head lulled slightly to the side as her smirk grew. "Patience," she mused softly, letting his mind do with that as he’d like.

A nagging thought entered his mind while watching different groups run like a live sporting event he didn’t want to attend. Particularly when the children of Aphrodite took the field. There was one girl in a right suit that he literally turned away from, looking around the stands, and hiding his face in the side of Andy’s cheek and neck. But he found the motivation to look back by watching Wes struggle. He bumped Andy lightly. "Anyone I should watch out for?" He teased, though his hand squeezed her thigh possessively.

Andy leaned in closer to him, the side of her body pressed against his as she rested her chin on his shoulder. "Oh, I don’t know… Have any new brothers?" she whispered with a mischievous grin.

Mason experienced a cocktail of emotions in her response. The first being disbelief before realizing she was teasing back. He pressed his tongue to his cheek through a smile and nodded. "Ok. Alright. So that’s how it’s gonna be?"

Andy snorted before a laugh, light and unguarded, fluttered to life. She sat up slowly, resting her chin on his shoulder with a guilty, but amused smile. "You are far too serious." She giggled, shaking her head in playful disbelief.

All he could do was shake his head too, embarrassed to be outed for being so serious. He wasn’t keeping track of groups or time, looking on with an absent mind and disinterest. The only saving grace was Andy. But he tuned into the course when the daughter of Ares and Daniel hit the field. Trinity didn’t breeze through all obstacles exactly, but she plowed through willing all the obstacles to get out of the way. Mason cocked his head slightly and smiled. An unyielding fire resided in her still, despite the son of Aphrodite.

Mason glanced at Andy first with a knowing smile that their mutual friend would kick the course’s ass, then let his gaze drift to Wes, smug expression clear: ‘You’re never going to keep up with that. You’re letting her down.’ Sure enough, she crossed first, others finishing up behind her. Daniel didn’t look like he was lagging in real time but there was a gap. And a nasty little crash at the end. He risked a glance for Andy’s expression.

She had been watching the last group run with more interest considering it included her best friend and brother. To absolutely no surprise Trinity barrelled through the course making it her bitch, while making everyone else look like amateurs. Daniel was struggling to keep up but he wasn’t doing bad. But then he slipped… Andy gasped, sitting bolt upright, watching as he fell in slow motion. She winced when he hit the ground and held her breath waiting for him to get up, move, something.

Daniel got up eventually and crossed the line which Mason took some assurance in and he hoped Andy did too.

Now that surely had to be everyone…?

"Little shit stresses me out." Andy exhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers as she watched Daniel walk to the stands nursing his back. She contemplated checking on him, but when she noticed him seeking comfort from Evelyn—a development she didn’t really know about—she figured she could fuss over him later and maybe force him to visit the girl that was running around healing people.

With no more groups left, River took some time to write or take notes or do whatever gym teacher type of shit he was doing on his clipboard, before stepping forward to address them all once again. Andy was a little surprised to hear her name called in what would have been fourth place. It wasn’t a competition and she didn’t approach it like it was, but she couldn’t fight the small swell of pride that blossomed inside her. Being able to keep up with Ares' kids and River gave her a boost in confidence knowing that maybe she could have passed as the leader if Poseidon wasn’t forcing his way in.

Once dismissed and their names weren’t called to stay back, Mason rose to his feet instantly, taking Andy with him. He put a hand on the small of her back pressing lightly for her to lead the way out of the arena briskly. He ushered her towards other goals. Like reaching the privacy of his own cabin.

A startled, but playful gasp slipped out as Andy was pulled to her feet. Mason didn’t wait a second to start herding her out of the arena, which was definitely hot and made a tickle of anticipation twist inside her, but—"Our jackets," she laughed, pointing behind him toward the bench. She slipped around him, letting her hand brush along his abdomen near the waistband of his pants in a soft, tempting touch as she passed. It only took a second before she returned to him, pressing his coat to his chest. "I can’t have you dying of hypothermia on the way…"

A low grumble emerged from his throat, even when Andy was being completely practical, waiting for her to get her cute ass in front of him again. "No, I suppose we wouldn’t want that." He closed his hand around the coat and waved her onward for the second attempt at leaving.

Mason walked close enough behind her that his chest was inches from her back, hoping his weight and needing presence urged her forward. "Don’t make eye contact with anyone," he said lowly to her. He was fully willing to crash into her if she stopped for anything and drag her there himself.

Andy had pulled on her jacket and started leading them toward the exit, as he wanted, when she heard his voice, deep and commanding from behind her. A handful of words and his husky tone was enough to ignite her desires and tempt her into frustrating him further. She spun around to face him, walking backwards beneath the arena’s archway as she held Mason’s gaze. A playful glint sparkled in her eyes as she let the space between them shrink until her chest brushed his, but never sacrificed pace. "Or what?" she taunted him before seizing her bottom lip between her teeth.

As they approached the threshold of white winter cold, Mason slid on his coat, settling into the fabric when Andy decided to give him some serious sass. Mason stilled. If she was testing his limits already and thought she’d get mercy because they had ran a shitty course… He straightened out her winter layers tenderly making sure her jacket was secure, then in a swift motion dipped down and threw her over his right shoulder, securing her legs with one arm locked around them.

Andy let out a startled gasp as she was swept off her feet. Her airy laugh echoed throughout the narrow arched hallway that passed beneath the stands, leading back out toward the rest of camp. While she could have fought him, if she wanted, there was something incredibly… hot about all of it. So far be it for her to stop him. Instead she lazily, and happily, bobbed with every step he took, at one point even giving into her impulses and gave his bottom a little smack. It was right there after all.

Happily, he carried Andy to his cabin, turning his occupied shoulder away so his free hand could pivot the door handle open. Mason shoved the door closed right behind them before placing Andy down. "You forget, I don’t have to be patient with you anymore." He had said it lightly enough, even with the hint of a small smile pulling at his lips, but underneath it was filled with promise and warning. Mason didn’t have patience. He didn’t have to tolerate her excessive teasing, hot outfits or otherwise anymore. Her only saving grace was that there was such a thing as public decency and he didn’t want to overwhelm her or give her the impression he was only with her for her body.

Mason’s lips swooped down on hers irresistibly and slowly guided her further into his cabin as his hands cupped her face. His kiss quickly grew into something more. Something hungry and full of longing like he hadn’t had her last night, but been deprived of her. His nose gently exhaled against her, caught for breath but unwilling to part from her. He removed his coat that he had come to find unnecessary with the new heat taking over the cabin, letting it fall to the floor.

The corner of Andy’s lips curved into something more mischievous when he set her down. "Maybe I like you this way," she confessed, her voice soft but needy in a way it could only be in the privacy of his cabin. If he hadn’t closed the space between them as swiftly as he did, the likelihood of her jumping him was rising with every passing second. Her lips met his, matching his desperation and fervor with every kiss. Her breaths grew heavy as she quickly pulled her own jacket off and tossed it aside somewhere she could worry about… later.

Mason managed to draw back letting their breaths mingle as he remained close, eyes falling to her body while his hands clutched her waist. "About that shower…" He gestured to his bathroom. "I’ll be right behind you." Mason tapped her behind again encouragingly.

By no means was he dismissing the idea of sex or her at all, but he wanted to make his cabin a little more…tidy. For afterwards when they were cuddling or talking and she could observe and scrutinize his cabin.

Andy had already curled her fingers around the hem of his shirt and started inching it up his torso when Mason pulled away. She groaned, looking up at him with a devious glint behind her eyes that said, if just for a moment, she was contemplating not listening to him… Not even remotely. She squinted before reluctantly letting go of his shirt with a frustrated sigh. "Fine," she grumped, holding his gaze intently as she slipped off one shoe and left it on the ground in front of him. She then turned around, took a step toward the bathroom and slipped off the other shoe, then one sock, and the other. Until finally, in the doorway to the bathroom, she pulled off her shirt and made a show of dropping it on the ground, while keeping her back to him. If he was going to make her suffer through waiting, then so could he. "Don’t take too long," she warned him before disappearing into the other room.

He looked down at the shoe she slipped off in front of him then up at Andy, who pointedly left a small trail and tease of what he dared to delay. Her top came off and Mason swallowed heavily, taking one hypnotized heavy step towards her before remembering why he sent her in first. No, he could see her later. Literally in a minute. 30 seconds if he was fast.

She made her way over to the shower, turning on the hot water so it could get up to temperature while she undressed—or finished undressing. Andy hooked her fingers in the waistband of her shorts, pulling them off and leaving them on the ground off to the side. As she stood back up, she looked over toward the shelves along the wall, noting the singular body wash and 2-in-1 shampoo. Without giving it much thought, she waved her hand, conjuring her usual products along the shelf beside his. Seeing the contrast between the bright colored bottles and his black ones gave her pause, just for a second. It was something so small, but often seen as a subtle symbol of two lives slowly merging. She wasn’t sure if Mason would even notice or care, but she couldn’t fight the unabashedly content smile that grew at the sight. Before she could overthink something so simple, she stepped into the shower and beneath the warm water.

It wasn’t until he heard the water running he unfroze and scurried around his cabin to throw out his ashtray. Fuck it, he could get another one or smoke outside. He found his pack of cigarettes sitting on a table and jammed them in his bedside drawer. He collected clothes still sticking out of his closet from attempting to find something last night, and threw or kicked them back in. He gave a quick look around and was satisfied that his cabin looked slightly more presentable for Andy, aside from her own clothes strewn about, but that was worn as a badge of honor.

Now, all that was left was to join his girlfriend. Mason stripped, leaving his clothes in a heap before entering the bathroom. He silently stepped up to her. Opposed to the heat and urgency he showed before, he seemed to regain some sense of control all the while his eyes took all of her in. Imagination never did it justice. "Trust me?"

Andy was standing beneath the water, letting it cascade over her body, removing the sweat and grit from training while dampening her hair. She ran her hands over her face and opened her eyes at the sound of his voice, finding him standing before her. "Of course," she replied with a smile and a soft laugh at the absurdity of his question.

He kissed her tenderly, lips lingering in gratitude and assurance then took her hips and spun her around gently. His arm slowly wrapped around her core to steady her while his free hand tipped her chin back, sure her face avoided the stream of water. He bowed his head forward to kiss her earlobe, spotting some extra splash of color against his shelves and typical products. Mason smiled against her ear with a low hum. "You making yourself at home?" He kissed as close to her mouth as she allowed. He pressed his body flush against hers as his hand travelled south, drifting below her navel and settling between her thighs.

She melted into his kiss like it was where she had always belonged, like the world didn’t make sense until they were together. Andy heeded his guidance as he turned her, bodies molding together as one where his chest met her back. One of her hands wrapped around his arm while the other reached over her shoulder to hook around the back of his neck and entangled her fingers in his hair. Her smile returned, followed by a laugh that was lost beneath the falling water and heavy breaths. She went to reply but other sounds fell from her lips in the absence of words, and they were quickly lost in each other’s embrace beneath a cloud of steam.

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