aim for olympus | { nico / myrcella } blitz

umber vivuus 12a 🥀 [dars]
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aim for olympus | { nico / myrcella } blitz Feb 17, 2019 18:30:48 GMT -5

Post by umber vivuus 12a 🥀 [dars] on Feb 17, 2019 18:30:48 GMT -5

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m y r c e l l a
h u d s o n .

He walked funny.

It was the first thing she'd noticed about him when she first saw him. Must be a District Twelve thing, she'd thought. That was until the second thing she'd noticed about him, a gigantic chip on his shoulder, became apparent. Carrying the weight of the world does that to a person. She considered him, tall and scrappy. The bags under his eyes were probably just as permanent to him as the scars on his knuckles.

He'd fought this war a hundred times before; she saw it in the angry silence that plagued him. He was red as wrath and hot to explode, and that could've been useful if she was able to control it.

Myrcella waited quite some time, until the sun had faded into the tops of the surrounding skyscrapers and the light had turned artificial, to say anything. She stopped to where he rested on a bench in the weight room, pulling her hair into a ponytail, offering a convincing smile. The kind of smile that was threatening to those who couldn't fight, and an invitation to those who could.

"Two people fight against each other," she said, "One out of love and one out of hate. Which wins?"

It was something the elderly liked to ask the youth as a way of teaching them a lesson in the most patronizing way possible. She'd heard the answer more times than she could count, but she waited to see what his would be as she unscrewed her water bottle and took a sip from it.

^{I AM A GARDEN OF BLACK AND RED AGONIES}

gamemaker tallis 🌱 kaitlin.
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aim for olympus | { nico / myrcella } blitz Feb 17, 2019 19:21:36 GMT -5

Post by gamemaker tallis 🌱 kaitlin. on Feb 17, 2019 19:21:36 GMT -5

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n i c o
t h o r n e .

He could see her coming from a mile away.

Myrcella Hudson.

Hers was the kind of name people remember.

The first time he saw her, he thought she looked like glass shattered across a kitchen floor, full of sharp edges, a threat poised in her smile more dangerous than any knife he'd be able to pick up from the blades station. There was something about her, something in the way she held her shoulders, the way her eyes touched everything in a room without ever stopping.

Like she could take the world in a second flat.

He doesn't expect her to come over to him, expects almost everyone in this room to steer clear of him the same way that he has steered clear of the world since being brought into it. Find an ally or two, his mentors had said to him time and again now, tried to force the wisdom into his head until it finally started to ring true, but there were only three people in this world that Nico would ever be able to trust, and none of them were in this room--but then she's walking over, the dark of night haunting through the windows behind her, and some part of him thinks sit up straight.

He doesn't.

The thought makes him angry all the same.

One out of love and one out of hate, she says, looking at him with those eyes of hers, a gaze that makes him feel hollow and transparent and seen. Which wins? He bites the tip of his tongue for a second, presses his lips together and narrows his own eyes to meet her gaze.

He can feel the threat all over his skin.

It makes him smile.

"You really think the two are so separate?"

It's the only reply he gives her beside a pair of raised eyebrows, a half-smirk on his full mouth daring her to challenge him again.

what are men to rocks and mountains?

a haunted house.

umber vivuus 12a 🥀 [dars]
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aim for olympus | { nico / myrcella } blitz Feb 17, 2019 22:41:44 GMT -5

Post by umber vivuus 12a 🥀 [dars] on Feb 17, 2019 22:41:44 GMT -5

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m y r c e l l a
h u d s o n .

"You really think the two are so separate?"

She found herself impressed, looking at the boy with a newfound sense of interest; so he isn't all stinger, after all? There were people made of steel in the world, and people made of paper. There were perks and drawbacks to either, but in the end people always picked or something was chosen for them.

The boy from Five was a paper boy: all frayed edges and delicate enough for the wind to take away. Graceful and beautiful and light, but weak. So easily torn.

The girl from Two was steel: sharp enough to cut, heavy and solid and unmoving. But cold. So, so cold.

Nico Thorne was somewhere in between; while his answer was not the one she'd grown up hearing the same answer to, it was not necessarily wrong. Perhaps he was paper-skinned and smart enough to wear armor from end to end. Maybe he was like Myrcella: delicate on the outside, poison anywhere further than skin-deep.

"Neither," she said, pulling her foot up to the seat and propping her chin against her knee.

"The one who lives is the one who fights for himself. For his own cause."

She let it linger in the air only for a moment before letting her eyes lock onto his.

"What is your cause?"

^{I AM A GARDEN OF BLACK AND RED AGONIES}

gamemaker tallis 🌱 kaitlin.
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aim for olympus | { nico / myrcella } blitz Feb 17, 2019 23:42:44 GMT -5

Post by gamemaker tallis 🌱 kaitlin. on Feb 17, 2019 23:42:44 GMT -5

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n i c o
t h o r n e .

It's a strange thing, to watch her curl in on herself.

Neither she says matter of factly, like she knew the right answer all along and was testing to see if he would get it right. Vaguely, in a way he's not ready to admit, he wonders what she thought of his own answer, wonders if he was able to surprise her. Her answer doesn't surprise him, not really, and he raises his brows in vague disinterest, though he's not sure if it's genuine or a defense, an unwillingness to show this girl from District One the inside of his head.

She pulls her foot up on the bench and curls around herself like a snake, or a lion in its den, like some dangerous creature fooling the world into thinking it soft, into thinking it safe. Nico is not so naive.

There is nothing soft or conciliatory about the girl beside him.

The one who lives is the one who fights for himself.

Nico doesn't know that he agrees with this, doesn't know that it's something he can just let go of, not when he has spent his entire life having barbed wire threaded around his skull like some kind of savage crown, his mother's victor even as the crown sheds his own life's blood. Instead he doesn't let his smile drop, refuses to wipe the quiet smirk off his face that Reggie has rolled his eyes at more times than Nico could count.

When her green eyes meet his own hazel ones, he wills them to be a mirror.

"Show me yours and I'll show you mine."