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Feo hadn’t realized how exhausted he was until the moment his body truly relaxed against Lucius. The tension in his chest, the nervous energy buzzing in his fingertips, all of it melted away as warmth began to spread between them under the weight of the blankets. The steady rhythm of Lucius’s breathing lulled him faster than he thought possible, and before long, Feo’s eyelids grew heavy, fluttering shut despite his best efforts to stay alert. Within moments, sleep claimed him entirely, dragging him into its depths with surprising ease. - Feo’s dream was vivid and warm, a stark contrast to the hell that his nightmares often encompassed. He found himself standing in a sunlit meadow, the air filled with the sweet scent of wildflowers and the soft hum of bees. A boy with shining blonde hair and bright, laughing eyes was beside him, the Asgardian boy Feo had often dreamed of before. Usually dying, in a sense. The boy was grinning wide, his freckled cheeks glowing under the golden light as he reached out to pull Feo toward a bubbling brook nearby. - “Come on, slowpoke!” the boy called out, his voice teasing but kind. Feo laughed, his steps light as he followed the boy through the tall grass. They skipped stones across the water, their laughter echoing in the tranquil air. They raced up a hill, tumbling into the soft grass at the top, and lay there catching their breath, staring up at a sky so blue it felt endless. - The boy turned to Feo, his grin widening. “You’re not so bad at this whole ‘having fun’ thing, you know?” - Feo laughed again, the sound carefree and unburdened. “I guess I had a good teacher,” he replied, nudging the boy’s shoulder lightly. - Time seemed to pass in a hazy, dreamlike blur. They climbed trees, the boy daring Feo to go higher, and waded through a cool, clear stream, splashing each other until they were both soaked. Feo felt a happiness so pure and unfiltered that it made his chest ache, like he was a child again, unbound by worries or fears. - But as the dream stretched on, something began to change. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, the Asgardian boy’s features began to shift. His light hair darkened, taking on a more golden hue. His laughter, though still warm, carried a slightly different timbre, one that Feo instinctively recognized. - By the time the boy turned to face him again, it wasn’t the Asgardian boy at all anymore. It was Lucius. - Feo’s breath hitched in the dream, his heart pounding in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying. Lucius smiled at him, the same lopsided smile that always seemed to light up his entire face. Feo felt his chest tighten, a swell of emotion rising that he couldn’t quite name. - “You okay, Feo?” Lucius asked softly, his voice tinged with gentle concern. - Feo opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. The meadow around them seemed to fade, the colors dimming, the warmth draining away. Lucius’s expression flickered with something unreadable, and then Feo felt himself falling, the ground disappearing beneath him. - Feo's eyes snapped open, his body tense and his heart racing. For a moment, he couldn’t place where he was. - It took him a second to remember: the hotel room, the storm, Lucius. His arms were still loosely draped around Lucius’s frame, and the warmth between them was a grounding comfort. Feo’s breathing slowed as the remnants of the dream lingered in his mind, vivid and disorienting. - He stared at the back of Lucius’s head, his golden hair just visible in the dim light, and felt his heart ache with a confusing mix of emotions. The dream had felt so real, so intense, and the realization that it was Lucius in the end… Feo wasn’t sure what it meant. - His grip tightened just slightly, as if to reassure himself that Lucius was still there, still safe. Feo closed his eyes again with a soft sigh. |
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Lightbringer
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Lucius narrowed his eyes briefly. It was still late, the room was dark but the storm had seemed to pass by. He sank down again, trying to doze off once more. Feo was still there, he could hear his breathing, feeling the warmth. His arm was still over him. He was safe. He was safe. Feo was safe. He settled back and sighed quietly, trying to slip back into some semblance of sleep. The eye was right there again, looking down at him for whatever reason. Lucius waved his arms in the air for a few moments, shaking his head. "... can I help you?" He tilted his head, waiting for the response. The being said nothing at first. "Hello?" "Weren't you dead?" The voice rumbled. "... do I look dead?" Lucius said flatly, gesturing to himself and then waving to the bright space of eye in front of him, "who exactly... are you?" The eye closed and a man stood. The mane of red hair was carefully braided, but it melded into an equally thick red beard. The same glowing golden eyes stared back at him. The man held a massive sword in front of him, looking down at him. "... you're not the same one." Lucius shook his head lightly. "Probably not, no. I do get mistaken for a few people though," his wings fluttered slightly, far more relaxed now. "So who exactly are... you?" The man's deep rumbling voice was not comforting as his head tipped down to look at the winged demigod. "I am a watcher." "I mean, I gathered that from the eye thing," Lucius waved one hand lightly. "That ... didn't exactly answer my question--" "You are a mere mortal, boy, you do not ask questions. You do not question the immortal--" "Ohh you're one of those people," Lucius groaned and turned around, setting his hand on his forehead. "All the high and mighty gods and whatever else--" "Do you have a death wish?" "Maybe I do--" Lucius snapped back at him, giving the god a glare. "What are you going to do about it? You're over there shrouded in mystery and acting like the end of the world is just--" The man raised the sword and Lucius flinched, his hands lifting up to shield himself. The god exhaled slowly and lowered the sword. "You do wish to live then, you flinch. That boy is nothing but trouble--" "... Feo?" Lucius questioned, tilting his head. "He's... not really." "He pissed Loki--" "Ahh, see, no," Lucius gave the god a sharper grin, his eyes glittering brightly. "That was me. That's all me. I'm showing Feo that he can be more than a pawn because he's wonderful, he's gentle and caring. He is more than just a little pawn for some cranky old god. He's mine--he... he's my friend, he's more than that. You won't understand because you're a god, you're stubborn and immortal. You can't change. You refuse," the words tumbled from his lips. "So do yourself a favor and focus on your own problems--" "You are now my problem," the god leaned forward. "Because now I have to watch for any tricks that Loki will pull--" "Well, clearly you were doing a swell job of that before," Lucius stated dryly. "Why do you even care?" "Ragnarok?" "Can't happen if Loki doesn't exist." "..." The god's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "... you're a mortal." "And?" Lucius shrugged loosely. "Look, I'm not going to kill him. Violence and I don't get along--" "That's rather obvious." "Yeah. Besides, you have a war to focus on. There's probably a lot more people itching to unleash more than just a little--" "I'm keeping an eye on you," the god hissed, "you are being watched." "By who?" "My name is Heimdall." Lucius dipped his head but inwardly his heart skipped a beat. That... was probably far less good than he had initially expected. "... I'll keep Feo out of trouble," he said weakly. The god finally nodded, somewhat amused and the dream ended.
Oh he was in so much trouble. Of all the gods to get the attention of, it had to be him? The literal god who could see anything, anyone, anywhere--that guy?! Oh that was a problem. But the faint light streaming in through the curtains reminded him where he was. "... Feo?" He asked quietly. "Are you up?" |
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[ A bit on the small end - I didn't have many ideas >.> ] ~ Feo opened his eyes slowly, the faint glow of the storm filtering through the curtains casting soft, shifting shadows across the room. His chest rose and fell steadily, his breaths in sync with the quiet rhythm of Lucius’s. For a moment, he didn’t move, content to let the warmth between them settle into his awareness. - He blinked a few times, the vivid remnants of his dream still swirling in his mind—the laughter, the shared adventures, and then the slow shift that changed everything. The face that had once belonged to the Asgardian boy had transformed into Lucius’s, and the emotions that came with that realization were still echoing in his chest. - His gaze drifted downward to the back of Lucius’s head, soft strands of dark hair peeking out from where they were mussed by the pillow. Feo leaned forward, the side of his face brushing lightly against Lucius’s neck, looking up at him. The contact was grounding, a quiet reassurance he didn’t realize he needed. - “Yes, I’m up,” he murmured softly, his voice low and husky from sleep. The words carried a warmth that surprised even him. He hesitated for a moment before continuing, his breath lightly grazing Lucius’s skin. “Are you alright, dove?” - Feo shifted slightly, his arms still loosely draped around Lucius as if he feared letting go would somehow shatter the fragile peace of the moment. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of Lucius’s breathing beneath his touch, a quiet comfort that made the lingering traces of his dream feel less overwhelming. - The blankets had tangled around them during the night, and Feo instinctively adjusted them, tucking the edges around Lucius with a careful touch. The storm outside had calmed into a sprinkle, the muted sound of the rain against the windows now feeling more like a lullaby than a threat. - He exhaled softly, his heart still pounding faintly from the emotions stirred by his dream. “I mean it,” he added, his voice quieter now, almost tentative. “If there’s anything you need... or if you want me to back off, that's okay, too.” - The acceptance in his tone lingered in the air as he waited for Lucius’s response, his own thoughts caught somewhere between the remnants of his dream and the reality of the person he held so close. |
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Lightbringer
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((No worries. I'm on mobile now. So these might be a bit shorter because mobile sucks .>.)) Feo was up and that was at least somewhat comforting. But the other issue was the fact that he had the dream, the visitation. In reality, it was probably one of the first times he had really come face to face with any sort of god. Perhaps tellingly, he had mouthed off instead of showing any sort of respect. He felt like that accurately explained him. Lucius gave him a warmer smile. Dove. What a sappy and sweet little nickname. That was partially why he had said what he had to the god. Because he knew Feo. He knew he was much more than the god had seen. Not that he cared what he had seen. It was already cemented in his mind. That the actions previously performed had not been by his Raven. But by Loki. The cranky old jealous waste of godly essence. "I--no, no please stay," Lucius tightened his own hold on Feo's arm. He wasn't ready to let him go. Not like that. He needed him to stay close. Especially since he had the dream... and the implications from that. Lucius let out a weary breath and sighed. It was a far more confused sigh than anything else. "I think I might be in trouble. But I'm not sure entirely," he finally admitted. "I... I had a dream last night," the young man began to explain, piecing through the fog of sleep. "And, well, Heimdall. Heimdall came to try and pester me and I mouthed off." Which shouldn't be terribly surprising. Lucius was less likely to bow than he was to mouth off. "He kept trying to state that he was upset that Loki was getting antsy and pissy, but he kept trying to blame you. That's not true. I'm the one behind it--and I'm proud of you. You've done so much good and I can't imagine... not having you," he drifted lightly on a tangent, "he said he was going to keep an eye on us... and uh... told me to keep you out of trouble. I didn't know he could do that." Lucius rolled onto his back to look up at Feo. "... so, we may have to adjust plans... by a lot. Uhm... how does ... traveling the world sound? Eh? Y'know... finding ourselves and miscellaneous information...?" His voice was jittering on the verge of chuckling laughter. But he couldn't hide a small flash of terror. "... how much trouble am I in?" |
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Feo stiffened slightly at Lucius’s words, his mind racing as he processed the confession. Heimdall. Heimdall. A god—not just any god, but one of the most vigilant beings in existence—had decided to make himself known. Feo wasn’t sure what unsettled him more: the fact that Heimdall was now watching them, or that Lucius had chosen to mouth off to him. - He remained silent, his thoughts a whirlwind of concern, disbelief, and—strangely—pride. The way Lucius spoke, how he shifted responsibility onto himself rather than Feo, despite the fact the Heimdall could likely crush him with just a thought—the sheer courage to speak back to a god with direct disrespect filled his chest with a warmth he couldn’t quite describe. But the mention of Heimdall watching them, blaming him for Loki’s actions, left a bitter taste in his mouth. - He propped himself up slightly on his elbow, his gaze meeting Lucius’s as the other man turned to look at him. The dim light of the stormy morning softened Lucius’s features, but the faint flicker of fear in his sapphire eyes was unmistakable. - “First of all,” Feo began, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside his mind, “you mouthed off to Heimdall? Of all the gods, Lucius?” He shook his head, a mix of exasperation and admiration tugging at his lips. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.” - His expression softened as Lucius continued, the nervous chuckle in his voice doing little to mask the underlying terror. Feo reached out, brushing a strand of dark hair from Lucius’s face. “You’re not in this alone, Dove,” he said quietly. “If Heimdall wants to blame someone, he can come for me. Let him watch all he wants—I’ve got nothing to hide.” - The suggestion of traveling the world gave Feo pause. His initial instinct was to brush it off, to tell Lucius that running wasn’t the answer. But then he saw the flicker of something in his expression—a mix of hope and desperation, a desire for freedom, for escape. Feo couldn’t deny that the idea was tempting, even if it was born out of fear. - “Traveling the world, huh?” he mused, a small smile curving his lips. “You’re thinking of running from Heimdall and calling it ‘finding ourselves’? Bold strategy.” His teasing tone didn’t quite hide the affection in his voice. - He leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to Lucius’s temple, the action alone sending a wave of happiness through him. “I think you’re in... some trouble,” he admitted. “But we’ll figure it out. If we have to adjust plans, we will. If we have to travel halfway across the world, then so be it. As long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we go.” - Feo settled back down beside Lucius, his hand resting lightly on his chest. “But for now,” he added, his tone more serious, “we need to think this through. Running might buy us time, but if Heimdall really is watching, we’ll need a better plan than just... wandering aimlessly.” - A better plan, like the one forming once more in Feo's mind. If he could find a way back to Asgard.. to drown his father in his own gore before he even managed to break free.. - Not the time to think about that, though. - His eyes searched Lucius’s face, trying to gauge his thoughts. “Tell me more about the dream,” he said softly. “What exactly did Heimdall say? And how worried do I need to be about you getting yourself into more trouble?” |
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Lightbringer
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It was the stiffness from Feo that gave Lucius a relatively good idea of how much trouble he was in. It was a lot. Oh that was going to be absolutely wonderful. Yay... "I--I know. It was instinct--!" Lucius covered his face with both hands and groaned. He had mouthed off. To Heimdall. Because he hadn't thought first. To be fair, the god had started it. Lucius just subtly returned the energy he was receiving. His hands shifted slightly, looking up at Feo. He--he was proud of him? Lucius really was a bad influence. Wow. But he couldn't mask the sheer terror that swept through his chest as the Norse demigod determined to let Heimdall come for him. "No--no, no," his hands swept up, gripping Feo's shoulders. "Absolutely not. He--I can't lose you--" He let out a weary breath and shook his head. That was a thought that sent hot spikes of dread and fear down his spine. He couldn't... he couldn't stand that idea. Absolutely not. No. It nearly brought tears to prick his eyes. He didn't want to go back. He wanted to keep Feo there. His Raven. He knew, he understood what it was like, Feo kept him in line and he ... he cared. Lucius cared for Feo. To take that away from him? No. It wasn't fair. He took a few moments to breathe, regaining his composure before he began to speak again. "I... I mean, it isn't technically running. It's just keeping you... and myself... out of trouble... while we think of another plan," Lucius said slowly, laying out his thoughts aloud as they came to him. "Who knows, maybe if I can get the good favor of Heimdall in keeping you out of trouble, he'll fund the little escapade. Then, we won't have to worry about money." Lucius fell silent again as he thought about the dream. How--right. Right. "Well first, he asked if I was dead. I'm not dead and I pointed that out to him. But all I saw at first was this giant eye. He then said he was a watcher--all cryptic and vague. I got frustrated and told him I figured that out. He got snippy and told me that I was just a mortal and I didn't get to ask questions," his nose crinkled, mocking the god with his hand. "I told him he was one of those people. He asked if I had a deathwish, I think I said yes. He said I didn't. ... he's not wrong." Well, not anymore. "That was when he said you were trouble and I cut him off and said you weren't because I know you. You're kind, gentle, clever and everything to me," his eyes softened, "you care, you want to do better and you're working towards it. I think it caught him off guard. But he went off talking about how now he had to pay attention to what Loki was doing. Which, shouldn't he have been doing that already? But hey, not my job right? He then rambled about Ragnarok and I said it couldn't happen if Loki wasn't alive. Becuase Loki is supposed to start it. That can't happen if Loki isn't alive." Lucius let out a weary breath, a little winded from talking right after waking up. "He said good luck becuase I look like I'm allergic to violence. He's not wrong. Then he said he's keeping an eye on us and told me to keep you out of trouble," he blew a small and short breath. "... and then I woke up... that was it. But I... yeah. I think, I might be a little bit in trouble?" |
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Feo listened intently, his gaze locked on Lucius as he pieced together the details of the dream. Every word only seemed to deepen the knot in his chest. Heimdall. Ragnarok. Loki. It was too much to process all at once, but what struck him most was the raw emotion in Lucius’s voice, the fear, and desperation to protect him—even against the gods themselves. - When Lucius gripped his shoulders, panic etched into every line of his face, Feo instinctively placed a hand over Lucius’s, gently but firmly grounding him. “Lucius,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the storm raging in his thoughts. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” - The sheer terror in Lucius’s sapphire eyes tugged at Feo’s heart, making him want to pull the other man close and never let go. He didn’t want Lucius to carry that kind of weight alone—especially not for him. - “You really mouthed off to Heimdall,” Feo said, a mixture of disbelief and reluctant admiration coloring his tone. “And called him ‘one of those people.’ I—” He ran a hand down his face, half-laughing and half-sighing. “You’re incredible, you know that? Reckless, but incredible.” - Feo’s heart swelled at Lucius’s words, the way he had stood up for him, defended him to a literal god. Kind, gentle, clever, and everything to me. Those words lingered in his mind, warming him from the inside out. He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly along Lucius’s jawline before tilting his chin up so their eyes met. “You’re everything to me too,” he murmu-red. “But Lucius, you can’t take all of this on yourself. You don’t have to. If Heimdall or anyone else thinks I’m trouble, let them. I’ll handle it.” - The mention of Ragnarok and Loki sent a chill through him, though he didn’t let it show. Instead, he focused on the way Lucius seemed to deflate, exhausted from recounting the dream. Feo shifted closer, wrapping his arms around Lucius in a protective embrace. “We’ll figure this out,” he said firmly, his voice a low, reassuring murmur. - The idea of running—traveling the world together—still hung in the air, tempting and terrifying in equal measure. “You might be in a.. lot of little trouble,” Feo admitted with a faint smile, “but if we’re in this together, I think we can handle it. Even if it means charming Heimdall into funding our grand adventure.” Or tricking Loki into being murdered by the very thing he tricked others into creating, he thought bitterly. - He rested his forehead against Lucius’s, his eyes soft with affection. “But you need to promise me something. No more blaming yourself for everything. We’ll handle Heimdall, Loki, Ragnarok, or whatever else comes our way. Together. Okay?” - His thumb brushed gently along Lucius’s cheek, his tone playful now. “And maybe, just maybe, let’s try not to antagonize the gods anymore. Or at least, give me a heads-up before you do.” |
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Lightbringer
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A part of Lucius couldn't believe him. Feo said he wasn't but he couldn't make himself believe him. He didn't want to let go at all. Feo's hand caught him out of his thoughts, looking up at him. He knew. He knew more than Heimdall did. Heimdall only saw what was on the outside, he didn't see what was in the inside. Lucius did. "No, Feo, I'm going to be there," Lucius returned, insistent. He was not let him face it alone either. That was not fair. And Lucius was far more worried now but too tired to really care. It hadn't felt like he had actually gotten any sleep. Just went from one thing to another thing. A fainter smile drifted over his face. "It'll be easy, right?" Lucius drew a much more lopsided tone to his voice. "Heimdall already thinks that's what we're doing. I don't think he actually knows what we're really working on--" He paused briefly and then fell silent to think. If he was really being honest with himself, he wasn't sure how much he could agree to it. Taking the blame was just... it was a force of habit. It meant that he could change things, he could fix it. "It wasn't on purpose," Lucius let out a weary noise, almost a faint laugh, pushing past the other thought. "What else was I supposed to do? He was being all sorts of prickly and he was being a jerk. I wasn't going to just take that energy, I was going to give it back until he was nice." Lucius leaned into his touch, shaking his head lightly. "But together. Together, we can do this together. We... can come up with another plan. Maybe we can go somewhere that isn't Kansas." Somewhere cool and fun this time. Like New York. Europe and the likes was probably not a great idea to head to for the current future. That was probably one of those really bad ideas. Lucius startled lightly, reminding himself of what he was wearing. "I--I still have your clothes--" He sat up with a bit more difficulty. "I--mine are probably dry now. Let me change--" Lucius moved in a slight flurry to make his way to the bathroom. He had almost forgotten what he was wearing--he couldn't lie it was rather comfortable but it wasn't fair. He was careful with the other clothes, hurrying to throw his own back on. It was quick but he could fix everything later. He just needed his slacks, his shirt and belt. That was it. A little wrinkled but none the worse for wear. Lucius stepped back out, a small and sheepish smile in his eyes as he held the clothing out to Feo. "... sorry." |
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Feo sat back on the bed, watching Lucius intently as he moved toward the bathroom. He couldn't help but feel a soft pull in his chest, a strange mix of affection and concern. Lucius had just spilled out his worries, his fears about what was happening, and Feo couldn’t help but feel like this was his moment, too. - Lucius’s words replayed in Feo's mind, particularly the part about not being able to lose him. The raw emotion in those words settled like a lump in Feo's throat. He understood. He understood better than most. Feo had his own demons, his own long-standing fears about the gods, but Lucius had somehow made him feel safe in a way nothing else ever had. And as much as he’d always tried to keep things lighthearted, there was a part of him now that knew that Lucius wasn’t just another fleeting part of his life. He wasn’t a distraction, a game, or a mission. Lucius mattered. And it wasn’t just a casual kind of caring. It was something much deeper, something that could build and build until they couldn’t be separated by anything, not even gods. - The weight of Heimdall’s warning clouded his head slightly, but Feo refused to let it cast a shadow over them for long. He hadn’t spent years of servitude to the gods only to let them tear down everything he and Lucius had started to build. Not again. He'd never let anyone break his bonds with anyone else ever again. This was their journey, their story. And Feo wasn’t going to let anything stand in the way of that. He believed in Lucius. He believed in them. - When Lucius returned, the awkwardness of his apology only made Feo smile. That sheepish look in his eyes was enough to melt any remnants of tension that had been hanging in the air. Feo leaned back against the headboard, taking them and folding the clothes Lucius handed him with deliberate care. "Don’t apologize," he said softly, shaking his head. "Seriously, I’m just glad to see you up and moving again. Normally. You were walking around like you were carrying Fenrir on your shoulders." His voice was light, as were his eyes. He was so grateful to have gotten sleep. - As Lucius continued to stand there, now wearing his own clothes, Feo’s gaze softened, a playful glint returning to his eyes as he looked him over. "You know," he said, a teasing edge to his voice, "you look a lot better in my clothes than I thought you would. I might just start dressing you every day." The playful tone was meant to ease the lingering tension, but it was more than just a joke. There was something in his eyes—something warm, almost tender—that betrayed the humor. - Feo watched Lucius for a moment, his fingers curling around the clothes Lucius had handed him. There was a quiet, lingering warmth in his chest as Lucius stood there, his hair fluffed. "Maybe look for a comb, too," he teased. - With that, he moved toward the edge of the bed, sat, and began pulling on the clothes Lucius had handed him. The familiar feeling of slipping into something that was his own comforted him, though it also gave him a chance to slow down and collect his thoughts. - He didn’t have to look up to know that Lucius was still there, maybe still uncertain about things, but Feo was willing to try and break his worries, no matter how long it took. It was still there—the connection that was undeniable, even through all the chaos swirling around them. Despite the danger and the weight of the gods’ gaze on them, they had this, at least. |
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Lightbringer
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Fenrir--? Right, right the wolf thing. That was Fenrir right? The young man let out a weary breath and shook his head. "It... I dunno. It felt like it," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "It was just so heavy--everything was. Like all of my limbs and everything, I have never felt like that before," he explained and ruffled his hair a bit. He didn't put them on yet, but set them aside. His face flushed with color as he waved his hands. "I--I don't know about that. B-besides, I-I'm Greek," he stammered. "I--yeah. Yeah. I... hair, a comb," Lucius pushed his hands through his hair. Tousling the golden locks yet again, he lifted his gaze toward the ceiling. "Plan for today, okay, breakfast. Maybe some coffee," he turned to walk along the length of the room, pausing to test his shoes. "... okay some shoes maybe. These are a little damp still. I should've expected that but that's alright. We... uhm... can figure something out--well, I'll probably just wear them anyways. But I think we should still visit this guy anyways, maybe start there just so Heimdall can smooth his feathers. We're on a little journey to find ourselves and learn more about our collective history--safely." And collect odds and ends. If that guy had any advice on collecting things, it'd be great. Not that he knew the name of the guy. "Then--well, we could probably go back to campus and actually pack a bag so that we don't have to worry about all of that again," he really should've prepared better but it was all a haphazard plan to begin with. That was fine, it was somewhere to begin. But at the same time, he began to pace back toward the window. He took in a breath and let it out again. "How do you even contact a god? Should I do it? Or should we both do it? I mean, I can talk fairly well. Also, do I ask Heimdall if it's a good idea for me to carry a weapon?" Lucius shook his head lightly, tutting softly as he pulled the watch from his wrist, letting his feathers unfurl and stretch outward--this time much more aware of where Feo was in respect to his feathers. "Also, what if he wants us to be in Asgard instead? Do we agree? Do we not? I feel like this could go many different ways, I don't know much about Asgard or gods." Also the uncertainty between whether or not he was going to mouth off or not... that was large. He didn't exactly have a great filter sometimes. Especially when it came to gods. |
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Winter 
Night 
Blizzard Moon: 
