[ so, someone lets cerberus off his leash and the doors to hades happen to open along with it. luke knows there's a few great warriors who have died and gone to the underworld, some who run with cacti pricking them in places he doubts pins were ever designed to go, with a few retiring in elysium and others in the isles of the blest. but he supposes he shouldn't be surprised he's the one hades calls upon like he's some lapdog with persephone informing him if it hadn't been for him, the helm of darkness never would've been thought to be a token another could easily snatch. as angered as she had been over his theft, he'd seen the pride in hades' eyes, a look that wasn't unfamiliar to luke as he'd seen it in the expressions of a few mortal parents. ]
[ but it's him, luke castellan, and not some great big greek and dead hero, who's been tasked with finding cerberus before he grows lonely and finds a home with better furniture to take to. maybe it's a gig his dad's organised for him, but luke doubts hades would listen to anyone but his wife — he's the hermes' kid who had stolen from three big egos, he's the kid who had put his own grandparent in his place, and apparently the damn dog likes him. ]
[ new york looks better with its buildings erected and without any giants smashing the concrete into craters. it's a little dull without any of the monsters that had plagued it before he had chosen to go to elysium, but luke thinks it suits the city. it's greyer than he remembers, but that's most likely due to the tint of his sunglasses. he walks along the streets with ease to his step, finding that it's just like the time when he'd been a kid, rushing through the legs of the passers-by as he tried to run from a monster or tried to catch a train when he hadn't realised he'd be walking several blocks to find it. ]
[ even though he knows he needs to be looking for a three-headed dog, luke decides to put cerberus on the back burner for a bit. let the kid have some fun before he's chained back up in the underworld and forced to listen to the moaning of that dead poet in the fields. he doubts a dog like cerberus would be terrorising the place, what with the little to no news coverage of a mutated dog roaming the streets. instead of heading toward the park, he makes his way over to brooklyn, looking for the street and the house grover had given him for thalia. tricking him to give him the address had been easy over the phone — a high-pitched and unrealistic voice, and a few flirtatious words a nymph would say, and he'd been a crushed tin can in his hands. ]
[ he thinks he's found the place — a house that's large, with vines crawling up the pillars of it. the grass is too green and the garden too bright, but he supposes that's enough to ward away any monsters from the hunters. the girls never seemed like the type to care about weeding, but he figures artemis might have been a goddess who took pride in her presentation of her own division of lost kids. he walks up to the porch and hesitates on knocking on the door. removing his glasses from over his eyes, he slips them onto the top of his head and presses his hands flat against his jeans as he stalls. for the big brave hero he's meant to be, he sure as hell has found himself afraid of knocking on a damn door. ]
hello sexy legs.
[ but it's him, luke castellan, and not some great big greek and dead hero, who's been tasked with finding cerberus before he grows lonely and finds a home with better furniture to take to. maybe it's a gig his dad's organised for him, but luke doubts hades would listen to anyone but his wife — he's the hermes' kid who had stolen from three big egos, he's the kid who had put his own grandparent in his place, and apparently the damn dog likes him. ]
[ new york looks better with its buildings erected and without any giants smashing the concrete into craters. it's a little dull without any of the monsters that had plagued it before he had chosen to go to elysium, but luke thinks it suits the city. it's greyer than he remembers, but that's most likely due to the tint of his sunglasses. he walks along the streets with ease to his step, finding that it's just like the time when he'd been a kid, rushing through the legs of the passers-by as he tried to run from a monster or tried to catch a train when he hadn't realised he'd be walking several blocks to find it. ]
[ even though he knows he needs to be looking for a three-headed dog, luke decides to put cerberus on the back burner for a bit. let the kid have some fun before he's chained back up in the underworld and forced to listen to the moaning of that dead poet in the fields. he doubts a dog like cerberus would be terrorising the place, what with the little to no news coverage of a mutated dog roaming the streets. instead of heading toward the park, he makes his way over to brooklyn, looking for the street and the house grover had given him for thalia. tricking him to give him the address had been easy over the phone — a high-pitched and unrealistic voice, and a few flirtatious words a nymph would say, and he'd been a crushed tin can in his hands. ]
[ he thinks he's found the place — a house that's large, with vines crawling up the pillars of it. the grass is too green and the garden too bright, but he supposes that's enough to ward away any monsters from the hunters. the girls never seemed like the type to care about weeding, but he figures artemis might have been a goddess who took pride in her presentation of her own division of lost kids. he walks up to the porch and hesitates on knocking on the door. removing his glasses from over his eyes, he slips them onto the top of his head and presses his hands flat against his jeans as he stalls. for the big brave hero he's meant to be, he sure as hell has found himself afraid of knocking on a damn door. ]