Ascendants // 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔢𝔭

It had been years since he’d been back on these streets. Back in the cold air of New Hampshire during the fall. The last time he was here purposely was… hell it was when Ares chose him. When he was fighting in that ring illegally and fell through the portal to his new life.

Now he was walking down the street, so much older and carrying his son on his shoulders. Said son was tugging on his dad’s hair pointing at a playground where a bunch of other children were playing. The hair pulling didn’t hurt but it wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world either. So he caved and turned into the play area.

River set Pip down on the ground and released him to go play. The young boy took off before River could so much as offer a warning to him face to face. So he resulted to calling after him. “Be careful ok , Bud?”

“Ok, daddy!” Pip called back waving a hand and immediately climbing onto the apparatus.

They stayed there for a while. River mostly on his phone either answering messages from the other ascendents as they came in, answering the group chat from his students who were supposed to be training, or taking pictures of Pip and sending them to Laurie who he knew couldn’t answer yet.

While he was doing all of this, Ares was in the back of his mind basically fawning over his surrogate grandson. Anytime River called him out on it, Ares scoffed and insisted he was doing nothing of the sort, which caused River to smile and hold back a laugh.

Getting closer to when Laurie would be released from set, River finished a quick message, sent it to the leader’s chat, and stood from the bench he was at. He took a breath to call for Pip but stopped when a child suddenly appeared at his feet.

Blinking River looked down at him and furrowed his brow. This strawberry blond boy looked familiar but he knew he’d never met this kid before in his life. “Hey, buddy. You ok?” River asked gently. When the kid nodded but kept staring at him, River looked up and around for someone. “Where are your parents?” he asked giving the kid a smile. The boy shrugged and decided not to elaborate.

So helpful…

“How did you get that?” The boy asked cutting into River’s thoughts and pointing to his hand. River raised his hand to see the scar the boy was pointing at. Two perfectly circular holes.

“Oh this? Um…” River tried to think of how he was going to respond. He figured the truth would be believable enough for the kid. He was young enough. “Fighting a snake.”

Technically it was true. It was a bite from a snake. But it had been Luka in her snake form because she “claims” she thought he was someone else. He chose to believe it was a prank. Only thing he was sure about was that it hurt like hell.

“Really?” The kid asked his eyebrows raising in awe. The boy looked down at the man’s wrist and pointed to another scar. This time he stepped closer and actually touched River’s skin. “What about this one?”

“Fought a Giant crab.”

Ceto’s champion had managed to get a few good hits in. Managed to break the skin while he was protecting his face.

“Woah! What about that one?” The kid pointed to River’s throat and he swallowed at the thought of it being inflicted. That wasn’t a memory he liked to remember. That was when everything went to hell.

“A sandstorm monster,” River decided to answer. Because in most was the statement was true. Ripley was a monster.

The little boy’s eyes widened and he grinned at all the cool facts he was learning about this stranger at the park. “Wow. How’d you do all that?”

“A god gave me special powers,” River shrugged and smiled at the kid as he jumped in excitement. More questions were forming on his tongue. He almost had the chance to ask them when the boy turned at his name.

“Oliver!”

River looked up to follow where the voice had come from. When he caught the culprit he stiffened and his smile dropped.

Ares immediately became alert when his champion froze. Cautious of why this was the reaction River was having. “Why’d you pause? Who-?” He cut himself off when he seemed to realize who it was. Quietly he went into a seething rage in the back of River’s mind.

“Oh thank goodness. Thank you for keeping an eye on him,” the woman sighed exasperatedly as she touched her son’s shoulder. Ruffling his hair she smiled as he leaned against her leg and smiled at her. “He has a tendency to run off. Curious little goober.”

River still didn’t move. Still didn’t say anything in response. He was hardly breathing as he stared at the woman in front of him. How she gently scolded her son for running off.

“Thank you um…” She finally looked up at the man in front of her and her brow furrowed. Something seemed to pass through her eyes the longer she looked at River. “Do we know each other?” she asked giving him a wry smile.

River scoffed and lifted his chin a bit. “We should. The question is do you remember me?” he challenged giving her a hard stare.

The woman looked taken aback by then until she realized who exactly she was staring at. Who her son had accidentally sought out to bother because of his scars. Terror replaced her previous expression and she gently pushed Oliver behind her.

“What are you doing here?” She asked accusingly. As if she were worried he’d been stalking her and her family. River rolled his eyes and smiled halfheartedly.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I am visiting my hometown with my husband while he’s filming a movie. My son is over there on the slide.” He pointed to Pip who waved and he smiled back at him as he took his turn doing down. River turned his attention back to Oliver’s mother and resumed his hard look.

The woman looked back at the play area to spot Pip just as he waved. She turned back around while River’s eyes were still on his son and noticed the scars that covered his body. Ugly mangled wounds that littered his flesh. “My god. What happened to-“ she stopped herself and attempted to try and touch his face. She only stopped when Oliver spoke up.

“He fought a sandstorm monster!”

River smiled and turned his hand palm up so the kid could slap it. The grinned triumphantly when the boy took the high-five. “That’s right kid. But I don’t think your mom cares for the details.”

Pip came running up to his dad excitedly and somewhat out of breath. River scooped him up into his arms and smiled at him warmly as Pip asked him a question. “Daddy! Can we go get ice cream?” he asked excitedly wrapping his hands around his father’s neck.

“Tell you what,” River started as he shifted his son so he could free one arm. “Uncle Jesse just opened up a new restaurant a couple blocks away and i’m sure he’d be willing to let you try his new cake recipes. We can bring a slice to papa and meet him at work before going home. How’s that sound?” he asked.

“Cake! Cake! Cake! Cake!” Pip cheered excitedly and River joined him in a quieter chant. He started moving around Oliver and his mom still chanting as they went.

“River-“ the woman tried. Loud enough for River to hear but not loud enough to cause a scene.

“Bye mom.”

(Note here, this isn't necessarily canon, especially in Part III. It's an interpretation of potential events, but regardless, enjoy. Some content warning for family arguments and self-hatred but it's Ascendants, we know the drill by now. Please note that this is also told from a character perspective, which means there will be bias due to that in dialogue and description, especially reflecting a character's feeling, however rational or irrational they may seem. )


Part I: The Idea of Family

Since she was young, Luka had always idealized the idea of family. She collected tales from her friends about their families, about how their mothers and fathers would take them out to arcades, or about how they’d play games with their siblings. Luka didn’t have any siblings, she thinks her dad would have wanted another kid. But how could he have another kid? The woman who gave birth to Luka left just months after she was born. That woman went through nine months of carrying a kid to term, just to leave because of the responsibility and time a kid took.

Until she was in her early teens, her father had worked hard to sustain for Luka and for himself. It had just been the two of them, and looking back Luka wishes it would have stayed that way. That it would have stayed the way it was, just her and her dad. He was great, he’d always make time for her, no matter how busy he was. Whether it be playing games with her, helping her bake chocolate chip cookies to give to her friends, or playing frisbee with her during breezy evenings. As much as she idealized family, part of the reason she wanted a mom was because of her father’s loneliness. He’d become so desolate approaching the anniversary of the day he married Luka’s mother each year, but he tried to hide it. Luka knew he was happy with his choice to stay, that he didn’t love that woman anymore, but he was lonely. He was a single dad, raising a hyper kid who was admittedly a bit of a trouble-maker.

Luka had been glad when he met Juliet Lin Foster. Juliet was a proper woman, she’d wear nice clothing, and her favorite color was red. She had a perfume that smelled like flowers, though Luka could never decipher what flowers they were supposed to smell like, just that the perfume was some imitation of real flowers. Juliet came into their lives when Luka was still a preteen. Luka had always thought her dad and Juliet were a perfect match. Luka’s dad and Juliet were momentary coworkers at a local Childcare Center called Helping Hands Childcare. Luka’s dad had been a construction worker while the place had renovations done, and Juliet worked with babysitting kids, but they had become friends during that time. When they had started to date, Luka got to learn more about Juliet, such as the fact that Juliet couldn’t have kids of her own, that Juliet always wanted to help kids, especially those who were neglected or who lost their families. It made her the perfect addition to their little family.

By the time Luka was fourteen, Juliet and her father had started planning the date of their upcoming wedding. Luka had been buzzing with excitement when her father told her that he proposed to Juliet. She had gone out and picked wildflowers to match Juliet’s flowery perfume, and had given them to the bride-to-be who smiled and thanked her. Juliet and her father were excited, and preparations were made. The wedding date was set for the following year, and Luka was to be the flower girl. None of those things mattered at the time though, because for once, Luka would have a full family. She’d have a mom.

When she was fifteen, approximately four months before the wedding, Luka learned her father died in an accident at work. Not any malfunctions with machinery, but instead someone speeding by recklessly too close to the construction site, drunk. It came so quickly, put her life so off track and off-kilter that she lost sight of what the world even was anymore. What was it? She had been with her father all of her life, and now she was alone.

By the age of fifteen, Luka was close to getting the one thing she always wanted, just to lose everything she had. At the age of thirty-seven, Juliet became a surrogate single mother.

---

Part II: Expectations

For someone who wanted to be a mother as much as Juliet Lin Foster did, Juliet was a horrible parent. That had become obvious over the years, and it was almost laughable with how silly of an idea it seems. The woman who worked with children all of the time couldn’t handle the pressure of raising one.

“Why don’t you ever think before you speak?” The shouting was commonplace at this point. Newly turned seventeen, Luka had learned what life with Juliet Lin Foster really was. It wasn’t horrible at first, but it gradually became a living nightmare.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Luka replied, shoving some books in her backpack, her stormy blue eyes narrowed as she bit out the sarcastic words, “why don’t you ever listen?”

Standing in Luka’s doorway, Juliet Lin Foster stood in all of her angry glory. Instead of actually adopting Luka, Juliet decided to remain as a legal guardian. The plans had been for adoption to occur, but lengthy wait times got in the way, especially whenever Juliet chose to see Luka’s attitudes for the worst and pushed back filing the forms for later. Juliet was always nitpicking the bad grade on one test instead of the overwhelming As at the end of the semester. Always taking the word of one complaint over the numerous days of compliments from Luka’s teachers. Never quite listening to Luka’s side of the story.

“Don’t take on that attitude with me,” Juliet seethed, huffing out as she nitpicked Luka’s room. She seemed to find whatever flaw she wanted to find, settling her gaze on it, and taking a deep breath that signified she was about to go on some tangent, “your bed is a mess. Honestly, how hard is it to put a blanket on a bed, Luka?”

“It isn’t, Julie,” Luka commented, snidely, fixing her gaze on the bed. It looked clean, the pillows neat and on the mattress, and the blanket tucked in. There was one side wrinkled down on the blanket though, making it appear just a bit lopsided. It was so stupid, just the tiniest flaw, but Luka fixed the blanket regardless because Juliet wouldn’t shut up about it until she did. Luka didn’t want to hear any more complaining than she already had to hear. Especially since she already had a bad encounter with a teacher that day, and she knew Juliet wouldn’t drop it anytime soon.

“Good,” Juliet commented when Luka fixed the blankets, arms crossed over her chest, “so the incident at school? What made you think it was okay to disrespect a teacher?”

“He was pointing at kids with a ruler and telling them that there was an idiot at the end of the stick,” Luka megearly defended, knowing full well she was going to lose this argument.

“So you decided to best thing to say was ‘which end?’” Juliet questioned, and Luka crossed her arms, shrugging.

“In retrospect, it does sound worse,” Luka admitted, before jumping to her own defense, “but in fairness, I didn’t outright say he was stupid, I just implied it. He was the one who got the question wrong and kept insisting he was right even though we showed him our math. Then he got mad because he realized he was wrong. It’s not my fault I was right.”

“He’s a math teacher! He has a degree, he knows more than you do!” Juliet snapped back, increasingly frustrated.

“Yeah?” Luka questioned, rolling her eyes, “well he sure has a funny way of showing that. We were right about the problem, he was wrong.”

“That doesn’t excuse you calling him an idiot-” Juliet started.

“Implying that he’s an idiot.” Luka corrected.

“Whatever! That doesn’t excuse implying your teacher to be an idiot in the middle of class! What did you think would happen? He’d laugh it off and move on?”

“I mean, yeah, if he had a sense of humor and wasn’t an idiot.” Luka replied, and honestly she wished sometimes she had a better filter because she was digging herself in a lot deeper.

That served to agitate Juliet more, but she took a deep breath, obviously trying to calm herself down, “I’m trying so hard to keep you out of trouble, and this is how you repay me? Talking back to your teachers? Insulting other kids? I mean you’ve even backtalked the principal! When are you going to straighten up? Act like the kids your age act?”

“So you want me to go do drugs, drink alcohol, and steal from dollar stores?” Luka questioned with a raised eyebrow, because what the hell did Juliet want her to do? Luka was already acting better than some other kids did. Luka was still in high school, Luka wasn’t in trouble with the law, and other than a few instances of talking back, Luka was relatively well behaved.

“See, you always have something snappy to say. Some rude thing you have to tag on. You know what I mean, Luka.” Juliet commented, annoyed and frustrated, “when are you going to learn that you can’t just be a charity case your whole life?”

It was silent for a few moments, because no matter what argument it was, Juliet didn’t bring up Luka being some troubled charity case all that often. It was said before, but it wasn’t often.

“Is that all I am to you?” She questioned Juliet, arms crossed as she slunk back, “a charity case?”

The hesitance and long pause were enough to answer enough. Not that Luka hadn’t known that, at first Juliet had been eager to help Luka, to step in as a mother and guide Luka. But Juliet’s idea of parenting vs how Luka was raised didn’t exactly mesh. Luka’s dad would let Luka stay up to watch the stars, Juliet closed the curtains and locked the doors at 9:00pm. Luka’s dad would step in if Luka had issues with people or would at least hear her out, Juliet chose to see the worst. It wasn’t too bad, not at first, but it developed into a bigger issue overtime. Juliet had this disposition to believe that kids with troubled past were innately troubled themselves. Some people had issues with high-expectations, parents or guardians expecting the best of them. It was kind of the same for Luka, just in a different way. Juliet had low expectations. She expected Luka to fail, to act out, and looked for any confirmation of those facts. Any wrong move to prove herself right. When Luka would get in trouble or get a lower grade on a test, it was just confirmation of Juliet’s fears. When she did good, that was a fluke or a surprise. Even if it really wasn’t. Even if Luka got straight As and always had her school uniform on correctly, and even if she kept her room clean and trash free.

Slowly, between those few years since her father had been gone, Juliet went from sympathizing with Luka and comforting her to seeing Luka a chore, a task that Juliet got stuck with. A pest she couldn’t quite get rid of and thus was responsible for.

“Luka, listen to me,” Juliet finally spoke, entering the room completely and sitting on Luka’s bed she just made to be perfect. Luka watched the blankets wrinkled under Juliet’s weight, and kept silent, “I know it’s been a hard few years. I know that you’ve been through a lot, and that you’re hurting, but you need to get over it.”

What the hell?

“Your dad wouldn’t want you to do this. He’d want you to be a good kid, to listen to your teachers, to treat other people with respect, to not argue with everyone all the time. Don’t you want to make him proud?” Juliet questioned.

No matter what argument it was, Juliet always used the I just want what’s best for you argument, or she’d inch into the territory of I know you miss your dad. I know it’s hard. But she never went to this extreme. Never brought him into the story like a ****ing puppet.

“Who are you to say what he’d want?” Luka questioned, anger in her voice, rising with her words, “you’re a shitty example of what he’d want for me. You think he’d want his daughter trapped with you and your shitty expectations? I can’t tell whether you expect me to be perfect or expect me to be lower than the ground under your shoes. You know jackshit about my dad. About what he went through for me, about how he raised me to be. He’d rather me speak up and do what I thought was right than to stay quiet and let people walk all over me. He was a better parent than you’ll ever be because he knew how to listen. You’d never know how to do that, with your head shoved so far up your own ass.”

Luka took a deep breath afterward, and she immediately clamped her mouth shut. Juliet looked angry, but strangely calm all the same. Like she expected something like this, like she was coming to terms with some terrible news.

“You’re dad’s dead, Luka,” she said, voice cold, “it doesn’t matter what he wants anymore because he’s dead.” The words felt cruel, and Luka hated hearing them, because she still missed him, “I couldn’t be what he wanted for you, and you’ll never be what I wanted in a daughter. I tried to be what he wanted for you, I tried to take over whenever he was gone, but it’s not easy. It’s not easy at all. You must think it’s so easy.” Juliet said, and she looked so emotionally broken that Luka almost felt bad. Almost.

“I don’t think it’s easy,” Luka commented, “but I think you make it harder than it has to be. I think you got so lost in your expectations for yourself, you started to spread them to me. You expect me to be flawless, you expect me to be trouble, and you can never make up your mind.” Luka said, breathing in the tension, feeling it strain against her lungs, the heavy sting in her eyes, “no one expects you to be perfect, no one expects you to be a mess up, no one but yourself.”

Juliet took a few deep breaths in, visible tears on her face, but she wiped them away with the back of her hands. Luka thought maybe, for once, Juliet had understood. The tears on her cheeks, the feeling of years of tension ebbing away, the comfortable silence settling in the room. Luka thought that for once, Juliet had listened, and that maybe, just maybe, they could repair this broken family. But there’s always the quiet before the storm.

“You need to move on,” Juliet finally said, the peace had shattered back into reality, the rose-colored glasses gone, as Juliet’s hardened eyes focused on Luka. Of course she’d shift this back around on Luka, “what I do? I do because it’s what’s best for you. You should learn to appreciate that, instead of focusing on this whole story of expectations and family. You’re almost a grown up, Luka, it’s time you act like it.”

---

Part III: The Unwanted Curse

Try as undoubtedly as Clementine Lester did, Luka Ravina proved to be two things to the Pantheon over time. Something that was unpredictable and impractical, but something that, no matter how much they tried, they couldn't get the ignorant teen to shut up. At least, not for the longest time. She was always arguing or playing pranks on the others, absolutely childish. An enigma in the shape of a girl, one with a wicked grin and cruel eyes. One that attracted people to her side like a moth to flame, but one that would end up burning those moths when they flew too close, like Icarus to the sun. 

The girl was a controversial one, some people like her, some didn't. She was a problem maker, just like her guide. One that couldn't be addressed simply with words. 

It seemed, for once, Cleo cracked a hole in that theory. Luka understood clearly the feelings the leader had towards her, the feelings many of the others had. 

Cleo despised her, saw her as a problem that needed to be fixed. Dillon saw a rebellious teenager causing more problems then were worth fixing. Naida was gone, but Luka was sure that if the girl was still with them at the base, she'd hate Luka just as much as she always had (Luka could still imagine that glare, directed to her over fire in the night, yelling about how childish it was to play with dangerous powers, to treat it like a game). Irene was someone Luka couldn't stand, and Luka knew it was mutual. Irene was a spitfire, rude and blunt, and Luka was too. It didn't mesh, and with Irene now in her Pantheon, as the chosen of Thor, the bickering got worse. 

The worst was River. Luka couldn't even bring herself to try and knock on his door, to check on him. She let him down too many times, that she knew. She blamed him, when all of this went down, and some twisted part inside of her still did, eager for someone to blame. But the part of her that wasn't so bitter and angry recognized the boy who defended her and Lucien to Cleo when Cleo brought up their pasts and insulted them. River had been the one under fire then, for his relationship with Laurie, and he still defended Lucien and herself to Cleo when Cleo became unreasonably rude. Luka repaid his kindness with ignoring him and treating him like he was in the wrong all because she didn't want to get involved in the drama of his and Laurie's failed relationship. Then everything happened with the kidnappings, and she snapped at him. She blamed him. Told him that he shouldn't have come back without them, and they all knew what that meant. 

You shouldn't have come back at all. 

She didn't mean it, but that didn't matter. Part of her, twisted somewhere deep down, wishes Laurie was here instead of River. That River was the one with the Exiled, not Laurie and the others. But a deeper, sadder part recognizes that then, she'd blame Laurie. Never herself. 

What would have happened had she been there that day, when River and Laurie needed her? Instead of playing like some stupid kid doing dress up and stealing candy. Cleo was right, this was a war, there wasn't time for games or childishness. 

Perhaps even worse, she failed River more than that. Her mission to scout out the Exiled base was an absolute fail. Now the Exiled would have their base on extra guard, knowing they were looking for their friends, and not only that, Luka came back with little to no information, just wounds and labored breathing and the smallest thread of consciousness. Lucien had to fix that mistake. Luka couldn't even do anything useful to bring their friends back, only made the situation worse. Cleo was sure to remind her of it later in a panicked frenzy. 

Lucien was the only one she felt any connection to anymore among the leaders that wasn't sowed with anger or bitterness. Lucien was, against all odds, Luka's closest friend now. Someone like her, young and untrusted and forced to play the part of a leader who had too much weight on their shoulders. 

However, Lucien couldn't keep her tethered for long, Luka knew that much. Cleo's lies were infecting everyone. Everyone was so inclined to believe Laurie would betray them, work with the Exiled against them. Luka refused to believe it. Last time she turned against a friend, she alienated them away from her entirely. Perhaps Laurie was being manipulated or coerced, but Luka saw how he looked at River, back when everything was whole, and he didn't have it in him to ever do anything to hurt anyone, Luka knew that. It was one of the few things Luka trusted. 

"I hate it," Cleo commented, eyes sorrowful and full of regret as they stared away from the others, looking at their table, "I don't want to believe it, but...we have to do something. What if he lets them in? What if they hurt us more?"

The fear in their voice was unmistakable, and long moments of silence stretched, somber and heavy. Dillon and Irene shared a heavy look, and Lucien looked dumbfounded, stolen of his quick wit. 

"He-" her voice was weaker than it typically was, and it drew the attention of the others, "he wouldn't do that," Luka commented, staring at Cleo with tired eyes. She'd been tired since the failed mission, her nights haunted by red eyes and large fangs and screams. By angry yells and torment. Sometimes with laughter and fire and cans of beer and Can you feel the love tonight? 

"Luka-" Cleo started, sounding strangled at the word. Their face pinched in an emotion completely foreign to their face. A look of sympathy, of pity. It pissed her off. 

A sudden bought of laughter, lacking any happiness to it swelled in the room, and Luka brought her hand up to slam against the desk as she curled in slightly, before she looked up, furious eyes locked on Cleo as she pointed at them, "yeah, likely story!" She started, looking around the others, finding it funny, somehow, that they all looked so sad and bleak and lost, "you want me to believe that Mr. Drinks-a-lot suddenly started listening to someone and turned on us? Against his friends and his boyfr-" she winced at the word, spitting out a different one while glaring at Cleo, "sorry, ex-boyfriend? Laurie couldn't even take fighting Fenrir seriously, you want me to believe he suddenly became...what, Jason the killer just because the Exiled asked him nicely?"

Cleo shook their head, seeming for once to try and handle this without yelling, figures, Luka thought, easier to get people to comply when your not off the walls, "Luka, you weren't there," they stated softly, as if talking to a threatened animal. 

"I didn't need to be!" Luka yelled as she stood, "all of this is just some..." she trailed off, throwing her hands up, "it's some excuse to get rid of Laurie. You've always seen him as a problem you didn't want to handle!" 

"That isn't true!" Cleo replied, defensive, but not angry like they often got. Instead guilt was in their eyes, so much regret pooled in them. "I know I've treated him like he was a nuisance in the past, but this isn't about that!"

"Like hell it isn't!" Luka snapped back, turning to yell over Irene's head at the leader in the center, "you just want to get rid of him. Whose next after that?" Luka questioned, throwing a hand down the line at her best friend who was staring at her with wide eyes, "Lucien? What, because he has a shitty parent and that makes him an easy target for you? River, because he had a heart and was attached to someone? Theo, because in your eyes he's a weakness? Whose it gonna be, huh Lester?" She questioned, throwing her arms out. 

Then she softened, voice going a bit quieter, "or is it going to be me?" She questioned, tipping her head as she looked at the shocked leader. Cleo must have gotten real good at acting, because the Cleo Luka knew didn't care when they hurt people or caused arguments, they just sat there like some monarch and insulted everyone and tried to boss them around. 

"I'm not going to do that!" Cleo finally replied, but Luka wasn't finished. 

"I know you've always hated my guts," Luka hissed out, "I can't count the amount of times you've compared me to the Exiled, told me I don't deserve to be here, left me out of missions because you're so convinced I would ruin them! You've degraded me and dehumanized me into nothing more than some treacherous snake. So after Laurie, am I the next person on the chopping block? The next elephant in the room that's gotta go?" 

"Luka, stop," she swung her angry gaze to the voice, surprised to see Lucien staring back, shaking his head. 

"I don't want to do that, Luka, I wouldn't do that." Cleo tried to reason. 

Irene was even staring up at her, bewildered, and reaching out a hand as if to guide Luka to sit back down. Glaring, Luka slapped Irene's hand away, backing away from her with a hissed out "don't touch me."

"I don't want to exile Laurie, but I don't know what else we can do," Cleo commented, voice broken, warbling as if dangerously close to tears. From what, Luka had no idea, but she also had no pity. She didn't feel bad for Clementine, not after what they did to River and Laurie and everyone else. 

"Yeah, because the only way to handle the injured dog is to shoot it, right?" Luka replied back. 

"Luka, I'm not trying to be the bad guy!" Cleo hissed out, grabbing at their hair and tugging as they breathed in a long breath and let it out, attempting to calm themselves. "I was just trying to be the leader everyone expected me to be. I don't want to hurt anyone else. I just want to keep everyone safe. Why are you trying to ruin that?!" They asked, glaring at her suddenly, seems the battle with their temper finally lost, "We wouldn't even be here if you had just listened to me in the first place! I'm just trying to do what's best for us!" They yelled, and for a moment, recognition clogged over Luka's head, causing her hands to clench,  "What I did? I did because it’s what’s best for us. You should understand that, do that! You’re a leader, Luka, it’s about time you act like it instead of making everything worse!”

The words were an echo in Luka's head, just a reiteration of Juliet all over again. Luka could remember the times Cleo brought up how Juliet looked in her interview about Luka being missing, how she seemed suspicious of Luka, how surely that meant Luka was some no-good delinquent who had no right in the Pantheon. She was about to snap back when she was interrupted by someone else. 

"That's enough!" Lucien yelled out, slamming his hands down and getting between the two, on the other side of the table, "just stop arguing! We can talk this out more. This is getting out of hand!" Lucien commented, though Luka knew he wasn't defending Cleo. His gaze looked concerned, between Cleo and Luka. Luka knew he understood, but Luka also knew that he didn't. Luka was so tired of being told to grow up, be better, of being blamed and hated. If people wanted action, she'd give them it. It was silent for a while before she spoke again, a lot more subdued.  

"You know, if that's the only way we can handle it, that's fine." Luka suddenly commented, her demeanor cooling, seemingly giving up as she looked down. 

Cleo looked at her in surprise, as did some of the others. 

"Really, it puts so much in perspective for me, I really must thank you for your wonderful insight," Luka commented, flashing a grin right at Cleo that had an undercurrent of threat to it. 

"What do you mean?" Dillon questioned, looking at her, disconcerted. Obviously he'd catch onto her sarcasm, then again, everyone must have. 

"The Exiled are right," Luka commented, tsking slightly as she looked around the room. She didn't add anymore onto that statement, only leveling a final glare with Cleo, walking past them with a quick brush towards the door. 

They reached out to stop her, grabbing her wrist slightly harshly, their hand was shaking, Luka could tell, and their nails were biting in her skin. It reminded her of Juliet, the way she'd stop Luka when she'd try to walk away. "What do you mean?" they asked, repeating Dillon's question, fear present in their eyes. Good, she thought, they should be afraid. 

"You'll see," Luka commented, stopping and look at Cleo. She let a smirk fly onto her lips, pulling her arm out of Cleo's, "but don't worry, I won't be your burden anymore."

Ignoring any calls for her, the brunette exited the leaders room and went to pack. If she was some unwanted animal in the Ascendants, if they would ignore her, she'd just take things into her own hands. She never needed anyone before, and she didn't need them now. She didn't need their expectations or insults or regret or anger or blame. She'd just handle this herself, before they made it worse. Laurie needed her after all, and she had to get them back. River needed them back. She couldn't let anyone else down anymore, after all. 

Look at me Juliet, she thought as she walked to her room, already plotting what she would do, I'm finally letting it go, that expectation that bothered you so much. 

(Luka's last reply)

Ariella followed behind the rest of the group. She was the tallest so she didn’t need to block everyone’s view by being in front.

Stepping through the portal she was met with a chill. Whether it be from the air or her own sense of unease she couldn’t really be sure the that moment. But she did end up raising the shield strapped to her arm defensively just in case.

She found her mind wandering to Lane as she looked around the decrepit (was that the word? She thought so) place. She had run off on her own and hadn’t said anything to anyone? She knew how important it was to try and get their friends back. How quick they needed to act if they wanted any chance at all. Everyone had already been sitting on their hands long enough and Ariella herself was antsy. So, why did Lane not come with them.

“You’ll do just fine without her, little lion,” Heracles boasted proudly in her head. But, Ariella didn’t respond. Her attention was taken by the bones scattered across the ground.

Her breath caught in her throat as she spotted a skull, punctured by something through the eye. That chill ran back up her arms.

A sound caused her to pause. She stopped and looked in the direction, seeing rubble that had been sitting on a perch now splintered on the ground in a puff of smoke. She watched the area for a second, waiting for confirmation that nothing was suddenly going to jump out an attack them. Reluctantly, she kept moving with the rest of the group, eyes lingering on the rubble that shouldn’t have fallen over on its sturdy ledge.

Things happened like a strike of lightning.

One moment, Irene was clinging to the arm of a giant lobster, stabbing her knife into the gaps where she could. The sounds of splashing water and Enzo’s screaming ex deafened her, even as she ignored Zeus’ nagging in the back of her head. You know, normal stuff.

“Fine, if you really think you can handle it without me-”

The next, her dagger and key shatters in her hand, her brain being unable to process the moment as she’s suddenly hurtling down. Down. Down into the water below. The impact was heavy, and all she could imagine was the overwhelming feeling of abandonment. Something happened, her strength was gone, and she was all alone. Everything after that melded together in a blur. Their enemy was gone, Enzo got screamed at by his ex before the woman left, and Dillon making sure they were ok.

In a split second of clarity, Irene jolted awake, her brain tired and disoriented. Raising up, her head slammed against the wall, and she let out a loud “OW F*ck.” She rubbed the aching spot with her hand, finally taking in the room around her with tired eyes. It was definitely some kind of bedroom or hotel, but she had no recollection of booking one. She glanced to the nightstand beside her and suddenly felt a chill. The broken pieces of her dagger. Her one way to get back to the pantheon.

“Oh,” she remembered. She was tossed aside by Zeus because she wouldn’t listen to him. An empty feeling began to settle in. She was in an unfamiliar country that spoke a language she didn’t understand, no money and no way to get back to the others. It was f*cking lonely.

“Enzo!? Dillon?!” Irene called, forcing herself out of bed before promptly collapsing in a heap of blankets. She still ached from the fight but her brain refused to sit still. She just needed one familiar face.

(Yes I believe so!)

    Styx

“Dillon?” Irene gasped when she saw his face, shuffling herself back to her feet and rushing over to him in a flurry of blankets and sheets. She roughly grabbed him by the shoulders and examined his injuries anxiously. Nothing serious from what she could tell. Soon, Enzo had entered the room as well, and a wave of relief washed over her. The boys were okay. The tension she had been holding released, and she let go of Dillon’s shoulders before backing up. She sat back down on the bed, her adrenaline dissipating as her thoughts finally got under control. “I’m… glad you two are ok.”

Taking the glass of water Enzo offered, Irene gave him a thankful nod before downing it in an instant. It felt like she hadn’t drank anything for weeks, and she needed something to wash the taste of blood from her mouth. Blood, garbage, and a distinct fishy taste, all thanks to Miss Seafood dinner herself.

When Enzo left the room again, and Dillon started asking questions, her head lowered slightly. “I fell,” Irene responded bluntly, turning her head to the nightstand where her broken key was, “and I’m not chosen anymore.”

Theo kept Ariella’s gesture in the back of his mind as he searched the area with Luka. It was nice, but it did little to ease his anxiety of the situation. He tried his best to hide that worry, but it kept spilling out any time he tried. Everything about the situation he hated. The darkness, the bones, the imminent sense of danger, and the least egregious sin of him having to wear black.

The only thing that kept him in the present was Luka elbowing him in the side. It didn’t hurt, and clearly wasn’t meant to, but it did shock him out of that line of thought. He was just glad to have someone there with him.

Though the ill feeling returned when she pulled out a flashlight and shined it down on the ground. Blood, a lot of it.

He was never squeamish when it came to blood, but the couple near death experiences at the hands of a little girl and killer dog were enough to make him nauseous in this instance. Some Blood in the water type bullsh*t. Luka turned her flashlight to the rest of the area, but Theo turned his head away, not wanting to see the rest.

When the leader pulled him aside suddenly, the young man let her do it and crouched down with her. Every part of this was wrong.

“Their defenses can’t be that open if there’s so many dead things around,” he whispered, agitated, “who knows if-”

Theo didn’t dare finish his trail of thought. With all the bones, who knows if any of them belonged to the other kids. There was no way to know for sure, but it didn’t look good. Thankfully it was dropped when Luka suggested they return to the others. He was ready to head back when the two were met with a familiar face.

Chiara? She’d run from where she was investigating and looked out of breath.

“He’s here.”

A ghostly ache filled Theo’s shoulder, causing him to lightly massage it with his other hand. He didn’t need to hear the name, the terror he felt at the moment was enough for him to recognize who she was talking about. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled as he remembered the creature’s voice, talking about the taste of his blood.

“Big bad wolf,” Theo muttered in response, his eyes briefly expressing a haunted sheen before Ariella was mentioned.

Ariella was sent to the worst place he could imagine, and the thought of something happening to her filled him with dread. The fear of the bloodthirsty hound and the fear of something happening to a friend met in his brain and formed an incoherent blob of panic. Adrenaline kicking in, and Theo didn’t waste any time making his way to where she had been sent.

“Ariella? Ariella!” he let out harsh whispers, hoping it was only loud enough for their friend to hear.