Maverick.
say hi to your mother for me.
Mylo Garrick
unsettled ā Leon beachā outfit ā interactions: Ikenna/Oshea/Antonina
erzulie
fin
cablebelly
Sometimes, Mylo felt like Antonina resembled some sort of big sister. She was the kind of person to sit next to someone and hold their hand through a horror movie. Sheād cover everyoneās ears when the monsters roared, and sheād stifle her own screams to prove that no one needed to be afraid. It often seemed like she was the oldest young woman heād ever met. And he knew that it wasnāt fair that she always had to be the one to keep her eyes open through the scary parts.
If he could get to whatever cruelly crafted, inexorable television she was forced to sit and watch, heād throw it out the window.
And yet, when Oshea said that sheād had a vision, Mylo just sat there.
Antonina was trying her best to stay on her feet, but it was clear that whatever sheād seen had taken a toll on her. Sheād just been dunked in freezing water, and now that she had pulled herself out, it still seemed like she was slipping on the ice.
Oshea had swooped in by this point, and it was clear that for the moment where Antonina wavered, he acted as a lifeboat. Mylo knew that the two shared something that tied them together, and if anyone could pull her up, it was Oshea. But Shea was still Shea. While there was no doubt that he was a good guy, Mylo knew what it meant when oneās hands were only steady when they were wrapped around a weapon. And a bottle could wound, whether full, empty, or broken. There were times where Mylo got the sense that the demigod knew that as well. Some men couldnāt be trusted behind the wheel.
When Oshea glanced at him, Mylo caught his eye.
Please donāt fucking drop her.
It didnāt take long for Antonina to reestablish her roots and raise her chin, and although her features still held a weathered look, sheād begun to carve herself a set of armor. Itād been an entire season since heād been called by the nickname she'd given him, and hearing it sent a jolt through his chest. His tongue appeared to be hiding, because he couldnāt seem to find any words. Instead, all he did was stare, eyes wide and mouth so tight that he couldnāt even summon a smirk when Antonina told off Ikenna with a fiery threat.
When Oshea and Antonina walked off toward the portal, Mylo just watched. He knew that he should get up and chase after her, grab her arm and make sure that she was going to be okay. But he also knew that his presence generally only served to make situations worse rather than better, so he stayed put.
When he was a kid, he would sit on his bed and stare at his door at night as though he were waiting for it to explode. Heād hold his breath and strain his ears, trying to convince himself that the footsteps that he thought heād heard down the hall were really just his own heartbeats. If he held his breath long enough, he could force himself into thin air. If he got up and peeked behind the door, it meant risking a meeting with whatever might be lurking behind it.
If Mylo had been taught to give justice to his feelings through speech, heād say that he felt kind of like that.
But then Ikennaās hand was thrust into his face, offering to pull him back into reality. Mylo stared at it for a moment, and although heād never admit it, a wave of relief washed over him. Even though that same hand had been pummeling his face not ten minutes before, he was almost grateful for it.
āRoommates,ā Mylo muttered, and he was glad to hear that his real voice sounded different than the one in his head. āGreat.ā
He ran his hand over his mouth and chin, making sure his palm was sufficiently bloodied before he grabbed onto Ikennaās wrist. He pulled himself up with a grunt, thrusting himself to his feet as quickly as possible to avoid wobbling. Once standing, he faced Ikenna with a smirk. With the same bloody hand, he gave the other legacy a pat on the back, leaving a faint palm print on a spot that would require an awkward reach to wipe it off. Before Ikenna could respond with some sort of retaliation, Mylo turned and began striding toward the shoreline.
āYāknow,ā he said, raising his voice so that the other man could still hear him as he walked away toward the waves. āIf you hadnāt gone for my fucking nose, I wouldnāt have had to bleed all over my favorite sweater. So thanks for that.ā
Once at the waterās edge, Mylo kicked off his shoes and removed his socks, shoving them in the space between the laces and the soles. Leaving his shoes in the sand, he pulled the hems of his jeans over his calves and waded into the ocean, stopping when the water lapped just below his knees. That was as far as he ever went anymore.
He rolled up his sleeves and bent over to dip his fingers into the sea. With cupped hands, he brought the water to his face. He knew that the salt water was good for cuts. It made wounds heal faster. He thought about that as he let the water drip down his face, washing away the blood from his nose with salty streams that ran just below his eyes. Mylo spent a lot of time at the beach.
He pulled his sleeves back down over his wrists and began to pat his face dry, taking care to avoid touching his nose too harshly. He turned and stomped back toward the shore through the waves. He scooped up his shoes by the laces as he passed them, opting to let them swing by his side rather than putting them back on.
āYou better not have picked up any bad habits while you were away. Fucking roommates. Youāre already on thin fucking ice,ā Mylo told Ikenna as he drew closer, trudging through the sand with bare feet. āYouāre lucky Iām still putting up with your annoying ass.ā
He stopped when he reached his sword. Heād abandoned it before, and it sat in the sand where Oshea had dropped it. He reached down and grasped the hilt, grimacing as though he were reaching into a snake hole. It hissed as the blade scraped through the sand when he pulled it up, but his fist held it steady.
He looked back at Ikenna, tilting his head and letting out a bored sigh. He wasnāt a fan of the portals, and he generally preferred to walk, just as he had last night when heād trekked down to the beach. But right now, he wasnāt in great shape, and he needed to properly clean himself up. Not to mention he didnāt want Ikenna barging into the dorm room before he got there. It would be just his luck if heād left a notebook out or How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days was still queued on the T.V.
With a shrug, he gestured toward the portal with the tip of his sword. The blade led the way, and he let his feet follow.
If he could get to whatever cruelly crafted, inexorable television she was forced to sit and watch, heād throw it out the window.
And yet, when Oshea said that sheād had a vision, Mylo just sat there.
Antonina was trying her best to stay on her feet, but it was clear that whatever sheād seen had taken a toll on her. Sheād just been dunked in freezing water, and now that she had pulled herself out, it still seemed like she was slipping on the ice.
Oshea had swooped in by this point, and it was clear that for the moment where Antonina wavered, he acted as a lifeboat. Mylo knew that the two shared something that tied them together, and if anyone could pull her up, it was Oshea. But Shea was still Shea. While there was no doubt that he was a good guy, Mylo knew what it meant when oneās hands were only steady when they were wrapped around a weapon. And a bottle could wound, whether full, empty, or broken. There were times where Mylo got the sense that the demigod knew that as well. Some men couldnāt be trusted behind the wheel.
When Oshea glanced at him, Mylo caught his eye.
Please donāt fucking drop her.
It didnāt take long for Antonina to reestablish her roots and raise her chin, and although her features still held a weathered look, sheād begun to carve herself a set of armor. Itād been an entire season since heād been called by the nickname she'd given him, and hearing it sent a jolt through his chest. His tongue appeared to be hiding, because he couldnāt seem to find any words. Instead, all he did was stare, eyes wide and mouth so tight that he couldnāt even summon a smirk when Antonina told off Ikenna with a fiery threat.
When Oshea and Antonina walked off toward the portal, Mylo just watched. He knew that he should get up and chase after her, grab her arm and make sure that she was going to be okay. But he also knew that his presence generally only served to make situations worse rather than better, so he stayed put.
When he was a kid, he would sit on his bed and stare at his door at night as though he were waiting for it to explode. Heād hold his breath and strain his ears, trying to convince himself that the footsteps that he thought heād heard down the hall were really just his own heartbeats. If he held his breath long enough, he could force himself into thin air. If he got up and peeked behind the door, it meant risking a meeting with whatever might be lurking behind it.
If Mylo had been taught to give justice to his feelings through speech, heād say that he felt kind of like that.
But then Ikennaās hand was thrust into his face, offering to pull him back into reality. Mylo stared at it for a moment, and although heād never admit it, a wave of relief washed over him. Even though that same hand had been pummeling his face not ten minutes before, he was almost grateful for it.
āRoommates,ā Mylo muttered, and he was glad to hear that his real voice sounded different than the one in his head. āGreat.ā
He ran his hand over his mouth and chin, making sure his palm was sufficiently bloodied before he grabbed onto Ikennaās wrist. He pulled himself up with a grunt, thrusting himself to his feet as quickly as possible to avoid wobbling. Once standing, he faced Ikenna with a smirk. With the same bloody hand, he gave the other legacy a pat on the back, leaving a faint palm print on a spot that would require an awkward reach to wipe it off. Before Ikenna could respond with some sort of retaliation, Mylo turned and began striding toward the shoreline.
āYāknow,ā he said, raising his voice so that the other man could still hear him as he walked away toward the waves. āIf you hadnāt gone for my fucking nose, I wouldnāt have had to bleed all over my favorite sweater. So thanks for that.ā
Once at the waterās edge, Mylo kicked off his shoes and removed his socks, shoving them in the space between the laces and the soles. Leaving his shoes in the sand, he pulled the hems of his jeans over his calves and waded into the ocean, stopping when the water lapped just below his knees. That was as far as he ever went anymore.
He rolled up his sleeves and bent over to dip his fingers into the sea. With cupped hands, he brought the water to his face. He knew that the salt water was good for cuts. It made wounds heal faster. He thought about that as he let the water drip down his face, washing away the blood from his nose with salty streams that ran just below his eyes. Mylo spent a lot of time at the beach.
He pulled his sleeves back down over his wrists and began to pat his face dry, taking care to avoid touching his nose too harshly. He turned and stomped back toward the shore through the waves. He scooped up his shoes by the laces as he passed them, opting to let them swing by his side rather than putting them back on.
āYou better not have picked up any bad habits while you were away. Fucking roommates. Youāre already on thin fucking ice,ā Mylo told Ikenna as he drew closer, trudging through the sand with bare feet. āYouāre lucky Iām still putting up with your annoying ass.ā
He stopped when he reached his sword. Heād abandoned it before, and it sat in the sand where Oshea had dropped it. He reached down and grasped the hilt, grimacing as though he were reaching into a snake hole. It hissed as the blade scraped through the sand when he pulled it up, but his fist held it steady.
He looked back at Ikenna, tilting his head and letting out a bored sigh. He wasnāt a fan of the portals, and he generally preferred to walk, just as he had last night when heād trekked down to the beach. But right now, he wasnāt in great shape, and he needed to properly clean himself up. Not to mention he didnāt want Ikenna barging into the dorm room before he got there. It would be just his luck if heād left a notebook out or How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days was still queued on the T.V.
With a shrug, he gestured toward the portal with the tip of his sword. The blade led the way, and he let his feet follow.
Mylo Garrick
mood: unsettled
location: Leon beach
outfit
interactions: Ikenna/Oshea/Antonina
tags: erzulie fin cablebelly
Sometimes, Mylo felt like Antonina resembled some sort of big sister. She was the kind of person to sit next to someone and hold their hand through a horror movie. Sheād cover everyoneās ears when the monsters roared, and sheād stifle her own screams to prove that no one needed to be afraid. It often seemed like she was the oldest young woman heād ever met. And he knew that it wasnāt fair that she always had to be the one to keep her eyes open through the scary parts.
If he could get to whatever cruelly crafted, inexorable television she was forced to sit and watch, heād throw it out the window.
And yet, when Oshea said that sheād had a vision, Mylo just sat there.
Antonina was trying her best to stay on her feet, but it was clear that whatever sheād seen had taken a toll on her. Sheād just been dunked in freezing water, and now that she had pulled herself out, it still seemed like she was slipping on the ice.
Oshea had swooped in by this point, and it was clear that for the moment where Antonina wavered, he acted as a lifeboat. Mylo knew that the two shared something that tied them together, and if anyone could pull her up, it was Oshea. But Shea was still Shea. While there was no doubt that he was a good guy, Mylo knew what it meant when oneās hands were only steady when they were wrapped around a weapon. And a bottle could wound, whether full, empty, or broken. There were times where Mylo got the sense that the demigod knew that as well. Some men couldnāt be trusted behind the wheel.
When Oshea glanced at him, Mylo caught his eye.
Please donāt fucking drop her.
It didnāt take long for Antonina to reestablish her roots and raise her chin, and although her features still held a weathered look, sheād begun to carve herself a set of armor. Itād been an entire season since heād been called by the nickname she'd given him, and hearing it sent a jolt through his chest. His tongue appeared to be hiding, because he couldnāt seem to find any words. Instead, all he did was stare, eyes wide and mouth so tight that he couldnāt even summon a smirk when Antonina told off Ikenna with a fiery threat.
When Oshea and Antonina walked off toward the portal, Mylo just watched. He knew that he should get up and chase after her, grab her arm and make sure that she was going to be okay. But he also knew that his presence generally only served to make situations worse rather than better, so he stayed put.
When he was a kid, he would sit on his bed and stare at his door at night as though he were waiting for it to explode. Heād hold his breath and strain his ears, trying to convince himself that the footsteps that he thought heād heard down the hall were really just his own heartbeats. If he held his breath long enough, he could force himself into thin air. If he got up and peeked behind the door, it meant risking a meeting with whatever might be lurking behind it.
If Mylo had been taught to give justice to his feelings through speech, heād say that he felt kind of like that.
But then Ikennaās hand was thrust into his face, offering to pull him back into reality. Mylo stared at it for a moment, and although heād never admit it, a wave of relief washed over him. Even though that same hand had been pummeling his face not ten minutes before, he was almost grateful for it.
āRoommates,ā Mylo muttered, and he was glad to hear that his real voice sounded different than the one in his head. āGreat.ā
He ran his hand over his mouth and chin, making sure his palm was sufficiently bloodied before he grabbed onto Ikennaās wrist. He pulled himself up with a grunt, thrusting himself to his feet as quickly as possible to avoid wobbling. Once standing, he faced Ikenna with a smirk. With the same bloody hand, he gave the other legacy a pat on the back, leaving a faint palm print on a spot that would require an awkward reach to wipe it off. Before Ikenna could respond with some sort of retaliation, Mylo turned and began striding toward the shoreline.
āYāknow,ā he said, raising his voice so that the other man could still hear him as he walked away toward the waves. āIf you hadnāt gone for my fucking nose, I wouldnāt have had to bleed all over my favorite sweater. So thanks for that.ā
Once at the waterās edge, Mylo kicked off his shoes and removed his socks, shoving them in the space between the laces and the soles. Leaving his shoes in the sand, he pulled the hems of his jeans over his calves and waded into the ocean, stopping when the water lapped just below his knees. That was as far as he ever went anymore.
He rolled up his sleeves and bent over to dip his fingers into the sea. With cupped hands, he brought the water to his face. He knew that the salt water was good for cuts. It made wounds heal faster. He thought about that as he let the water drip down his face, washing away the blood from his nose with salty streams that ran just below his eyes. Mylo spent a lot of time at the beach.
He pulled his sleeves back down over his wrists and began to pat his face dry, taking care to avoid touching his nose too harshly. He turned and stomped back toward the shore through the waves. He scooped up his shoes by the laces as he passed them, opting to let them swing by his side rather than putting them back on.
āYou better not have picked up any bad habits while you were away. Fucking roommates. Youāre already on thin fucking ice,ā Mylo told Ikenna as he drew closer, trudging through the sand with bare feet. āYouāre lucky Iām still putting up with your annoying ass.ā
He stopped when he reached his sword. Heād abandoned it before, and it sat in the sand where Oshea had dropped it. He reached down and grasped the hilt, grimacing as though he were reaching into a snake hole. It hissed as the blade scraped through the sand when he pulled it up, but his fist held it steady.
He looked back at Ikenna, tilting his head and letting out a bored sigh. He wasnāt a fan of the portals, and he generally preferred to walk, just as he had last night when heād trekked down to the beach. But right now, he wasnāt in great shape, and he needed to properly clean himself up. Not to mention he didnāt want Ikenna barging into the dorm room before he got there. It would be just his luck if heād left a notebook out or How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days was still queued on the T.V.
With a shrug, he gestured toward the portal with the tip of his sword. The blade led the way, and he let his feet follow.
mood: unsettled
location: Leon beach
outfit
interactions: Ikenna/Oshea/Antonina
tags: erzulie fin cablebelly
Sometimes, Mylo felt like Antonina resembled some sort of big sister. She was the kind of person to sit next to someone and hold their hand through a horror movie. Sheād cover everyoneās ears when the monsters roared, and sheād stifle her own screams to prove that no one needed to be afraid. It often seemed like she was the oldest young woman heād ever met. And he knew that it wasnāt fair that she always had to be the one to keep her eyes open through the scary parts.
If he could get to whatever cruelly crafted, inexorable television she was forced to sit and watch, heād throw it out the window.
And yet, when Oshea said that sheād had a vision, Mylo just sat there.
Antonina was trying her best to stay on her feet, but it was clear that whatever sheād seen had taken a toll on her. Sheād just been dunked in freezing water, and now that she had pulled herself out, it still seemed like she was slipping on the ice.
Oshea had swooped in by this point, and it was clear that for the moment where Antonina wavered, he acted as a lifeboat. Mylo knew that the two shared something that tied them together, and if anyone could pull her up, it was Oshea. But Shea was still Shea. While there was no doubt that he was a good guy, Mylo knew what it meant when oneās hands were only steady when they were wrapped around a weapon. And a bottle could wound, whether full, empty, or broken. There were times where Mylo got the sense that the demigod knew that as well. Some men couldnāt be trusted behind the wheel.
When Oshea glanced at him, Mylo caught his eye.
Please donāt fucking drop her.
It didnāt take long for Antonina to reestablish her roots and raise her chin, and although her features still held a weathered look, sheād begun to carve herself a set of armor. Itād been an entire season since heād been called by the nickname she'd given him, and hearing it sent a jolt through his chest. His tongue appeared to be hiding, because he couldnāt seem to find any words. Instead, all he did was stare, eyes wide and mouth so tight that he couldnāt even summon a smirk when Antonina told off Ikenna with a fiery threat.
When Oshea and Antonina walked off toward the portal, Mylo just watched. He knew that he should get up and chase after her, grab her arm and make sure that she was going to be okay. But he also knew that his presence generally only served to make situations worse rather than better, so he stayed put.
When he was a kid, he would sit on his bed and stare at his door at night as though he were waiting for it to explode. Heād hold his breath and strain his ears, trying to convince himself that the footsteps that he thought heād heard down the hall were really just his own heartbeats. If he held his breath long enough, he could force himself into thin air. If he got up and peeked behind the door, it meant risking a meeting with whatever might be lurking behind it.
If Mylo had been taught to give justice to his feelings through speech, heād say that he felt kind of like that.
But then Ikennaās hand was thrust into his face, offering to pull him back into reality. Mylo stared at it for a moment, and although heād never admit it, a wave of relief washed over him. Even though that same hand had been pummeling his face not ten minutes before, he was almost grateful for it.
āRoommates,ā Mylo muttered, and he was glad to hear that his real voice sounded different than the one in his head. āGreat.ā
He ran his hand over his mouth and chin, making sure his palm was sufficiently bloodied before he grabbed onto Ikennaās wrist. He pulled himself up with a grunt, thrusting himself to his feet as quickly as possible to avoid wobbling. Once standing, he faced Ikenna with a smirk. With the same bloody hand, he gave the other legacy a pat on the back, leaving a faint palm print on a spot that would require an awkward reach to wipe it off. Before Ikenna could respond with some sort of retaliation, Mylo turned and began striding toward the shoreline.
āYāknow,ā he said, raising his voice so that the other man could still hear him as he walked away toward the waves. āIf you hadnāt gone for my fucking nose, I wouldnāt have had to bleed all over my favorite sweater. So thanks for that.ā
Once at the waterās edge, Mylo kicked off his shoes and removed his socks, shoving them in the space between the laces and the soles. Leaving his shoes in the sand, he pulled the hems of his jeans over his calves and waded into the ocean, stopping when the water lapped just below his knees. That was as far as he ever went anymore.
He rolled up his sleeves and bent over to dip his fingers into the sea. With cupped hands, he brought the water to his face. He knew that the salt water was good for cuts. It made wounds heal faster. He thought about that as he let the water drip down his face, washing away the blood from his nose with salty streams that ran just below his eyes. Mylo spent a lot of time at the beach.
He pulled his sleeves back down over his wrists and began to pat his face dry, taking care to avoid touching his nose too harshly. He turned and stomped back toward the shore through the waves. He scooped up his shoes by the laces as he passed them, opting to let them swing by his side rather than putting them back on.
āYou better not have picked up any bad habits while you were away. Fucking roommates. Youāre already on thin fucking ice,ā Mylo told Ikenna as he drew closer, trudging through the sand with bare feet. āYouāre lucky Iām still putting up with your annoying ass.ā
He stopped when he reached his sword. Heād abandoned it before, and it sat in the sand where Oshea had dropped it. He reached down and grasped the hilt, grimacing as though he were reaching into a snake hole. It hissed as the blade scraped through the sand when he pulled it up, but his fist held it steady.
He looked back at Ikenna, tilting his head and letting out a bored sigh. He wasnāt a fan of the portals, and he generally preferred to walk, just as he had last night when heād trekked down to the beach. But right now, he wasnāt in great shape, and he needed to properly clean himself up. Not to mention he didnāt want Ikenna barging into the dorm room before he got there. It would be just his luck if heād left a notebook out or How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days was still queued on the T.V.
With a shrug, he gestured toward the portal with the tip of his sword. The blade led the way, and he let his feet follow.