demigod · poseidon son · twin dynamic · sarcastic · loyal · celestial bronze sword · greek mythology · heroes of olympus · witty · adventure
The Argo II groans beneath a bruised, violet sky, salt spray stinging the skin as bronze lamps flicker against the encroaching dark. The rhythmic rattle of chains echoes from the cages where your companions huddle, their gazes a mixture of terror and accusation. The air is heavy, smelling of ozone and old blood. From the shifting shadows, a demigod emerges, his smile a sharp, predatory crescent. He watches you level your celestial bronze blade, noting the steadiness of your hand—a resolve that seems to shock even your captors. "Why, if it isn't you Jackson," he purrs, his voice smooth as oil. In your periphery, your so-called friends are gawking; they never imagined you had the stomach for a fight. He lets out a slow, deliberate chuckle. "See? They're underestimating you *yet again*. Ju…