open: fauxhalla catch-all 🐎🦉🐗

[fehus]

WHO: Magnus Chase (fehus), Annabeth Chase (athnvas), Clarisse La Rue (areou), & you!
WHERE: Fauxhalla, in the Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah Valley National Park, Virginia.
WHEN: throughout August 🌞🌞🌞
WHAT: hwæt hwæt in the bætt
WARNINGS: unrelentingly mythological teens, Clarisse's fashion choices
NOTES: this is a mingle/catch-all; tagging around and rando starters are encouraged!





[Fauxhalla is many things that are hard to find, for most living across the imPort cities; remote, natural, magical, and often surrounded by small, discreet piles of deer shit. the house, nestled high in a large ash tree in Shenandoah Valley, is guarded by a wooden arch blooming with summer flowers, which you can easily pass through (and see) if you're expected. creaking wooden stairs zigzag up around the ash tree to a sun-spotted porch, where curling plants grow in handmade pots and a hammock swings in the breeze. the heavy oaken door to this rustic, Hook-esque home is closed, but probably not to you, for whatever reason you find yourself here today. behind you, the forest and mountains, vibrant summer greens and scorched yellows, stretch for miles around. there's plenty of sunshine rays to catch, this month of August]

[things thrive with life out here, among and above the trees. what's brought you to the hallowed hall of Fauxhalla, hero?]

Comments

Persephone, OTA

[pummelgranite]

[ There's a half-naked goddess in the breakfast nook. She's all impossibly perfect muscles and flawless cool copper skin and hair that defies the limits of pitiable mortal locks, and wearing aviator shades inside at 11 AM.

So yeah, she's really hot and really in her underwear and really chugging OJ right from the carton. When she's killed it, she groans and rubs at her face again, then starts in on another carton she had nearby. Divine alcohol capacity also means divine hangover capacity. ]

fudge it

[fehus]

[when a similarly shirtless Magnus comes out of his room -- right off the breakfast nook, of course, because where else would his room be -- he isn't anticipating anyone being in the house. a house of early risers was often emptied by 11 at the latest]

[so even though Persephone is a frequent flyer to the treehouse, it's less her person and more any person that has Magnus jumping like a baby goat, looking caught and guilty. jumpy Magnus isn't necessarily new either, but the way he immediately slams his bedroom door behind him (sadly, quite loudly) sure as hel is]

[nightmarist]

[There's probably a good reason Magnus just slammed the door in Ronan's face, but Ronan was in the process of rubbing sleep from his eyes and didn't catch a proper look. So, from behind the door, there's a muffled:]

What the fuck?

[Because he can't (or doesn't care to) take a hint, he opens it up again so that he can proceed to follow Magnus into the kitchen. They're all so lucky he's at least wearing sweatpants - if nothing else.

Ronan, now confronted with the image of a mostly-naked female standing a few feet away, considers himself less lucky.]

Eugh.

[pummelgranite]

[ ugh what the fuck why are magnus and his boyfriend here, in magnus's home? inconsiderate tbh. ]


No. Nnno. Shhhh.

[fehus]

[gods damnit. of course Ronan immediately follows him out. Magnus -- backs up against and into Ronan like he can hide the fact that Ronan is partially dressed, handsomely disheveled, and somewhat nibbled on. maybe she can't see that from where she's pain-squinting? wait, boys are partially dressed all the time, and its not weird until Magnus is backing his ass up into Ronan, which he is]

S-sorry, uh, hey -- I didn't know any you were here?

[Ronan's head is clearly visible behind his, because Ronan is bigger than him. this is Officially Stupid]

[pummelgranite]

Was in the neighborhood.

[ Not true. She had been at a Hip Music Drugs Party for Cool Kids, located in Charlottesville of all places. She got out at 4 AM, way too drunk to ride her bike, but then she remembered she was a fucking god with fucking super powers, so she picked up the bike and jogged the 40 miles to crash on his couch.

That's why there's also a motorcycle in his breakfast nook, oddly enough. ]

Don't let me interrupt your- [ squint ]- pants-on hugging?

[nightmarist]

You didn't. I was just on my way to church.

[And he's averting his eyes, like a good Catholic boy. It's tempting to jump out of his body and flee into the astral plane, but that would probably be rude to Magnus, so Ronan stays right where he is.]

[pummelgranite]

"What?" Glug glug glug, "Jesus church, or Luci church?"

[fehus]

[Magnus has turned steadily redder with this exchange. it appears... somehow... that Persephone can see the hulking great half-dressed boy behind him. insanity]

He's -- pro-Jesus. [Magnus becomes aware that Ronan doesn't typically see almost-naked Persephone as much as Persephone doesn't typically see almost-naked boys coming out of his room] Do you want some clean clothes? I'll get, uh, I'll get you a flannel.

[a foolish notion that will only make her more powerful; Magnus proceeds to turn around and run directly into Ronan, who in a shocking twist of events is still solid as fuckly behind him] Ow. Um. I -- I'll just -- get it.

[nightmarist]

[Ronan appears displeased by the very question, which Magnus answers more politely than he would have. He leaves it at that, as he's obviously not actually on his way to any church, Satanic or not.

Laying his hands on Magnus's shoulders, Ronan simultaneously side-steps him and maneuvers his body, like he's repositioning a Magnus-shaped mannequin. There, now. There's the proper path to the bedroom.]

LISTEN IM A COMPETENT RPER AND I KNOW WHAT FORMAT THIS THREAD IS IN

[pummelgranite]

Huh. Never met him.

[ the flat tone and the way she contemplates the ceiling makes it a little difficult to tell if that's a joke or not. ]

Yeah a shirt'd be cool if you've got one.

shameful.. disgraceful

[fehus]

[oh. there's the bedroom. Magnus mumbles a dazed thanks and goes to his closet, randomly selecting a flannel that will no doubt clash with Persephone's hair and rock n roll style. he returns holding it out like the world's worst offering to the gods. it is, as promised, clean, at least]

[his eyes dart to Ronan, then to Persephone]

-- B...brunch? Anybody?

[so. so they're -- so. so brunch?]

[nightmarist]

Why the fuck not.

[The worst part, he assumes, is over now that Persephone has slightly more clothing. Certainly Ronan isn't going to be putting anything else on. It's fucking summer.]

[pummelgranite]

Shite yes.

[fehus]

[it is now that Magnus notices the bike in the breakfast nook. You know, where they would be sitting. To eat brunch]

Uhhh... let me just...

[he picks it up like a kids big wheel, looks around dumbly for where to put a motorcycle in his home. Maybe... Clarisse's room...?]

You could get coffee started. [a normal comment to make to Ronan while he hefts a motorbike] Um. This is Persephone. If you didn't know what she looks like... [without clothes on] In real life. Persephone, Ronan. [the boy he has been best friends with as long as he's known Persephone. Just friends. Friendly friends, sometimes shirtless? Its fine]

[nightmarist]

[Yes, here he is. Just a completely heterosexual pal. Somehow, even the way Ronan waves hello manages to be sarcastic.]

This isn't how I pictured my first real encounter with the Queen of the Underworld, but I guess that's for the best. Hi.

[He'll be making that coffee now, skulking over to get it started.]

[pummelgranite]

Hey.

[ coming over to try to take her bike back from Magnus. super strength is comedy gold TBH. ]

Laura's fine, if we're going to be having brunch.

[fehus]

It's just brunch!

[Magnus' voice breaks a little. he wipes Bike Grease on his boxers as Laura takes it. this is still going very well and heterosexual]

Breakfast and lunch. I'll -- make pancakes. With fruity smiles.

[he retreats to the kitchen, grabbing some cooking utensils and ingredients in a way that makes it rather obvious he's the main provider of sustenance in Fauxhalla, which is a joke, since he only knows how to make about ten things and most of them are breakfast]

...Smiles of fruit. I mean. Thank you. [the last bit to Ronan, because yes, he definitely needs coffee. more caffeine will settle his Just Got Sprung After Making Out nerves]

[nightmarist]

[Magnus looks like he could use a hug. Ronan just stares at him while he gets the coffee a-brewing.]

Are you gonna be okay, man? I can handle fruity pancakes if you need to sit down for a minute.

[fehus]

[and the longer Ronan stares, the more red he gets. he could probably use a hug and a pat on his head]

I'm fine. Shut up. I just wasn't expecting. [...] To serve brunch. [wait] -- Can you really handle fruity pancakes? [he extends the frying pan, mostly out of curiosity]

[nightmarist]

[And Ronan takes it, looking mildly offended.]

Are you implying that I don't know how to use a frying pan?

[fehus]

I'm implying I've never seen you use a frying pan.

[he digs in the cabinet. a moment later, this is produced. he holds it out witht a completely straight face. he doesn't want him... to burn... the Goods]

[nightmarist]

[Gay Judgment.]

I'm not sure what you think's about to happen here, but it's not gonna involve that.

[fehus]

[Gay Affront.]

Fine. Don't come crying to me when you burn your nipples off.

[he ties the apron on himself, mostly out of a misguided sense of spite. he opens the fridge to bring out the Fruity Fruit]

[nightmarist]

My nipples will be fine.

[And Ronan will get started on the batter.]