Lester Papadopoulos || Aρołło ☼ ♫ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
papadopoulos) wrote2025-05-23 06:53 pm
papadopoulos) wrote2025-05-23 06:53 pm
open: now winter nights enlarge the number of their hours
I feel disgusting.
Dark sucks, so do baby germs.
(Sorry to Sunny.)
-———————————
It’s official. Apollo hates Dark and everything associated with it. Yes, he had been warned, but warning isn’t quite the same as living through it. He hasn’t felt this bad since he was Lester, and Lester almost died multiple times. (But did he ever have to put up with a sinus infection? Arguably as bad as almost turning into a vrykolakas.) His head feels like someone is playing timpani on his sinuses, he can hardly breathe–and to make matters worse, there’s a thunderstorm going on.
Every lightning strike makes him tense, every roll of thunder serves to remind him: “Don’t get on the wrong side of my lightning bolts, boy”. His father’s threats loom large in the back of his mind, like they always do when lightning gets too close. But he has duties to attend to; regardless of how he feels. Mousikí and Stíchoi must get their daily visits and cuddles, even if he would much rather be in bed. He does spend an excessive amount of time with them, even so: Stíchoi is nervous about the storm, and so Apollo --well, Lester-- soothes her with a scratchy-voiced song.
Later in the day – if it is day, it’s hard to tell, he might be found in one of the many kitchens, staring grumpily at a cupboard in hopes of getting at least one teabag out of it. Tea with honey would do wonders to make him feel better, but the mansion spirits seem to be as fickle as the Fates during Dark.
Dark sucks, so do baby germs.
(Sorry to Sunny.)
-———————————
It’s official. Apollo hates Dark and everything associated with it. Yes, he had been warned, but warning isn’t quite the same as living through it. He hasn’t felt this bad since he was Lester, and Lester almost died multiple times. (But did he ever have to put up with a sinus infection? Arguably as bad as almost turning into a vrykolakas.) His head feels like someone is playing timpani on his sinuses, he can hardly breathe–and to make matters worse, there’s a thunderstorm going on.
Every lightning strike makes him tense, every roll of thunder serves to remind him: “Don’t get on the wrong side of my lightning bolts, boy”. His father’s threats loom large in the back of his mind, like they always do when lightning gets too close. But he has duties to attend to; regardless of how he feels. Mousikí and Stíchoi must get their daily visits and cuddles, even if he would much rather be in bed. He does spend an excessive amount of time with them, even so: Stíchoi is nervous about the storm, and so Apollo --well, Lester-- soothes her with a scratchy-voiced song.
Later in the day – if it is day, it’s hard to tell, he might be found in one of the many kitchens, staring grumpily at a cupboard in hopes of getting at least one teabag out of it. Tea with honey would do wonders to make him feel better, but the mansion spirits seem to be as fickle as the Fates during Dark.
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