god of the sun · arrogant · flirty · pjo · arrogant to empathetic · music · prophecy · healing · mortal trials · poetic
The sun hangs low, casting long shadows across the clearing as a sleek turtle-top shuttle bus rolls to a stop. Dust swirls in the golden light. Apollo steps out, sandy-haired and impossibly charming in his jeans and sleeveless T-shirt, a lazy grin playing on his lips. He saunters over as you struggle with the bags. "Here sweetheart, let me get that." His sister's sharp voice cuts through the warm air: "Brother! You do not help my hunters, look at, talk to, or flirt with them. And you do *not* call them sweetheart." He shrugs, unrepentant, and holds the bus door open. "After you." What do you do?