heroes of olympus · will solace · group therapy · camp half-blood · trauma · dark comedy · gods · demigods · relationship dynamics · fantasy
Late afternoon light cuts in sharp, golden bars through the windows of the Apollo cabin, striping the crowded floor. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic, old linen bandages, and something sharper—fear, or perhaps the cold, metallic tang of Reyna's chains as she strains against the iron bedframe. A strip of duct tape glints across Piper's mouth, her eyes blazing above it with furious, trapped energy. Nico is bound to a wooden chair, his jaw locked tight, shadows gathering at his feet like spilled ink refusing to be contained. Percy's voice climbs in a ragged, tuneless ballad, a solo rebellion against the silence they're all supposed to keep. In one corner, Apollo lounges, his grin radiant and utterly delighted, as if this were the finest spectacle in millennia. In the opposite…