𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫, [PJO]

𝟷𝟷: 𝙰 𝙶𝚘𝚍 𝙳𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝙴𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝

"𝙾𝚑 𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜, 𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝,
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕'𝚜 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚜,
𝙾𝚘𝚑, 𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝,
𝙼𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎,"

───» Curses, The Crane Wives «───

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When Sage entered the thrown room, it felt like her brain turned off and she went onto autopilot. She could no longer control her body. 

It was a weird sensation, but it's not like this is the first time she's lost control. She would have been far more scared over the prospect if whatever was controlling her had bad intentions. 

Including today, Sage has lost control over her body three times.
The first time was when she was running from a drunk man in the streets of New York as a kid; she became a puppet on strings for her savior.
The second time was the fight she had before entering camp. That time however had been different, it was more like the entity was helping correct her movements over controlling everything, like the first time and her current situation.

Normally the weird things she experiences like this are when she's alone, so she's never had to worry about how others would perceive her joints freezing robotically. But based on how her peers are reacting, it might not be so bad to open up to people a little bit more.

She could see the hazy outline of Jason kneeling in front of her, that's how she found out she was on the floor.

On one hand, she was surprised that he would allow himself to show weakness like that when there is a god behind him, on the other hand? She's a bit grateful that he's showing concern like he is, and that Boreas is giving them a moment.

While the King's expression gives nothing but patience, his daughter, Khione, is the opposite.

"Father, they are wasting your time-"

"-Quite, Khione. Give the Vanir-Spawn time to adjust."

The fog cleared, the golden glow on her body waning while she struggled to sit up. "What... is a Vanir?"

Boreas smile remained, but he didn't respond.

Sages wobbled slightly, giving Jason, who helped her up, a wobbly smile. "Thanks."

While Jason held her left forearm, Piper was quick to grapple onto the cuff of her sleeve, a subtle sign of support.

"Are you three done yet? Father is-"

Sage rose a brow, eyes squinted. "Why are you speaking? Has anyone invited you to a conversation? I thought your father told you to give me  time to adjust?"

The snarl that left the beautiful girls mouth was nothing but vicious, the thoughts that were whirling around her head were clear.

Boreas' smile never faltered but his eyes remained steely. Once he had deemed they had enough time to adjust, he spoke again.

"Bienvenu," he greeted, his voice bouncing against the icy walls. "Je suis Boreas el Roi. Et vous?"

Welcome. I am Boreas, and you?