The Repeated History of the Heroes

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        The train ride was louder this time.  Issac had his head rested on the window waiting for the train to reach DC, if only it was quicker.  He needed to talk to Zoe, he needed to prepare her for the quest and he needed to figure out how to explain it to everyone else.  They had no time to do anything that needed to be done and according to Andy and his fucked up dreams Maddie's situation was getting worse.

      He hated the downtime.  He hated the fact that they were sitting on a train chatting instead of strategizing for what was to come.  He felt like they were trotting blindly into danger with no real plan or idea and one slight hinge of what was going on again.  Why did they always do this?  And why was Issac so shit at making plans?  He could never make a plan of action, he understood fighting.  He understood the need plan he knew formations and how to plan a fight.  Why was he that incompetent?  

     "Issac," Zoe slid in the seat across from him at the table, "Can you do me a favor?"

      "What?"

     She looked over her shoulder, "So your smartish, you've caught on to the fact that I'm doing this, right?"

      Unfortunately, "I'm gonna ignore that you only said I was smartish."

      She grinned, "Someone's gotta keep humble,"

       "I did figure it out, but we can break the rules.  You don't have to go alone."  

       "Oh yes I do."  she shifted in her seat, "You've been pouring over that prophecy, I know you know.  And we also know that rule breakers die."

      "You are a rule breaker,"

        "I don't break rules written by the orcal."

        He sighed, "I don't like this."

       "Well," she shrugged, "It is kind of terrible."

       She looked normal, like no one's life was on the line.  She was practically lounging in her seat, playing with the knife she had strapped to her thigh.  She had dark circles under her eyes with her glasses sitting low on her nose.  She was wearing a light pink jacket with the camp logo on it sliding off of her shoulders, it clearly wasn't her's.  She looked calm, she always did.  "How are you not freaking out?"

      She laughed, "I'm awesome and powerful," she shook her head, "But I am, just a little bit."

     "You are?" he had spent several days envying her calm.

     "Don't make me admit it again, Brain-Boy."  She looked down, "I'm not scared, this is just scary."

     He narrowed his eyes, "That didn't make much sense, Sparks."

     "Think harder," she slid out of her seat, "But also stop thinking and come be fun."

      Eh I'm Zoe and I can have fun while my life is being threatened, ugh I have purple hair and I'm falling in love, eh I'm so cool and he likes me back.  He threw his head back and promptly hit it a little too hard on the wall.  He was freaking out for many reasons.  When he closed his eyes it was spinning, even in darkness he could see the worst possible outcome.  He should listen to Zoe and come be fun, only that was seemingly impossible.  What was he gonna have fun with?  His existential dread?

      Paris slid into the seat next to him, she didn't say a thing.  She did that a lot, sitting in silence and drinking water.  She pushed her blonde hair behind her ear and looked straight ahead, she had loose beachy curls.  He of course had known that for years, but in the odd train lighting it looked like curled gold.  He had the urge to touch it, she glanced at him as if she had just noticed he was there.  "Hello,"