⋆⁺₊⋆.˚ | 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄
━━━━ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐋𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐔𝐒
𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄, her guidance wove a thread of life, pulling him from the abyss where destiny had cast him.
❝ who are you to think you can walk a...
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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐘 (𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏) down bad ( taylor swift )
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*
𝐋𝐄𝐎
THE WAY I FIGURED IT, I spent more time crashing than I did flying.
If there were a rewards card for frequent crashers, I'd be, like, double platinum level. I regained consciousness as I was free-falling through the clouds. I had a hazy memory of Khione taunting me right before I got shot into the sky. I hadn't actually seen her, but I could never forget that snow witch's voice. I had no idea how long I'd been gaining altitude, but at some point I must have passed out from the cold and the lack of oxygen. Now I was on my way down, heading for my biggest crash ever.
The clouds parted around me. I saw the glittering sea far, far below. No sign of the Argo II. No sign of any coastline, familiar or otherwise, except for one tiny island at the horizon.
I couldn't fly. I had a couple of minutes at most before I'd hit the water and go ker-splat.
I decided he didn't like that ending to the Epic Ballad of Leo.
I was still clutching the Archimedes sphere, which didn't surprise me. Unconscious or not, I would never let go of my most valuable possession. With a little manoeuvring, I managed to pull some duct tape from my tool belt and strap the sphere to my chest. That made me look like a low-budget Iron Man, but at least I had both hands free. I started to work, furiously tinkering with the sphere, pulling out anything I thought would help from my magic tool belt: a drop cloth, metal extenders, some string and grommets.
Working while falling was almost impossible. The wind roared in my ears. It kept ripping tools, screws and canvas out of my hands, but finally I constructed a makeshift frame. I popped open a hatch on the sphere, teased out two wires and connected them to my crossbar.
How long until I hit the water? Maybe a minute? I turned the sphere's control dial, and it whirred into action. More bronze wires shot from the orb, intuitively sensing what I needed. Cords laced up the canvas drop cloth. The frame began to expand on its own. I pulled out a can of kerosene and a rubber tube and lashed them to the thirsty new engine that the orb was helping me assemble.
Finally I made myself a rope halter and shifted so that the X-frame was attached to my back. The sea got closer and closer–a glittering expanse of slap-you-in-the-face death.
I yelled in defiance and punched the sphere's override switch.
The engine coughed to life. The makeshift rotor turned. The canvas blades spun, but much too slowly. My head was pointed straight down at the sea–maybe thirty seconds to impact.
