𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐅𝐈𝐓 : 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂.
samson has experienced his fair share of eonia parties ( both the dramatics of the night and the hungover infirmary calls the day after ), and while he’s not opposed to attending, it takes some cajoling on @euceleste’s part ( with help from @euizak ) for him to agree to join their matching disney outfits — and give himself a night off.
the costume is simple : a white dress shirt with red fabric sewn around the waist, and a pair of blue trousers borrowed from the musical theatre department’s extensive wardrobe. he’s not aiming to win any competitions, opting for comfort over craftsmanship and to be the ( platonic ) prince eric to celeste’s ariel.
little does samson know that he wouldn’t be making it to the main party at all.
the trail looms foreboding ahead, mist swirling thickly around booted feet like vaporous snakes catching at his ankles. he’s already been a test for many of the hecate house’s charms in the run up to halloween, so there’s slight trepidation as eyes scan the paper in front that requires a signature were he to enter ; a joke of ‘ do i need to sign this in blood ? ’ is thrown @eusage’s way, not predicting that his visit to best friend would inevitably have him being one of the first to try out their creation.
but before he can step over trail’s boundary the sound of hooves interrupts their conversation ; for a moment, samson thinks the noise is coming from within the mist, but soon a familiar figure materialises from the direction of campus and his trepidation grows deeper. callan — a satyr usually found in camp athens and someone samson has come to know as a friend — approaches, out of breath with a face pinched with worry. the satyr barely waits for acknowledgement before speaking directly to him, his appearance soon understood as he tells samson of a quest gone wrong and the severity of the injuries sustained by those that undertook it.
it’s aaron’s name that draws all blood from his face, dots connecting with callous clarity as to the dreams that had plagued his nights for the past week. aaron — his half-brother, barely 16, who he’d met on a placement in camp athens 4 years prior — was clinging to life by a thread, his own healing powers preventing the basilisk venom from being immediately fatal. but it was a race against time to save him, so samson leaves immediately with callan, a promise to keep in contact with sage when he can his farewell.
—
39 hours pass before aaron finally stabilises, all of the children of apollo in camp athens and those samson was able to summon from eonia on his way from campus doing everything in their power to prevent his death. samson doesn’t sleep ; he uses the time he’s forced to take a break to do something he never feels the need to do outside of self-written hymns, the bond with his father ever complicated. he prays for apollo’s help as the sun’s light brightens the horizon the day after halloween, and again when it sets, but the sky yields no response despite the rawness of emotion, his words unanswered.
by the time he’s sent back to eonia days later ( under strict orders to recuperate for a week, professors and polaris managers notified to ensure his compliance ) there’s an ever-present bitterness he can’t shake at his father for his enduring absence that curdles, resentful, like sour milk in the pit of his stomach. the apollo infirmary is closed — has been since the night of halloween, and will be until his forced recuperation is up — so he channels his emotions in other ways, withdrawing from friends and family alike to the sanctuary of archery range, dance studio and treetop obstacle course in order to vent his frustrations.
a healer that never heeds his own advice, rest is the last thing on his mind.
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