when you fall asleep || paras

Tiberius Winters

The day was bright and promising. Sun shined through the windows of the Aphrodite cabin leader's windows elegantly, giving the room a iridescent glow of softness and angelicness. Everything was nice and orderly inside the medium sized living space; though it was smaller than the rest of the rooms, but that was only because one person lived in that room. That explained why it was decorated so oddly, with light grey walls that had inky black swirls climbing up like ivy did on wooden trellises on a late summers day. The bed was perfectly made, not a crease in the white comforter or a fold of fabric out of place on the sleek black pillows that occupied the top of the magnificent head bored. The boy who resided inside the room made sure it vocalized his love for the victorian era of London, and everything was old and antique and it had somewhat of a modern twist, but beautiful nonetheless. After all, the son of Aphrodite did have a knack for interior design. Days before, the only messy thing about the room would have been the desk, which looked like the proper workings of a madman. Papers had scattered the surface of the white table, which really looked like forever frozen ice, and it felt that way too for the wind that blew in through the windows made the room unbelievably cold. There was a method to the madness on the desk, as the papers were about important stuff like cabin rosters and permission slips and stuff like that. There was a lot of work to be done on the madman's desk, but the boy wasn't scribbling hurriedly with the raven's quill and jar of ink like he would be most days. 

Now, however, the contrast between days before and today was stark and scary. Books littered the floor, thrown carelessly around like a rag doll, some papers torn and ripped, but Tiberius Winters could care less about them. He didn't care about anything now, really. Ice had taken over his heart again, piercing his veins with coldness that made him immune to feelings. It was all Quinn's fault that he was like this, and so therefore Tiberius felt anger rushing to him like a wave overtaking a ship. At first, he was sorrowful because he thought it was his fault that they were in a fight. The first morning that Ty realized he had screwed up majorly was one of the worst. Tibs had spent that day destroying his most prized possessions and tearing down his room piece by elegant piece, distributing the things he felt inside to the outside, sharing his anger and sadness with the things he had once cherished before Quinn came into his life and messed it all up. Quinn was like a tornado to Tiberius, she came in and blew down his defenses like he was a mere wooden house that was no match for her force. He let her, how could he not? Even though Quinn wasn't a daughter of Aphrodite, Ty thought she was unconventionally beautiful. 

After the books came the chess board, and that was strewn across the room as well, the wooden pieces scattered under the desk and bed. Only the knight on the black side was spared, as was tge queen on the white side. But it wasn't because Tibs wanted to keep them. He put the ivory colored queen on the nightstand. He knew Quinn was stronger than he, as a queen had to be in times of need and desperation. But as for the knight, Tiberius did nothing to it. For a long time, he just sat on the bed, staring into it's ebony depth, trying to sort out his life. Thinking didn't help at all, because his thoughts all trailed back to Quinn. Almost every memory that Tiberius had at camp was with Quinn. And so, in his rage (for the demigod was never really good at any emotion, except for maybe love, and he was still rubbish at that) Tiberius Winters snapped the dark wood of the knight in half, and he relished the crack the wood made as it split in two. After putting the broken pieces on the nightstand, Ty just put his head in his hands and sat there. For the longest time he didn't say anything or do anything. Internally, he was screaming. Screaming at his stupid mind, screaming at Quinn for not being the person he knew she could be, screaming for help. 

That ordeal was two and a half days ago, and nothing had really changed since then. Once or twice a camper came to knock on the door of Ty's room, but they were quickly dismissed as he boy inside snapped at them. He didn't mean to snap, honest he didn't. He just didn't know what else to do. Quinn was his compass, his advisor, his everything, and with her gone from his life Tibs couldn't grasp the simplest of things. He wasn't a people person, he was a boy out of his time. In those 48 hours, Tiberius took two freezing showers. Warmth would melt his heart, and it was one of the reasons why everything about him was cold, even his room. Ty's personality had changed as well, ever since that day in the cabin courtyard. It had made him the original Tiberius Winters again, complete with old sentences that no one said anymore. But he hardly every talked anymore. Who was there to talk too? There would've been Quinn, but that relationship was dead and gone. Tibs should have known his time with Quinn Taylors was limited, he just didn't imagine it could be so soon.

Now he laid on his bed, curled up into a ball, unthinking and unfeeling. His eyes were grey again, but they weren't a melted silver kind of grey that held all sorts of light and joyfulness anymore. They were gunmetal grey, so dark the irises were almost the same shade as the pupil. The color held hate and sadness and anger in them, and it was a scary look on him. For once, this was something Tiberius could not make look good, no matter how many times he tried to fool himself. Turned out, fooling himself about anything was pointless, reality was just too harsh to ignore. If he spoke, Ty probably wouldn't know the sound of his voice anymore, for he had ceased speaking since that fateful day. There wasn't anything he had to say to anyone besides Quinn, and the chances of them talking again were slim to none. Even if they did, Tibs probably would chicken out, but in his head he had perfected a speech. Quinn, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm the biggest idiot you will ever have the chance to meet and I'm sorry for royally screwing up our chances to be whatever we are. It was short, sweet, and to the point, much like the boy who created it. Nothing would ever be the same for Tiberius, the ice wouldn't allow for it.

Casimir Young

February 5th, 2007 

Casimir James Young sat on the roof of his shabby home in Denver Colorado. This was really the only time he could get to be alone, without his siblings teasing him or his twin bothering him to the point of annoyance. It was incredibly peaceful, being alone with no one to talk too. Cas enjoyed every single second of it. Nothing was good or right in his little world, and that was okay with him. Cas understood that not everything could go the way someone wanted or wished to be. For instance, he himself would like a nice cottage in the wilderness far away from any city so that the stars were undamaged and unshielded because of pollution. Clearly that wouldn't happen. It wasn't fates design to have Casimir live a happy life, and he'd realised that as soon as Tessa was born. His mother had stopped noticing her son, who was vying for attention amongst his other siblings. Cas wasn't the strongest of his kin, quite the contrary; he was the weakest link. Even his name didn't fit in with the rest of the group. His mom had named them all after angels. Michael, Hael, Tessa, month old Zachariah, and his goddamn twin Ezra. They all got glorious heavenly names. What did Casimir get? A name that meant 'Destroyer of Peace'. With his mom looking down with contempt at her son and with no friends to help him through hard times and tough choices, Cas started to think he was exactly that. 

It probably wasn't very wise to be sitting up on a caving in roof in the middle of winter, but Cas didn't care if he got sick or froze to death. If he went back down to the house there would just be fights and taunts, and he couldn't handle that right now. Cas needed to be happy for tomorrow, and so he would spend the night stargazing like he always did when he needed to cheer up. Tomorrow Casimir was going to ask his best friend, and really only friend in the whole wide world, Sophia to the middle school dance that was coming up. He hoped she would say yes, because Cas couldn't take rejection. Not from her too. The coldness of the air seeped in through the piles of blankets Casimir had brought up with him. Along with all the comforters, there was also a flashlight with extra batteries and some paper and pencils. Cas made sure that the paper and writing utensils were well protected in garbage bags against the snow and sleet and rainfall. Sometimes he liked to draw the stars. Of course, Michael always tore up his art once he found it, and he always found it. Michael was a rubbish big brother, destroying everything Casimir loved. 

However, there was one thing his older brother could destroy. The stars above him. Casimir's favorite thing in the entire world was space and galaxies. No matter how hard Michael could try, there would always be some way Cas could get his fix of the nighttime sky. It always seemed to calm him down, and this time was no exception. The worries and woes of the day melted away like the snow did in the brief summer here in Denver, Colorado. The happiness wouldn't last forever, of course, but Cas could pretend that it could if he stayed up here long enough, staring wistfully at the stars and planets above him. There was even a longing smile on his face tonight, something rarely seen on his pallid and beat up face. As of late, Cas had contracted countless scrapes and scratches, a black eye, a bruised jaw, and a busted lip. Yeah, it hurt, but he'd almost grown numb to the pain, although he knew that Ez and Sophia worried constantly about him. 

Casimir closed his eyes, an arctic wind blowing through his messy dark brown hair. "I pick..." He whispered, instinctively moving his pointer finger around the sky, scanning blindly at stars. "You." He opened his blue eyes once again, finding that he had chosen Sirius. He knew almost all the stars by name, and Sirius had been easy because it was so big and bright. "I will visit you, someday, Sirius." Cas promised the flaming giant thousands of light years away.

"Hey loser genes!" A voice called, it was Michael's, and Casimir knew it not by the way his brother refused to say the boy's actual, but how deep and gruff it was. "Get your ass down here!" Cas sighed, shutting his eyes tight before obeying, knowing that it wasn't time for dinner.

Tiberius Winters

Dearest sister,

I don't know where I am. I don't know where I am or who I am. Actually, I know where I am. The coordinates were simple enough to figure out. It is a place called 'Camp Half Blood' and it is full of savage people. People who kill for sport, people who brandish a knife like it's a recent book they read, people that are exactly the kind that father has tried to steer us away from. It is frightening, Lottie, to see such young people resort to such sadistic and ferocious ways. I wonder what will become of me here? I remember awakening on a cold metal table, and I will spare you the details as you are a lady, and ladies are fainthearted creatures. There was this young woman beside me, one of those savage campers. She wasn’t any help, and I took a strong disliking towards her.

I would like to come home, very much so. At home I’m with you and I know that you are safe and away from harm. Here it is not uncommon to hear of such things as death, and the people here are numb to the screams of the dying. I am scared, Lottie, I do not know what will become of me. Will I turn into one of these savages? I certainly hope not, because then I would frighten you and that is the thing I want least in the world. However, father will not permit me to come home, he has banished me from the house. Why? What have I done as a son to disappoint my father? I have many questions, little sister, and they have yet to be answered. The wild girl with sunlight in her hair refuses to talk to me, and I don’t want to talk to her either. She’s disrespected me and I hate to say it, because it is not right to say this but I feel unadulterated hatred for her.

It is strange though, because when I woke up today there was a cat in my room. It was a small cat, and it was very, very beautiful. I would have kept it except it probably belongs to a person, and that person is very lucky to have such a wonderful cat. It had a note tied to the collar, and naturally I read it, as it was addressed to me. I can only assume that somebody has wished to remain secret while sending this to me, because there was no name for the sender. The letter said that the cat’s name was Susan, and other things that I won’t tell you. You are young, Lottie, your are innocent. I hope to keep you that way for as long as possible. The parchment itself smelled nice, it was lightly fragrant and it almost resurfaced a memory. For just a moment I blacked out, and I remembered a girl’s laugh, the sharp snip of scissors, the feel of something being lightened, a boy’s scream - I think it was my own. I don’t know what that meant, but when I awoke the cat had fled, and I had the letter in my arms. I ripped it up and screamed, mad with frustration and desire to know what has happened to me these past few months. I need to know, Charlotte, I long to know…

From what I have come to understand in such a place as this is that I’m special. You and I have always known it, though I have denied it for many years. Lottie, there is a reason why I can speak french fluently and you cannot. There is a reason why I look nothing like you. There is a reason why I am here, trapped like a caged animal, and you are not. I’m the son of Aphrodite. It’s hard to deny it when I know it’s true. But I swear to you Lottie, I do not consider her my mother. She has never been there for me like our mother has. I’m still a Winters.

Apparently I must depart, for there is a problem I must attend to. It seems that I have acquired the leader of the cabin I live in, which makes me a big brother to a bigger family than ours. I don’t mind it because it fills the empty space in my heart that I feel because you are not with me. I miss you terribly, Charlotte, more than words can say, and I await the day when I am permitted to see your wonderful face again. People have assured me over and over again that you are safe, and I don’t want to believe their soft smiles and light eyes, but I do. What choice do I have, when the other alternative is picturing your body, bruised and bloodied and lifeless in my arms? I know you are alive Lottie, and I know you will get this letter.