| A Bit of Direction [tag: Philotes] |
[13 Jul 2015|09:49pm] |
She was bracing for it. Styx was hoping the choice of a public venue would minimize the desire for it to happen, but it was likely inevitable, so, she was already bracing herself for it. There would be a hug, at least once. She would be called Styxie. It was likely to be a squeal, or a clap or something ridiculous once her request was made and... this date would be penned on a calendar.
All because she was actually going to ask a sibling for help, and not one of her fellow darker siblings either. No, the white sheep of the family. The bubbly, cuddly one who had brought the Olympian home for a few months there -or so it seemed, with her. ( One of her river brothers had joked that their sister had a pet Olympian and had come down to the Underworld asking their parents if she could keep it. )
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