Bonus Content - Pyri POV

Hey everyone!

This month's bonus content is from the end of FoA—in this case, from the "no sequel" end of FoA, where the PC (in this case, a Persephone), elects to stay behind on Olympus full-time. What follows is Pyri's version of the conversation that follows that discussion, and the last time they ever see one another in person.

I hope you enjoy it, in the way angst can be enjoyed!

-----------------------------

By the time Persephone meets back up with Pyri, the crowd has notably thinned. In the end, even something this big doesn’t seem to matter much, to anyone on Olympus. Or maybe it just seems that way because they all knew what Pyri didn’t: how it was going to end.

They ignore the staring—there’s a lot of it, and it isn’t comfortable, but it’s mostly not directed at someone as insignificant as them—putting one foot in front of the other as steadily as they can to approach her. She’s patting her hands against her tunic, maybe nervously, maybe not. Pyri thought they had good guesses when it came to her, but considering how this all worked out… well, that’s obviously not how things really were.

They part from the group with a short nod to Hades, who leads the others away to a not-eavesdropping distance. Pyri only sort of gets it; they know that more than one other person is surprised and saddened by the decision Persephone made. Maybe they’re just all better at keeping it to themselves. Not that Pyri even knows what they should keep to themself and what they should say. But… if someone cared about them, they’d want to know.

Once they stop, she does, too, offering a small smile.

They try to do the same, but the best they manage is some kind of awkward grimace, and it feels terrible to keep trying, so it’s a short effort.

"So…" They shuffle their feet a bit, scuffing their nicest sandals in the dirt. There’s an order to this. Most important things first, right? "A lot just happened. You're okay, right? Not like… freaking out or anything?"

They look up from their feet and towards her, and her lips crimp in… thoughtfulness? Awkwardness? Something else altogether? Second guessing all these things is already exhausting.

"Are you?" The words come out a bit tentatively.

Are they? Pyri knows, on some level, that they will be okay. They were okay before her. They have a good life, a life worth living, with friends that make the hard times feel worthwhile. But…

Their expression crumples for a moment, caught between too many things. How can she even ask, really? How can she not know how they feel about this? Had they just… had they never made it clear enough how much they like her?

"I mean, I don't know. I just…" Pyri reaches up to rub at the nape of their neck, the words leaving them only with great difficulty. It feels like they have to scrape each one out of their chest through their throat, like they’re choking on the size of it all.

"Maybe I should have expected this," they mutter, almost more to themself than you. "But I didn't. Not even a little bit." It wasn’t like she’d ever said she wanted to go back home. Ever acted like it. Was that all it had been? Acting?

"And it sucks, Persephone, but I… just. Why did you do it? Why did you choose Olympus?"

They can hear her pull in a breath, like her answer’s ready but she’s not so sure she wants to come out with it. She does, though, to her credit. Not like there’s anything not to credit her for in the first place. "I did it because... it was the only way to stop all this back and forth. If I had tried anything else, I could be used against you, and I didn't want that."

"What?" Pyri replies, flummoxed. Whatever emotions were building in them. Whatever they were trying to get to with all this, is swept aside for the confusion, and then for something more like regret.

"Why would you do that?” They ask, voice cracking softly over the words. “Don't you think we could handle anything they throw at us? Don't you think we would have, for you? We would have! Happily!"

Flinching, they drop their tone back to a more reasonable volume, chest tight. They have to try to think about this from her perspective. They have to be understanding. "I… I get it. I would want to protect my friends, too. But, Persephone… we'd never want you to sacrifice what you want just to keep the dumb thunder lord from being mad or whatever. I wish… I wish I could have told you that, before now. I wish I'd figured out that I should."

Wasn’t there some way to take it all back? Maybe… maybe Boss could… but no, he wouldn’t. This was of her own free will. Or it was Fate. Either way, he wouldn’t be able to wind it back without… without a lot of problems a lot worse than the ones Persephone was trying to protect them from.

I just…" Pyri expels a breath in a frustrated sigh, scrubbing their hands up and down their face. "I'm having a hard time here, Persephone. I thought everything was going to be fine. That we'd all get to go home and have a laugh about this later, you know? And now it's 'we'll send your annulment paperwork' and 'do you want your stuff sent back to you' and I don't ever get to see you again." They drop their hands, eyes meeting hers in… what? Some kind of vain hope she’ll deny it? What is there to deny? She hadn’t been ambiguous in the least.

"It… hurts. A lot."

They know they always said they’d respect her choice, and they do. They really do. It’s just… they’re allowed to hurt, right? Anyone’s allowed to hurt, when they lose someone they care about. Letters just aren’t going to be the same, even if she does write them.

It feels like something in their chest is collapsing.

"I know. It hurts me, too." The look on her face—the way her mouth pulls, the strain around her bright green eyes—is convincing, even right now, when they don’t feel like they have a sense of her anymore. She is hurting. This isn’t something she says just to make them feel better. And yet...

Pyri swallows past the thick lump in their throat. "Would it really have been so hard?" they ask. "To trust us? To believe that we could protect you?" They shake their head, hard enough that it feels a bit like something rattles. That’s not fair of them. "No—don't answer that. I don't want to know. I already do, I guess."

"Pyri… I never meant to hurt you with this." She half-reaches out, as though to touch them, but they already know it won’t connect. She doesn’t touch anyone, and they’ve made sure they learned it well, so that they don’t make her uncomfortable.

A bit of a moot point, now.

"I know." They hold their hands against the sides of their neck, fingers laced behind. They can’t reach out. They mustn’t. "I think that makes it worse somehow. But… never mind that. I'm not actually here to complain to you.” What they actually want only comes to them right then, but it’s firm with certainty, even when nothing else is. Like it’s something they’ve been carrying with them much longer than this.

“I wanted… I wanted to tell you good luck. And that I hope no matter what happens, you're happy, you know? I want that for you." They smile, and even though it's a bit shaky at the edges, it manages to feel better than the last one. More like they mean it.

"…thank you." Persephone looks a bit lost, but also a bit like maybe she has other things to be doing. Because she would. She has a whole life, here. Family. Things to… things to be, things to do, people to love and be loved by.

And them, well… everyone always leaves, in the end. They don’t know how they know that, but they do.

Pyri takes a step backwards, and then another, taking one of their hands away from the other and giving Persephone a slightly-awkward wave.

On the third, they finally turn, heading over towards the others. They look back, only once, and hurriedly face forward again when they do. They don’t really know much about what happens after that. Later, they remember meeting Hestia, and thinking maybe in other circumstances that would have been really neat. They don’t remember anything she says. Or anything they say. Or anything the others might have said to them.

There probably were some things. But in the end, it doesn’t much matter.

They just have to keep moving forward, no matter what.