[ at any other time, luke might actually respond with a don't worry, man. he's heard, first-hand, what shadow travel does to the poor kid. using an ability to the length nico had is exhausting — luke compares it to opening one hundred locks, one after the other. but considering his company and how tense, sore, and exhausted he is at the moment — and all he wants to do is crawl into his bed and perhaps die there, but there's no bed to be found, just cold, hard ground, and even more tension — it's safe to say luke's not in the best of moods. if he could sleep for a day, and perhaps not worry about clarisse's well-being or her taking off the moment his back is turned — or slipping her spear into his, as he knows she's still pissed at him — then maybe all would be fine. but nothing is ever fine, not when it comes to luke castellan. he hadn't even perked up, not even when the fairies had come and asked them of what he had desired as a reward for doing what he does best — stealing things. he'd been sarcastic and exhausted when he'd asked for the one thing that has plagued his mind for years, but he's never given voice to. ]
[ luke's not grinning, nor being his usual annoying self when he clicks away at his locket. ] See you in six months. If we don't get eaten by orcs or trolls or I don't kill myself because of La Rue. [ his mouth purses. ] ... Again.
[ he's not being fair and he knows it. but who else can he vent to? ]
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[ luke's not grinning, nor being his usual annoying self when he clicks away at his locket. ] See you in six months. If we don't get eaten by orcs or trolls or I don't kill myself because of La Rue. [ his mouth purses. ] ... Again.
[ he's not being fair and he knows it. but who else can he vent to? ]