Less Food Please [Charlie]

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Mercury. That child always had a way of piquing his interests, even when Mors went through such elaborate loops to make it seem as though he had none. Gunnar was gone from this city, loosing a loved one falls heavy on all of his children and grandchildren. Honestly he blamed himself for it. He was one to fall deeply into the pit of emotional turmoil mortals called love. It pained him greatly, and he knew it pained those around him. Lilith was so tender hearted, yet attempted to be strong because of those who might worry for her. Evelyn, his poor sweet little flower. Why did she attempt to sway his attentions so? Perhaps if he never ventured so near his family, so near this camp and it's inhabitants, his loved ones might suffer a bit less than they had. It was not all so selfish. Mors knew himself well. It hurt him, and he knew how to make the hurt stop. Bury himself in work. Think of nothing but work. It left no time to think about the heavy lump of asphault forming in his chest.

The tea here was exquisite, despite his initial protests, as was the plate of food that had been provided. Servings far too large for his appetite, as normal for his friend to provide for him. The tiny asian woman seemed just Mercury's type as well, with her comments of him being too skinny and needing to eat more. Albeit she was much older, perhaps with grandchildren in the legion. An extra serving of dumplings came to his table, seated under a slotted wooden awning just to the side of the main road. Honestly, he hadn't even finished this strange noodle dish she had placed in front of him. Mors gave an exasperated sigh, which seemed to startle the waiter even more than his cold ivory face might normally unnerve. “I do not require more nourishment. Please let your host know.” The young man nodded quickly and scurried away from the cold dead eyes of a god.

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Charlie had been oh so tired. It was to the point her head pounded like a war drum and it was starting to make her feel sick to her stomach. To start with, she should probably eat. She hadn't eaten anything for more than twenty four hours and she was starting to feel it. Her stomach gave an audible growl as she walked. But she had other things to do before she could think of herself. One of the new kids needed a decent sword so she had to stop by the forge, he needed something different from the one in the armory. She had to pick up some food for Ronan, promising to pick up his usual order since he was up to his neck in paperwork again. How that big lug managed to not be covered in paper cuts was beyond her. Then she had to train. Training was important. There had been so much that happened that she just couldn't let go. There were so many things that were wrong with her, so many things that she had to do to make everything alright in her mind. Everything wrong with her world started with her. It was her. She needed to change herself.

Finally, Charlie gave in to the growling stomach, moving towards one of her favorite shops. And then she froze, spotting someone familiar sitting outside the little restaurant. Charlie saw the exasperated male seemingly give the waiter a hard time, or at least that was what someone would think if they hadn't known the nearly white haired male. Mors. She hadn't seen him in months. He had just left her hanging there alone. Again it was a problem with her. All of her problems were her own fault. She didn't remember moving at all, her first thought was to turn and walk away, but for some reason she sat down at the table with him, in the chair opposite of him. "Hello Mors." She said. Though her voice was steady, her hands were trembling. She wouldn't be able to tell you if it was because she hadn't done anything other than train and forget to eat or if it was her nerves from this being the first time she had seen Mors in months.

Tags: @mors
Notes: Awkward
Words: 384

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Mors seemed to be in a rather popular place, no surprise given how perfect its placement was and the food served had been delicious. There were tastes to suit the american palate, however the majority of food served was truly authentic. They had a way to blend textures of food to a wonderful design that might be found in high class restaurants for exorbitant prices. With Mercury's aid those it seemed this restaurant retained the ability to have medium prices for extraordinary food. Despite the sight, scent, and hunger that ached mildly in his stomach, Mors had trouble bringing himself to eat. He did not play with his food, but ate slowly. Pushing food around the plate might make them believe the food was not good. Mors simply did not feel like eating.

“Greetings Charlotte.” His reply was stiff, the emotions he fought to bury surfaced again. Months for her had been a mere blink of his eyes, his time stretched over millennia. Memories fresh in his mind bubbled up past the barrier of work and exhaustion he had placed to keep them in check. The death of his twins. Children who hadn't even made it to Camp Jupiter yet. Their mother who blamed him. His stone face showed no sign of discomfort, only his eyes. He could never find how people could read a person by only their eyes, and had no idea how to stop it from showing. “You seem to be in poor health.” He said calmly, as though he were not a complete hypocrite.

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The smell of the food was enough to knock Charlie off her feet and into a chair. It wasn't a bad smell. No on the contrary it was so appetizing that she felt like Pavlov's dog. Her mouth was watering and her stomach growled, but she still had so much to do. This place was nothing short of amazing. Everything from the short little woman who had owned the resturant that tutted over how many people were too skinny and needed to eat more, to the smell of the oil, the bamboo that was slightly over grown but not too much so, it was a clean smell, even the breeze was nice. For the first time in what seemed like all month, it wasn't even raining. No fog was drifting in and there were no clouds over head threatening any sort of weather. If she had been at home, well or at least back where she was from, it would already be blistering hot and someone would have been drenched in sweat.

His tone was stiff and his eyes and face were cold. That someone was Mors, he was always so stoic and statuesque. His face was quite handsome but he looked so down, more so than usual. Then there was always that joke that he would work himself to death. And while he couldn't really die, he still needed help he needed someone to help take care of him. She missed him dearly. But what else was she supposed to do when he just vanished from her life like that? He had been the single most important thing in her life but everything was just so horrible. She had never felt so alone in her life. She didn't have friends. She just had Mors and then she didn't have that. "And you're in poor health too. Just because you're a god doesn't mean you can starve yourself." She stated as she pushed the plate of Gyoza towards him. She gave a stern look at Mors.

Words: 337
Tags: @mors
Notes: she wants to give him a hug.

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She was so stunningly beautiful. Her aura still seemed to make his icy heart crack with a beat in his chest. Then, all of a sudden, he say her face contorted with pain and anger. Her shrill cry of anguish as someone dear to her was cradled. Though he could not see whom, he knew. Every muscle tightened, and it took his eternity of trained discipline to not jump back from the vision. To focus his eyes again on the present, not on a future that wouldn't happen. A past that had already been long enough ago to not matter. It shouldn't matter. His job would be done, and that was all that there was to it. It needed to be done, and he needed to remain neutral. Unfavoring, even for his own children. Other gods where not given such a power to rescue every child they had, and most certainly mortals where not given the choice. It would be too unfair.

He plucked a dumpling from the tray, eating it with a bit of the sauce they provided. "I have a large plate of noodles to finish as well. You may have any of the food at the table" Not only was there a plate of dumplings, but a small bowl of soup, two plump egg rolls, and a large plate of flat noodles. Everything seemed to still waft steam from their heat, and with a scent that might drive a man to eat it table and all.

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There were times that Charlie wanted to just slug the living daylights out of Mors, but even though he had frustrated her and irritated and made her more mad then anyone else in the world, Mors also was someone who brought out the best of her. She studied him, watched him intently as she sat down. There were a thousand emotions that ran through her mind as she watched him. She wanted to hold him tightly, to hug him and smell him once more. But she kept from touching him, from getting him the hug he deserved. She knew that when the time came, he would take her too. She was never afraid of him, never afraid of dying. But when she could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for her. And here he was, after such a relationship, she could never forget death. He was someone that was always going to be an old friend.

"You want to tell me what's up? And something's wrong. Don't try to hide it." Charlie worried about him more than she worried about herself. Even though they were no longer together, she wanted to make sure he was alright. Her eyes watched him like a hawk, someone who had been used to watching people intently, studying them and watching their every move. Mors was different, there were things that other people did that the gods didn't do. Like breathing and they had no real need to eat. They mostly did those sorts of things to keep people feeling comfortable around them. "I want you to tell me what's wrong. you look... more cold than usual." She stated.

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Of course one would think there was something wrong after an uncharacteristic break, however he felt this was far more characteristic than what he was while with Charlotte. Not simply her, but with everyone. Engaging Edmund in a conversation on the roof one night, visiting his family and inviting them to his home. The Christmas parties. Birthday presents, and warm hugs. These did not suit death, and if he where not so disinclined to show emotion he might show disappointment in the idea. The idea of him heartless. How gods should not interact with children so loosely, that bad things happen. How interacting with mortals was problematic, at best. That death was to be neutral, even to family.

"Nothing is wrong. The time I spent here was merely a holiday and I had my fill of entertainment." Mors did not need to eat, he was a god after all. He also did not require sleep, though his brother felt that very idea was incorrect. It would not kill him, nothing would kill him. Only weaken him, and he had allowed himself to be weakened greatly. Between the lack of rest and the lack of sustenance, only a tiny bit of ambrosia he kept tucked away to keep him from failing his duties completely. After all if he was weakened and a demigod sought to resist dying, the might win. "I have always been cold."