For the first time in a very long while, I woke feeling content. Or, well, more content than I had. I knew I'd had dreams, but I couldn't remember them for once, and they hadn't been as intense as they'd tended to be since I'd been banished. Maybe that was just being in the vicinity of the shrine? Kind of ironic as I remembered my dreams being worse than normal when we'd slept near the shrine the first time we'd been through. Or maybe it was being able to actually eat good food that wasn't a monster's remains. Or maybe it was because my lungs didn't hurt quite so badly. I still had to take a swig from my still-warm canteen of Phlegethon water, but I could feel definite improvement.

Yet again, I seriously reconsidered relocating to said shrine and just find some way to deal with the lack of visibility or defense somehow. But the idea of having to trek to the Phlegethon every couple of days and potentially leading Giants or Titans back here so they could destroy my one connection with the surface… No, I wasn't willing to put that at more risk than necessary.

I spent that day at the shrine sending messages back and forth, mainly about little things. It felt good to joke again—to really let my sarcastic side out. I hadn't realized just how much I'd missed being able to do that with no one remotely friendly around. I'd even backed off on the snarking with any intelligent monster, giant or Titan that came to see me. Maybe I should fix that. (I wouldn't be stupid enough to do that with Tartarus… at least not much. I wasn't suicidal.)

I also spent the day eating good food. I almost cried (again) when I tasted the camp strawberries they sent me. While I sat there at the shrine, using half of my box of matches just sending notes back and forth, I also tried to keep two bubbles of water afloat while shaping them. I'd tried heating them to some success, but wasn't sure how useful it would be before they evaporated. Freezing worked better, obviously. Could I make a fridge out of ice? Huh… not a bad idea. I could make the food last a bit longer then, I supposed… assuming this food actually broke down instead of disintegrating. Was that just monster meat, though? I'd keep an eye on it.

Meanwhile, some people sent me suggestions for what I should do with my powers. Clarisse suggested some sort of water armor. At first, I dismissed the thought—how could that be useful at all? But then Annabeth said she liked the idea if I could harden it to a point where nothing could pierce it while having it maintain its shape (could I do that?). In addition, she said, I would always be covered in water and I would always have a readily accessible water/power source.

After that, I summoned some water and tried it immediately. It was kind of funny that the control needed to make the water keep its shape was tiring, but having the water constantly near me seemed to negate that, if I didn't focus on keeping the water hard like armor. If I did, it definitely drained me faster than it replenished me. Honestly, though, I was fine with that. It would be a good exercise to help me hone my control and hopefully build up my abilities. If using godly abilities was something I could build like muscle. Although Annabeth seemed to think it was as she had suggested it, so that was good enough for me to keep trying.

I stayed at the shrine until my Phlegethon water ran out. Once I had to leave, I would avoid the shrine as much as I could. During the time I was there, though, I practiced. I would summon water and hold it aloft as often as possible, practice raising or cooling the temperature, and changing its shape. Annabeth suggested that once I was comfortable with that, I could make the water grow in size or make it keep a shape all day. I only got close to being that good at the end of the week when I noticed that I wasn't feeling nearly as tired from using my divine abilities as before.

No monsters attacked me after the hellhounds, and I couldn't help but be grateful for that, even if I was a little annoyed that the monster meat went to waste. Still, a little peace in The Pit was not easy to come by, so I reveled in the respite it gave me. By the end of my stay at the shrine, I'd gotten to a point where I could travel on a thin disk of water for a little while through the air. It was exhilarating. I could also hold onto the shape of my water armor for about an hour while making it dense enough to be hard. I could hold it for almost four without it being hard.

I knew my abilities wouldn't take me through the Dark Lands safely, though maybe over it? So I had a choice to make: continue on and find Damasen's swamp or head back to the cave I'd claimed as base camp. In the end, I realized I just didn't have enough practice with the new ideas I'd been working on and decided to head back to base. I let everyone know before I left and they sent me more food I couldn't carry and notes of best wishes and jokes.

I kept each of them tucked inside Nico's book.

Then I set back out for the Phlegethon, still visible in the distance once I crested the ridge hiding the shrine from the view of it. It was the single hardest thing I'd had to do since I'd come but if I didn't set out, I'd run out of the river's healing water and I'd have to rely on my Ambrosia stash. I needed to save that for emergencies, and so I had to force myself to walk away. I looked back more than once.

It took me most of the day to get there (it hadn't seemed that long before… had the land moved again?) and once there I refilled my canteen before taking a sip. It was still disgusting and burning so hot it felt cold, as always, but it took care of the budding blisters on my skin that had become more of a nuisance than anything else. A painful nuisance, but still.

Then I decided to take one of Annabeth's suggestions to heart and walked out onto the Phlegethon, smack in the middle. Not only would it save me from having to fight most monsters, but it would be a good endurance exercise, too. If I found it too easy, I could bring out one of my sea-water bottles and work on keeping that floating at the same time. Or more if I got really advanced.

It was hilarious to watch various monsters—dracona, empousi, hellhounds… among others—catch sight of and start towards me, then look down at the Phlegethon… then back up at me, then down at the Phlegethon again, just like the giants had. After that, I saw varying expressions of awe, shock, fear, disappointment and utter puzzlement before most of them would decide to look for other prey. The stupid ones that started following me got a face-full of superheated Phlegethon until they died.

That was more satisfying than it probably should be.

I traveled like that for two days, resting in secluded areas on the bank, before I recognized the general area and found my cave again. It, too, seemed like it had moved farther away than what I remembered, but that was really to be expected by this point.

My life fell back into my previous routine very quickly, except this time with soap, toothbrushes, toothpaste, towels and real food. It was surprising how much those amenities made my life in Tartarus more bearable. Especially the food. I thoroughly enjoyed eating real bread and fruit and then the packaged goods. I did make an icebox. It worked surprisingly well.

The first thing I did when I got back, though, was check everything I'd left. Nothing had really invaded my cave, but apparently a storm or something had passed by as my pool of salt-water had been poisoned. That was the biggest casualty of my absence, but it was also the one I resented the most. That didn't help my mood as the very air of Tartarus fed my anger, so I squashed it down as best I could and focused on fixing the problem. I spent the next couple of days separating the poison from the pool to a point where I felt safe going back inside it. Perhaps I could ask camp to ask my father for a sand dollar? That should keep the pool clean, right? Would sending me one via the shrine even work? Was that too much to ask?

(After all, it seemed to be too much to ask to be treated fairly after literally saving the gods' collective… well, everything at least twice.)

I was not looking forward to when I would run out of food and I'd have to go back to eating monsters. Maybe I could ask for spices or something the next time I went to the shrine in a month or so? It was the soonest I dared.

Meanwhile, I trained and fought.

It was frustrating to go back to fighting monsters so regularly, but at least most of them didn't stand a chance against me, especially with my new trick of superheating the Phlegathon. I still got into my fair share of fights, but found myself getting fewer and fewer wounds from them. Definitely not something I'd complain about.

I tried to keep my water bubbles floating around me throughout the day no matter what else I had to do. Unsurprisingly, I found it most difficult to float water when I fought. It took too much concentration at first to use them to defend myself, but I tried to maintain all sorts of shapes or keep them dense-hard anyway. I could superheat the water or freeze it while fighting, but while freezing worked wonders, the regular water just didn't work as well for heat as when I used the Phlegethon. Shocker, I know.

The water-spike wall worked better than I thought it would, though only if I was far enough away from attacking monsters to be able to just concentrate on that. I could defend myself from flying creatures as well. I took out a large group of gryphons and a flock of carnivorous birds that decided I looked tasty like that. I'd collected the feathers for pillows, glad that they hadn't been metal.

Another one of my favorite attacks that I found fairly early on was to turn my seawater into little shards of ice and just rain them down over the monsters that attacked me—especially those that attacked en mass. It covered such a large area and did a lot of damage. I even tried the same trick with hard-water (instead of ice), just holding the shape of little knives without dropping the temperature. That worked better when it came to killing monsters, surprisingly, but took more concentration. I wasn't sure why, but whatever.

By the time a month (ish, Tartarus time) had passed, I was getting good at riding my little disk of water around. I still didn't dare go more than an hour's travel or so on it as it drained me enough to just drop me wherever I got too tired, but it was kind of exhilarating and definitely fun… as long as I didn't go too high (I was still a son of the sea, after all). I could also hold my hard-water armor for much longer, even while fighting, which I was very proud of.

The next time I went for the shrine, it took me two days and two nights walking along the Phlegethon before finding it early on the third day. It had moved again, go figure.

(I really hated Tartarus.)

I burnt a letter asking for more matches (even though I still didn't have any wood to burn) and a rack of spices so I could make the meat I had to eat during my (unjust) exile taste somewhat good. Then I asked for some ambrosia.

They happily sent spices and matches and more food (that I was more than grateful for and I sent them notes back saying as much), but apparently the ambrosia and nectar wouldn't be accepted as sacrifices as they came from the godly realm initially. Either that, or they couldn't be sent to Tartarus. Annabeth wasn't entirely sure which, but they'd tried before. That was, I supposed, the reason we didn't sacrifice ambrosia and nectar at camp.

I informed her of my progress with the various training I'd done. She seemed impressed by my 'water disk' and someone even suggested that I change it to a chariot or something, so it looked even cooler. I could also keep five separate bubbles of water of varying temperature floating around me all day, but the closer I got to sleeping, the less control I had over what shapes I could make the water take.

I told them about my 'knife shower' attack and someone wrote back to me saying I was a ninja and needed a name for it. Something 'no jutsu'. I snorted at that, not knowing the reference, but figuring it was from a Jackie Chan movie or something.

They had more cool ideas for me ranging from bending water so I could use the results as telescopes or microscopes, to flash-freezing monsters, and water golums.

I had to admit the idea of water golums made from the Phlegethon sounded epic and kind of terrifying.

Then Annabeth asked me if I knew why I hadn't run into any really big or nasty monsters since my banishment. I debated for several seconds on whether or not I should tell her about the drakon. In the end, I decided I didn't want to keep any secrets from her or the rest of the camp, even if it would turn them against me, and I hadn't had a chance to explain it to her in a dream so….

I told her everything, writing a very long letter about the drakon, Tartarus, Koios, Procrustes and the Laistrygonian giants. Then I told her about what they said, that they believed I was going to overthrow the gods too and I suspected that they wanted to get on my good side or encourage me to not leave them behind or something.

I also told her about what they said regarding me becoming a monster.

Then I asked her if it was true.

She didn't answer me for a long time.

When she did, she told me she didn't know if that was possible or not. There wasn't a lot about that from the myths, and she couldn't approach the gods. But she did promise she'd ask Nico, and he could ask his father, if I was okay with that. I was, and told her so, all the while wondering why she seemed to trust Hades more than the other gods. I mean, I had my reasons in the form of a Tartarus Care Package to keep me alive and somewhat sane down here, but as far as I knew, she and Hades didn't have any special rapport. Maybe because the God of the Dead had his own beef with the Olympians? Or maybe because he was just more consistent and predictable than other gods?

I didn't want to waste paper asking.

I did ask her to thank the god of the Underworld for giving me everything I had. The necklace hiding my scent, especially, as that was likely why I could sleep at all here.

She also told me she knew I was not going to overthrow the gods. She reiterated how she knew I'd never had such lofty ambitions and that was okay—part of why she loved me, actually. They would find a way to get me out of there without me going on the run, I just had to wait a little while.

That letter ended up having more than a few tear stains by the time I finished.

I stayed for another week, once again until my Phlegethon water ran out. At that point, I cursed the air of Tartarus and almost cried when I had to tear myself away from the safety of the place for a second time.

And I continued to go to the shrine once a month or so (as best as I could keep track of time). Sometimes it would be difficult to find, sometimes easy. Sometimes it would take me almost a week to get there, sometimes less than a day. It wasn't predictable at all, but as much as I hated how the very land twisted and turned on me (it made my maps very difficult to draw accurately), the general directions never changed. The river seemed to stay mostly the same, it always led in the direction of the shrine, the shrine stayed very near to the border of the Dark Lands, and thus it was something I could deal with. I even made note of it in Nico's book.

It took me four trips before I could use the water-chariot (that I'd taken to calling it… and shaping it) well enough that I trusted myself to try to attempt the Dark Lands. Annabeth congratulated me for coming up with the idea to go over the darkness instead of through it, but still warned me to be careful. I'd likely have to go either above the red clouds, or through them. She pointed out that I'd have to have something that would stop me from getting hurt and breathing in even more potentially toxic air. She recommended a bubble of water around my head, but warned me that I may still run out of oxygen if I chose to do that, or that the bubble might take on some of whatever made up the clouds. It was, as expected, good advice.

I promised I would be as cautious as I could be and was about to set off when one final fire on the altar caught my eye. I picked up the note from Annabeth and scanned it over one more time before groaning. It asked me how, if I was going to go find supplies, I would carry those supplies back through the Dark Lands on my own.

Naturally, I didn't know. The image of me dragging trees with water ropes crossed my mind and I could only sigh. That would be… difficult. Or I could wait another month and just bring some of the braided ropes I'd been able to make from my trophies. Ultimately, that was what helped me make my mind up. I informed Annabeth I'd return in a month after I'd practiced a little more and with the proper supplies to drag some trees back to my camp before heading off.

Walking on top of the Phlegethon was becoming easier and easier. Initially it had helped that when I would fall or stumble, I would get a very painful reminder of why losing concentration was a Very Bad Idea. my skin being that close to the water hurt, even if said water never actually touched me and thus didn't actually burn me. Now I could jog or outright run on top of the river if I concentrated. Annabeth had even given me the idea of just covering the soles of my feet with water and simply walking through the air. I liked the general chariot/car/elevator idea (I had plans for that one that looked cooler the more I thought on it) but also the image of me just walking into the air made me grin like the Joker. So that was what I did on my journey back to base that time. It was still kind of awesome to see the looks on the different monsters' faces as I passed by them either walking on or above the Phlegethon.

The day after I returned that fourth time, Procrustes came back. I didn't like the timing.

I pulled myself out of my pool again, thankful that the camp had been able to get ahold of a sand dollar and send it to me—it honestly made all the difference in the world, although why that could come through and not ambrosia, I had no idea—and went back towards my cave, towel hanging over my neck. I honestly reveled in just having one and was wondering how long it would last when I came up over the ridge that separated my pool from the Phlegethon. On the bank stood a familiar silhouette.

For a moment, I froze. Seeing anyone nearby had not been a good thing from the moment I'd been banished. Then I recognized who it was and angrily grabbed Riptide before stomping up to him.

"Just couldn't stay away, could you?"

The man (Part giant? Demigod? Monster?) turned around, yellow teeth even uglier than I remembered in the light of the lava-like river.

"Just checking up on my little brother."

"Don't. We're not family."

The man (monster, definitely a monster) put a hand over his heart as if my words caused him pain. "You hurt me, brother."

"I could fix that," I said with a warning smile, holding my sword up. "Put you out of your misery."

"Would you truly kill me again, little one?"

Okay, now he was just trying to get on my nerves. (It was working.) "Yes."

The monster's smile just widened. "Good answer."

I rolled my eyes. "Because I've always longed for your approval."

Procrustes snorted. "It's so amusing how much you try and reject us. You still think you've done nothing to be sent here."

"I know it."

The monster leaned a little closer. "Then why are you here?"

I just looked at him, deadpan. "Because Zeus is a coward so stuck on keeping his power that he can't see past his own fear… despite it being drilled into his thick skull multiple times by this point."

The taller being straightened, looking down at me in surprise. Then he burst out laughing. Not a cruel or condescending laugh, but a full-on guffaw, complete with snorts. I just stood there awkwardly, wondering what the monster found so funny about that. Not even Leo found my sense of humor that funny.

"Well said, brother," Procrustes said as he finally calmed down. "Too true, too true. He is supposed to be the god of justice even." Then he peered at me shrewdly. "So… any plans to maybe get revenge on him? Inklings? Wishes? Wants? Dreams…?"

My jaw clenched. "I'm not going to overthrow the gods. Especially not with the help of anyone down here. I know the gods aren't perfect. They have serious problems that I could go on about, but they're definitely the lesser of multiple evils. Unfortunately."

"Even if one of those options is you?"

That took me back and I closed my mouth with a clop. For several seconds, we just stood there, staring at each other as the river in the background hurried on, acting far more like water than anything that hot had a right to.

Then I burst into my own laughter. "Oh, you're serious? I'd be a terrible king of the gods," I finally said, amused at the idea and incredulous that the beings down here all seemed to buy into that kind of horse dung. "I mean, a leader in battle? Sure. Why not? A quest leader? Been there, done that. But anything larger than a platoon of soldiers?" I shook my head. "It's laughable how bad I'd do. I hate having to focus on the little details, and that's what I'd have to do to keep everything running. It's one reason why I gave up being a Preator in the Legion. Just… no."

With that, my laughter faded to chuckles. It felt good to laugh again.

I mentally prepared myself for a verbal battle, knowing the other wouldn't back down so easily. That was fine, though. I had no problem staying on this line of response all day. I would not overthrow the gods because yes, I'd be one of those 'evils' to choose from simply because I wouldn't be good at ruling like that.

Instead of looking like I had rained on his parade, Procrustes seemed happy to just sit there and study me, as if I was a puzzle he just couldn't figure out.

"But you know someone who would be good on the throne," he finally said.

That shut me up and I felt my face go blank because yes, I did know someone who would make an excellent leader of the gods. Annabeth would do really well, I had no doubt. Rayna. Frank. Heck, Jason would have been good too… but I quickly stopped myself from thinking along those lines.

"And yet, here you are, mortal and stuck down here… away from them."

"Yeah, and you'll help me get back to them, I'm sure. Out of the goodness of your heart?" I shot back, all levity gone. "Yeah, right. Let's say I did do what you all seem to want me to do and you didn't all dump me the moment I won your war for you, just to argue. Could you actually get me out of here before I grow so old I make the Crypt Keeper look young?" Although I doubted it would really be that difficult, if only because I had ideas to get out on my own. With my water chariot I might be able to do it—might have a chance at getting out the same way I got in… although over a week of water shape manipulation while riding on it… yeah, that would take a lot more time and practice. At least I was getting better. And there had to be ways monsters got back to the surface too. I just didn't want to have anything to do with them.

"And let's say you do—or someone down here can and does. I doubt you could hide me from the gods even if I got out. With some of the methods you all seem to love, I'd have to be immortal, and somehow I don't think you can do that."

"Of course we can." Procrustes rolled his eyes. "What do you think becoming a monster does? Monsters are immortal in a sense. It's just one reason we're all convinced you'll be the child of the prophecy… again." That derailed me more than I wanted to admit, and his point made me a little sick, both because of what the comment entailed and the fact that everyone seemed to know my history so well. I couldn't seem to open my mouth to stop the other man from speaking, too. "And the best part? You were never destroyed by a mortal, so you won't even have a monster's weakness."

I felt as if my mouth had become a cave, with boulders as teeth; dry and dusty. "A… what?" I managed to croak out.

The monster shot me another eye roll then turned to pace casually along the river bank, back and forth. "How often have you found yourself fighting a monster you've heard of from the myths and histories? You think back and come up with a solution to defeat the monster that's remarkably similar. How convenient. It isn't like most monsters are sapient and can, you know, learn to work around those weaknesses, or that we haven't had thousands of years to do so against dozens of generations of supposed 'heroes'," he said the last phrase so mockingly, I was surprised he hadn't gagged. "Of course not. No, the old methods still work again and again and again while monsters struggle to fight against their weaknesses—to overcome them. More often than not, they fail.

"You see my point, I hope. You didn't strike me as particularly stupid. Reckless, maybe, but not stupid."

I did see it. And I wondered why no one had actually explained that to me before. Did anyone else know? I couldn't believe someone somewhere who wasn't a monster hadn't figured this out.

"And monsters have these weaknesses because… they were defeated by a mortal?" I asked, making sure I'd heard that right.

The sleazy man in his old-fashioned suit (that looked so out of place) shrugged. "There's some debate. Some monsters think it's because that weakness existed already and we are all simply born with a weakness. But most of us—myself included, as I wasn't born a monster—" in my opinion, that could be debated—"consider it a curse, probably placed on us by the gods the first time we were killed and sent down here, even though no one seems to know who. Is it any wonder why we hate them so much?"

I remembered tricking and trapping Procrustes on one of his beds on my very first quest… just like in the myth I'd looked up later.

"Like I said, they're not perfect," I said slowly.

"They deserve pain! We deserve justice!" Procrustes hissed, stepping forward into my space. I didn't back down, but I wanted to. The man loomed over me like Shaquille O'Niel over… well, just about anyone else. I didn't want him to know how intimidating it was.

"Maybe," I conceded quietly, "but why should I be the one to hand out judgment? I'm just a demigod. Why does everyone think I should be some sort of judge, jury and executioner?"

The other man shrugged and eased back a little. "You were prophesied. And I think it's because you don't have the curse the rest of us monsters do."

"Yet. Unless you think I…" I paused, hating what I was about to say next as it acknowledged what might actually happen, and that made me want to throw up even more, "wouldn't develop one? I have plenty of regular mortal weaknesses." Too many. Most of them had names and faces of their own and I was fine with that—pleased even—and wouldn't give any of my friends or family up for the world… as my presence in Tartarus proved. They could be strengths too—had been while I'd been down here all too often—but that was, in my opinion, beside the point.

The monsters anger had faded into something supremely amused, which twisted his face in ways that reminded me of old bark on ancient trees. Except without the leaves. The guy really needed a wig.

"But your 'weaknesses' stem from something far different. It'll put you on another level," Procrustes said that last part grudgingly. "Like with the Titans and Giants and greater monsters. You know, the really destructive ones."

I did not like that.

"I'm not destroying anything for you."

Procrustes outright laughed at that. This one was definitely mocking. "For me? Please. For you.

"How often have you completely destroyed something on accident? How many times were you kicked out of school for destroying things? Multiple times, I heard. How much collateral damage do you usually wreak on your missions? And those were for mundane monsters. Let's not even get into Manhattan or the Giants… or Atlas." I felt my fists tighten and had to struggle to keep a somewhat neutral expression. "No, to have power is to destroy. And you, brother, have destroyed so much."

"To save people. To stop them from dying," I practically hissed back.

"You know, I actually have a pet theory on that," the monster continued as if I hadn't even spoken. "Way back when I was born, father and Zeus," he practically spat the name, "had so many children, they had to have been in multiple places at multiple times. Not so difficult for a god, right? But their children are born with the aspects of that physical manifestation. If they were in so many places courting so many people at so many times, their children really couldn't be that powerful. There just weren't enough aspects to go around.

"But then World War II happened, and the pact." He snorted, chuckling cruelly as he looked me up and down. "You are literally the result of that; of Father actually trying to keep that pact. The many different aspects he represents—the domains he commands—were all present when you were conceived." Not something I liked to think about. At all. Ever. For multiple reasons. "Personally, I find it hilarious that the very thing the gods used to try and keep themselves safe—the pact and consequently the…" he cleared his throat and looked me up and down again, "results—is the very thing that will bring them down." He leered, leaning forward.

I had had enough. I didn't give the other being a moment's warning before I'd swung Riptide, separating the man's head from his body. There wasn't any blood, but for some reason, he didn't immediately dissipate into gold dust either. I decided to take advantage of that.

"You are not welcome here."

Instead of looking angry or upset, the head just grinned and spoke one last thing before finally disintegrating—although how he could speak when he no longer had lungs, I didn't know.

"Good answer… Brother."

Then he was gone, dust blown away on the light breeze.

I just stood there for several seconds, not daring to move for some reason I couldn't define. Then I finally lowered my sword and looked down at the palm of one of my hands. How long could I handle this? Living in The Pit with… with them, without giving into the very real fury I'd kept at bay for so long—the longing to show the Olympians how wrong they were. It wasn't about revenge for what they'd done to me, even, but more anger at their methods in general—their attitude towards mortals and especially their half-mortal children; towards my friends and family.

I closed my hand into a fist and put it to my head.

It looked like I needed even better control over my temper. I'd had issues with that before, when every negative emotion seemed magnified by ten. Or twenty. Or a hundred. Now… it felt like I could barely hold on to anything that didn't feed that anger.

Taking a deep breath and doing my best to imagine all of my frustration, negativity and fear leaving me with that breath (with only some success), I turned and began to go about my plans for the day. I had things to do and couldn't dwell on the very wrong words of a bitter demigod-turned-monster.

And if I couldn't sleep later due to how those words weighed on my mind, well, no one would know but me.

xXx

AN: Not gonna lie, not the happiest with this chapter, but got done everything I wanted to. I did like the convo with Procrustes there at the end. Happy to work in some headcanons there. Just as a reminder, Percy is 19-20 here, at least (time in Tartarus... seriously), so he's probably reached his full height and Procrustes still towers over him. I hope I spelled Shaq's name right...

Thanks to Berix, Undead Prince and Quathis for their help on this. However, this is as far as some of my beta readers got as it was as far as I'd written for a while, sooo... if anyone is interested, I have the entire 2nd draft of the story posted in my google docs... *hint, hint* ;)

Discord: discord. gg/xDDz3gqWfy (no spaces)