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hvrricaneromeo · 5 months

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[ ROMEO VALIENTE — LEVEL 05 — PATH ]

trigger warnings for panic attack, parental/child abuse, homophobia, anxiety, talk of death.

the child of zeus had answered the call. drinking the ambrosia and not leaving a drop behind. there was no turning back. divinity ran through his veins now, and whether it swallowed him whole or granted him new life would be up to him…

romeo finds himself in a peaceful slumber. the day had been long, and now in the arms of those that dwell within the athena cabin he found safety. a chance to rest peacefully in the arms of those that he cares for. to feel their warm embrace through the cool spring night. yet on this night something stirs within romeo.

it begins as a soft thrum. an echo of vibrations that shifts through him. at the edge of his hearing he can pick up soft notes. a familiar tune, that strums and tugs at his heart. the lullaby slowly growing louder, and louder, a sirens song growing clearer through the haze of his sleep. it reaches out to romeo, slowly encompassing him in its embrace. once fully surrounding the son of zeus its grip tightens, a fierce determination to hold strong onto the man.

the songs tempo builds higher and higher, the speed a flurry of notes that fill romeo with a sense of power or perhaps anxiety. no matter how hard he tries though he can not wake. he can not open his eyes. they remain shut, still fast asleep as his heartbeat quickens.

divinity calls upon him, and romeo must answer. the feeling of lightning slamming through his chest causes the demigod to wake with a start. eyes bursting open as he gasps for air.

vision shifting as soft sparks of electricity fizzle out of the air. the sudden crash of thunder waking him fully to the realization that he is no longer where he had been sleeping. no longer surrounded by those protective arms. instead he is alone…

WHEN ROMEO OPENS HIS EYES, WHAT DOES HE SEE? WHERE IS HE? PLEASE DESCRIBE IT.

he wakes with a start—a lightning bolt sundering his insides and casting him ablaze. his breath comes in shallow pants, a near hiss through a clenched jaw. he looks around and he doesn't see atticus, remy, or oliver.

it's alarming.

he closes his eyes, squeezing them tightly, before opening them again. he blinks, the room coming into focus.

beneath him, he feels the familiar leather of a chair he sat in day after day. he can feel where his fingernails dug grooves into it, nearly tearing at the expensive fabric as if he was trying to keep his nerves in check, to keep himself from breaking. dark painted walls, nearly black, wrap around him in all corners. in front of him, a large glass table, metallic legged, separates him from a larger leather wing backed chair. the room is meticulously clean, minimalistic but imposing.

his father's office.

ramiro valiente's office.

he can read the golden etched name plate on the corner of the desk, can see the neatly piled papers, can even see the briefcase set beside the legs. the air smells the same as it always did: vanilla and citrus, an underlying pepper, almost like cayenne, and tobacco. his chest tightens. it's been weeks since he's been in this office, weeks since he's had to walk down the silent hall of the law firm he interned at—beneath his father, beneath his superiors, beneath the thumb of what was expected of him.

he looks around, the glass windows behind the desk overlooking new york and, behind him, the large glass door showing the hallway he walked down one too many times. there's an emptiness to this place, a hollowness, and it makes his chest constrict.

this is where the yelling happens. this is when his father presses a button to darken the glass and slaps him across the face and gets in his face.

this is when he realizes he'll never be enough.

behind romeo the new york skyline stands tall. a storm slowly building in the distance as grey clouds begin to shift and sway with the tightness that is building in romeo's chest. the storm brews as those feelings of inadequacy fester deep inside of the child of zeus.

romeo is accustomed to this place being nothing but shouting, yelling, screaming… yet here in this moment the room is silent. silent except for the soft echoes of that lullaby that haunt the back of his mind.

what does romeo do?

romeo moves from the chair, nearly knocking it over with how quickly he moves to get toward the window. he reaches out, a hand pressed to the glass, and looks at the brewing storm.

a reflection of the storm inside of him, the building hurricane, the natural disaster that he could unleash with a scream, a cry. with eyes like spring leaves, he stares at the brewing storm, breathing in and out with every rumble of thunder and flash of lightning he might see.

he tries to connect, tries to feel the storm.

inhale, one, two, three, four, five.

exhale, one, two, three, four, five.

the storm is him. it always has been. a tumultuous and treacherous thing. something that can't be tamed, that can't be swayed. a force of nature so powerful that everyone is both in fear and in awe of its power.

he stands there, looking outward, both hands now pressed to the glass and just watches the storm unfold.

eyes glued to the storm romeo watches as it builds larger and larger. destructive power brewing as the clouds darken and lightning streaks throughout the sky.

he counts… and he counts… and he counts…

over and over again romeo counts, breathing in and out in an effort to calm his mind. yet the storm does not calm. it continues to grow, continues to spread. darkening the sky as rain begins to fall. the first few drops hitting the glass with a soft pitter patter that brings his attention to a reflection.

there in the window, something begins to take shape.

who or what is in the reflection?

it takes a moment for romeo to realize something is staring at him through the reflection of the glass, but when his eyes meet the ones looking, he freezes.

tall, broad shouldered, impecibly tailored suit, head shaved down close, the perfect amount of stubble. tanned skin, darker than his own usually. a man that romeo knows quite well, the man that, up until weeks ago, romeo thought was his father.

ramiro valiente.

the suit he wears is nearly as black as the walls, save for the golden cuff links and accented accessories he wears—a watch, a wedding band on his finger, he is an imposing force to be reckoned with, a storm of his own right.

romeo nearly flinches as his eyes meet the light brown hues of his father's eyes—eyes that didn't match his. he stands still, just staring, unable to say anything.

he can't be here. he can't be here. he can't be here.

he left him behind.

as the panic begins to grow once more within romeo the boys eyes shut tight trying to will the image away. as if just by thinking it he can get rid of the nightmare before him. the storm inside romeo only growing thicker, like the clouds themselves may very well be choking his lungs as a thrum of electricity fills his veins.

a long and exasperated sigh escapes the man as he grips the back of romeo's neck. as he does so the demigods eyes open and the man is standing now much taller than he was before… or perhaps, perhaps it is that romeo has gotten much smaller than what he was before. having to look up to see the man's eyes as he glares down with unbridled annoyance, that hand gripping the back of the demigods neck and tugging him away from the window.

"what have i told you about playing in my office when i'm not here? how many times do i need to remind you this isn't a playground!"

the hand on his neck sends an electric shock coursing through his veins. it sets the hairs on his forearms and the back of his neck on end. the yelling will come next, the berating. weeks without this, of a new life, has nearly made romeo valiente forget everything he endured, the expectation and the abuse, the rigorous performance of being the perfect son for the perfect man.

it's strange how one person can make someone feel so small. how one look could render a future king to nothing more than a motionless, obedient child.

romeo is twenty-four years old but, within the presence of ramiro, he is nothing more than a child waiting ot be punished.

he knows not to talk back, but the words spill out of him anyway.

"i wasn't playing around in here."

a look of disgust grows across ramiro's face. raised eyebrow as he kneels to look romeo in the eye. "oh…" the sheer mockery in his voice is met with a pitiful laugh as the hand grips the back of romeo's neck tighter.

"so you finally learn the truth, found your real father and suddenly think you can speak back to me? all that power going to waist in such a worthless child like you." venom. words filled to the brim with venom and vitriol.

as the words filter through romeo how do they make him feel?

the words are like a gust of wind to the face, a maelstrom of rain battering against his skin, leaving him chilled to the bone. the thrumming in his chest, that kickdrum of thunder, is a broken staccato.

but they're not words that he's not heard before.

they're not words that he hasn't told himself, either.

he looks down, at his father's brightly polished designer shoes. the man exudes power. although, the power he wields is more like a ticking bomb with a short fuse, ready to detonate and lay waste to everything in his wake.

romeo, too, is much the same. his fuse longer, internalized and broken, but still there.

and the words spat at him ignite it.

his hands clench at his sides and he feels that familiar power coursing through him, lightning in a bottle, crackling behind the cage of his rib bones.

"you're right." romeo says, finally looking up to lock eyes with the man who raised him, the man who told him to never show emotion, to never let emotions lead his judgment. the man who told him he had to be a certain way in order to succeed, in order to live up to his legacy. the valiente family would not be weak and, for all his life, romeo thought that's exactly what he was.

until he heard the song in his veins.

"power? i have it." his fingernails dig crescent moons into the palm of his hands. "you don't."

a fuse is lit…

it's flame sputtering, sparking, moving along its winding path as romeo stares up at ramiro. childlike form standing tall against the man who has tormented him for years.

those stern eyes gazing down to watch as romeo's hands ball into fists. the anger inside of the boy like a storm. howling winds ripping against your chest as lightning dances along your ribcage. power. it's there, right inside of him. but before romeo can fully get a firm grasp on it a hand is reaching deep within his chest. Fingers clasping around the very core of those powers, and with a harsh brutality begins to tug.

[ ROMEO… PLEASE MAKE A CON SAVE, DC 20 ]

CON SAVE — 12.

pain.

unimaginable pain.

and then… nothing.

truly nothing…

there is no song, no lullaby, no rumble of the storm. romeo watches as the hand slowly pulls free from his chest. in the fist is a crackling burst of lightning. it sparks and pulses shooting out as if trying to escape. the tendrils of light reaching out for romeo, yet unable to connect.

romeo has been severed from his divinity…

"you mean this power? pathetic as always ronto…"

what does romeo do?

romeo has felt what nearly dying feels like. he's fallen from sixty feet in the air more than once, sundered and broken. he's seen the world go black at the edges of his vision, has felt the dizziness settle in.

but this? this is something far worse.

it's the absence of everything. a void within him. this must be what losing hope feels like. at the end of everything, when faith is broken, there is only this. a darkness that swirls inside of him like a vortex, that swallows him whole. all consuming. a nothingness worse than any storm that ever battered against his skin.

for so long, he didn't know who he was or he was meant to be. not without ramiro dictating his every mood, not without sneaking around after hours to release and relax, to do the things he wished. to be who he wanted to be.

then, the ambrosia. the searing pain. he remembers everything about it, the words that slithered into his mind like snakes, biting and biting and biting, seeping poison into his bloodstream, trying to make him believe that it was true.

even now, he hears those voices.

he will be nothing. nothing. nothing. he'll hurt those around him. he's dangerous. he'll never be king. false prince, false prince, false prince.

he stares at the crackling electricity torn from his chest, how it nearly beats like a heart. is that all he had inside of him? is that piece of the storm really all he is?

"no." he whispers, voice broken, like shards of glass lodged in his throat. this can't be the end. it can't be. he thinks to himself.

"this power."

romeo reaches even further within himself, desperate to cling on to any remnants of the song inside of him or the storm outside these glass paned windows. the song once sang to it and he answered now, he reaches in deep and sings for it to come home. he pulls on everything he has, everything he is, everything that's made him who he is until this point and latches on as hard as he can.

he stares at ramiro valiente, the father that should have loved and accepted him, and feels the man who dug dirty fingers into his chest and ripped away everything that he's crafted to become romeo valiente, and lets the unbridled fury of the storm unleash upon him.

[ ROMEO... PLEASE MAKE A CHARISMA SAVE, DC 20. ]

CHARISMA SAVE — 19.

romeo digs within himself. clawing at the empty void that now sits in his chest. the storm that once raged is gone. not even a light breeze is left. eyes glancing up he is met with a wicked sneer coming from ramiro. the man who raised him, the man who first showed him what power meant. what its destructive power could do.

"what was that?"

ramiro asks with another sneer. the lightning crackles and cries, a loud boom echoing from the fist as the thunder shudders against that grasp. he squeezes. fist tight. knuckles slowly growing white as he all but crushes what power romeo used to have.

"pathetic. truly fucking pathetic. all you are is a prime example of nepotism, and hell you couldn't even do that right."

lifting his foot up he slams it down against romeo's chest and presses him into the floor. the weight of him growing as he raises the ball of lightning high above his head and towards the sky.

"you know I knew you were worthless, but to think even now you can't stand up for yourself."

heel digging in harder. the soul of his designer shoe sinking into the hole in romeo's chest. the weight of his body growing heavier as he steps atop where romeo's heart should be.

"prince of olympus my ass, nothing but a bastard who can't even call upon the storm."

with a twist of his hand a bolt of lightning slams down into the ground against romeo's head. burst of light sparking through the darkness of the room as a cold wind begins to blow. a storm is brewing, but this is not romeo's… no, it is far darker than anything he could brew.

"do i need to show you how to use your own powers? or have you already blown your shot like those cocks in your mouth? spending all your time on your knees when you should have been working to earn what daddy dearest left you."

how do these words effect romeo? and what does he do in response?

his worst fear is being spat in his face, venom laced words marred by the lightning that crackles in a hand that isn't his. green eyes stare at the fist, at how the lightning nearly begs to be set free.

the words dig into him, like knuckles, like knives, like a bruise that he'd push against just to feel alive, just to make sure that his father hadn't left him truly broken. was he, though? if he didn't have that storm inside of him, then who, or what, was he?

is romeo nothing? can he be more? can he be what they need him to be? can he be who he needs himself to be?

the weight of the foot on his chest squeezes the air out of his lungs. he lets out a pained cry, feeling like his entire chest is going to cave in. he struggles, hands digging into the floor beneath him before he tries to push himself up.

that's when the storm cracks, lightning searing against him, a darker cloud than any he's ever seen before rolling in, wielded by a man who isn't worthy to hold it.

but that's it, isn't it? he, himself, isn't worthy. why?

why? why?

because he doesn't believe himself to be? because he's gone all his life doing as he's told, hiding who he is, hiding who he wants to be, because he was to afraid to step out of line? and now? now what's his excuse.

nepotism gone wrong.

because he doesn't want the crown handed to him, he wants to work for it, he wants to earn it, he wants to deserve it.

he thinks back to what he's been through since arriving at the camp, since accepting the song in his blood. so many people already look to him for leadership, have accepted the crown atop his head because of his actions, because he's kept them safe, because he's demonstrated the power that he has and hasn't been afraid. it's been a lie, a ruse, because romeo valiente is scared, he's terrified.

but he won't be any longer.

"i don't need you," romeo says through gritted teeth, his voice low and dark. with eyes looking up at his father from beneath his shoe, he continues. "to tell me who i am." romeo lets out a bellow of a scream, clawed hands reaching up, willing whatever storm his father is wielding into him, ready to take on that power and claim it as his, as it should be in the first place.

[ ROMEO... ROLL A CHARISMA SAVING THROW, DC 20 ]

CHARISMA SAVE — 27.

"i don't need you…"

the words rumble throughout the room. thunder and lightning crashing above them as the very room itself begins to shake. the storm grows into something all consuming as the wind whips around them.

"to tell me who i am."

hands clawing at ramiro's leg, tugging, pulling, romeo reaches for the lightning. his struggle seems in vein at first. desperation filling the boy up as lightning crashes all around them. the howling screaming winds filling his ears as rain starts to pour. trying his hardest to reclaim the storm, to reclaim what belongs to him.

there's a moment. a look of recognition as those eyes flash bright like lightning. his teeth tight in a snarl of what looks like excitement fills the older man. a laugh building up and bursting forth from the man as a massive bolt of lightning comes slamming down not only into him but also into romeo.

as the flash of light disappears romeo lays in the eye of the storm. the roof to the office has been blown away along with most of the furniture. for a moment all is quiet. the dull ache in his chest still there…

the absence of power lingers…

there is nothing…

nothing…

boom…

the first rumbles of thunder resound in his chest as the storm begins to build once more.

boom…

winds picking up and filling the void. their swirling mass harnessed within romeo as he feels himself begin to lift off the ground.

CRACK!

lightning slams down around romeo, he is complete… he is whole… and now he is so much more…

but as the power settles he hears his father's voice once more. the dark whisper in the back of his mind.

"you'll always need me, hell… couldn't even claim this without me."

a thrum of electricity courses over romeo's being. a current racing along his veins as a low crack of thunder booms with each beat of his heart. the storm circles faster, growing larger and larger.

"work harder boy, or I'll be back to rip this from you completely next time."

the words crawl against his skin, and in his chest he feels that hand gripping onto his divinity. as the hand squeezes the storm rages even louder, and romeo is able to rip free from the feeling. he feels stronger, faster, more in touch with himself and the divine song that courses through his veins. the song within him soaring in a crescendo as a new path unfolds before him.

eyes forced open once more the son of zeus finds himself back in the athena cabin. sweat soaks the bed and his body. his arms and legs have spread out and are clutching those that share this space with him. high above the cabin a slow storm rumbles, the sound of thunder bringing comfort as it resonates with his song.

the son of zeus has taken the first steps into a fuller acceptance of who he is and who he will become.

only time will tell what's in store for this godling, and whether or not this would be a step in the right direction…

he wakes in a cold sweat, a near scream ripping from his lips. he chokes it down, feeling heat pressed against his back and his front—bodies of familiar people—atticus, remy, oliver.

inside his chest, his heart feels as if it's been ripped out and torn asunder, stomped on, torn open, before placed back inside him. the broken pieces of himself are barely hanging on and he feels as if he's been struck by lightning. a numbness settles into his bones, a tiredness that overtakes him.

inhale, one, two, three, four, five.

exhale, one, two, three, four, five.

he can't be here, not within the athena cabin, not within arms that want to keep him safe, protect him from harm.

was it all a dream? the loss of his divinity, the song within his veins nothing more than silence? he listens now, desperate to hear it, desperate to know that he's still who he's chosen to be.

seconds turn to minutes.

he finally hears it, the song that he answered. this time, though, it's more meloncholy, darker, but there's still power within him. he's always been a storm, he's always had a hurricane pressed between his lungs and a thunderstorm behind his ribcage.

but now, romeo valiente, is a storm of his own making and he'll prove that to himself and anyone who stands in his way.

PATH COMPLETE !

#✧ — 𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐳𝐞𝐮𝐬 ꒰ musings ꒱#✧ — 𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐳𝐞𝐮𝐬 ꒰ path ꒱#path of the ruinous storm #child abuse tw #panic attack tw #ahhhhhhhhhh!!!

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