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Melinoë grit her teeth as she collapsed to the ground, arms shaking. Lim and Oros clattered down beside her, skidding just out of reach. She was on her last leg. She thought maybe she could take two, maybe three, more hits before she was done.
"Oh, how the mighty fall!" Scylla crooned, large body towering over Melinoë's crumpled form.
How had it come to this?
She had been on a hot streak. She'd taken down Chronos twice and faced Typhon, sending him tumbling down the cliffs of Olympus.
So how, exactly, was she was facing defeat here? To Scylla, of all monsters?
"Y'know, I'm almost disappointed," Scylla sighed, dipping her microphone forward. It caught under Melinoë's chin and Scylla lifted her head up, forcing their eyes to meet. Melinoë felt her body flush hot with anger. "You're off your game, Lady! It's like you weren't even trying! I bet you couldn't even tell me what song we were performing."
"Uh…I Am Gonna Claw?" Melinoë guessed through gritted teeth, shrugging her aching shoulders.
"Wrong! Jeez, Lady, you must be really out of it," Scylla hummed, leaning down to survey Melinoë's face more closely. "This almost doesn't feel like a victory…though it does, of course," she smiled, shaking her head. "You've been so sure of your victory against me, against us, for too long, Lady. Hopefully this knocks you down a peg."
"It won't," Melinoë grunted, "I'll be back tomorrow to put you back in your place."
"You would say that, wouldn't you?" Scylla purred, leaning closer. "Try to intimidate me, make me think you're gonna beat me, that you'll ruin yet another one of our concerts? Sorry, Lady, but it's kind of hard to take you seriously when you're knelt before me like this."
Melinoë tsk'd and Scylla laughed, something sharp and quick that pierced it's way into Melinoë's body, rattling her bones and quickening her heartbeat.
Up close like this, Scylla was almost intimidating.
"What? No quip to follow that one up?" Scylla asked, tipping her head. "That cat of yours got your tongue?"
Melinoë grimaced, biting her cheek as she glared at the sea monster. Her bright teal eyes bored into Melinoë's, thin red lips pulled into that ever-present smile. She was so close that Melinoë could feel the chill wafting off her skin, cold breath ghosting against her face. If she looked close enough, she could see condensation forming on her cheeks and dripping down her hair.
Scylla wasn't just almost intimidating when she was close, Melinoë mused. She was cold, confident. Smugness rolled off of her in waves. Distantly, Melinoë thought she was captivating. Scylla's stage presence could overwhelm even from a distance, a feeling easily ignored by the heat of battle.
But here she was, down, weapons cast too far away to use, Toula napping out of sight, with Scylla towering above her, holding her chin and pressing into her space. Not even her cast could save her, having brushed off one too many boons on her way down.
Scylla was everywhere. She was all Melinoë could see, she was the chill worming it's way through her bones, the air she breathed. She couldn't ignore her even if she tried.
"Hm, really thought you'd want the final word," Scylla hummed, retracting her microphone and pressing it back up against her lips. Melinoë watched the movement and curled a fist so tight it ached. "Last chance, Lady!"
This isn't over, Melinoë thought. This was a fluke. You won't best me again, Scylla.
She opened her mouth, sore jaw fighting against the movement. Part of her just wanted to give up, let Scylla take the victory. Not like she had any fight left in her, anyway.
A smaller, fierier, pettier part of her pushed her to speak. To take that final word. To knock that smug grin off of Scylla's face. Just…say something. Anything. Even if just to tick her off.
If she didn't, Scylla would hold this over her for who knows how many nights. Hell, even if Melinoë speaks, she'll still probably hold this failure over her head. Speaking would make her feel a bit better about it, though.
Scylla was a proud, petty creature. It doesn't matter how many times she lost, all that matters is she'd won once. She'd carry this victory as long as it'll hold her. That's who she was.
Scylla was overly confident.
Scylla was brash, mean, and would hold a grudge even if it killed her.
Scylla's voice was like honey, overly sweet and frustratingly sticky.
Scylla was a monster at heart, driven by a never-satiated hunger.
Scylla's very presence was distracting, all false charm and overblown narcissism.
Scylla could be called a siren in her own right.
Scylla is…
"Gods," Melinoë breathed, mouth moving before she could think, "you're beautiful."
Okay, anything but that. Literally anything but that.
"Beg pardon?" Scylla's voice was small, almost as if she were breathless. Her eyes blew wide and she pulled back, as if she were distancing herself from a fire.
Which, hell, Melinoë might as well be a fire with the awful, flaming mess she's just thrown herself into. She almost couldn't feel her various injuries around the white-hot embarrassment flooding through her system. She felt frozen under Scylla's bright gaze.
She hadn't meant to speak it aloud. That was one of those thoughts you keep to yourself and never tell anyone you ever thought it, ever. Not like it was something she thought often, mind you. Just a passing thought. It wasn't something she thought as she fought her way through Oceanus, nor as they battled night after night. It wasn't even a fleeting thought, imagining her immersed in the waters by the pier, watching Melinoë from afar with hunger in her-
Oh, Gods, no. Stop thinking, Melinoë. Stop thinking.
Suddenly, Scylla barked out a laugh. It was stilted and forced, all-too loud and full of faux confidence. Melinoë jumped at the sound, the jolt shocking her limbs into working again.
"Oh, Lady-" Scylla started, waving her hand nonchalantly. Melinoë's stomach dropped and she decided she had no desire to hear what came next.
"Return to Shadow, now!" She chanted, desperate to escape this uncomfortable, embarrassing nightmare.
"Ah- hey! It's rude to leave when a woman's talking to you!" Scylla's yell followed Melinoë back to the Crossroads, echoing in her ears as she touched down outside her tent.
"…It just sticks with you, like the world's worst honey," Melinoë remarked, rubbing her temples. She took a grounding breath, sighing deeply.
"Gods, what a night."
Melinoë gave herself a moment to compose herself before heading into the Crossroads, mindlessly working through her usual tasks. Talk to Dora, check on the Fated List, clean up Eris' mess, pick the garden and plant new seeds, wave a useless hand in front of Hypnos' eyes to ensure he was still asleep.
She stepped into the training grounds, exchanging a few words with Schelemeus before heading towards the Oath of the Unseen, checking what vows she had made the night before. She had a sneaking suspicion she had gotten ahead of herself and bitten off more than she could chew.
And, wow, okay, yes, that was far more than she could chew. No wonder she had lost quickly. She'd pledged to almost everything on the list with as much might as she could muster. She cast a backwards look before quietly rescinding her vows, apologizing to Nyx under her breath.
"There's no shame in takin' it back!" Schelemeus called across the room and Melinoë tried not to cringe at being caught.
She turned, facing the stairway down into Erebus. She flipped Lim and Oros around in her hands, feeling their weight and considering her strength.
She had no doubts that she'd be able to slash her way down to Tartarus with few issues. She might even best her grandfather again, if the stars aligned.
Teal eyes flashed in her mind and she gripped the Sister Blades tightly.
She had the physical strength. No problem. She could tear down Scylla in a second, vanquishing both her and her sirens before they could even reach the second verse of their song.
She furrowed her brows, gnawing at her cheek. Death to Chronos, first and foremost. But…
She spun around, twirling Lim and Oros gracefully in her palms before rushing up the stairs to the City of Ephyra. The Olympians needed her help too, after all. It had nothing to do with the previous night's problems.
The thrill burning low in her stomach was nothing more than drive to complete her tasks. It had nothing to do with frustrating, unconventionally pretty sea monsters and had nothing to do with telling said monsters as much.
In fact, as far as Melinoë was concerned, she felt nothing about the slip up. She felt less than nothing about the girl she'd spoken it to.
Absolutely nothing.
Nothing at all.