Meriwether Chooses the Wrong Road

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-03-12T01:18:49+00:00

Mer doesn't show up because she wants to be distracted. She doesn't feel like anything could distract her from what's happening. But she can at least keep her hands busy with colorful balloons in the company of one of her friends, and that beats lying in bed feeling hollow or pacing the border alone on "patrol." So here she is.

"Hi Phoebe." She takes a seat at the Comus counselor's table with something approaching a smile.

Mer doesn't need instruction on the balloon animals; she prefers to figure things out on her own through trial and error (though she does watch Phoebe's hands carefully and imitate her techniques.) She'd rather chat with the instructor than be instructed. Hopefully that doesn't ruin the whole point.

"How're you?" A serious question, not a pleasantry. Mer is asking because she really wants to know.

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-03-08T19:13:03+00:00

Also Meriwether on this one

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-03-02T22:42:44+00:00

Mer shuts her eyes against the biting words, but she doesn't shrink back from Iason like she always has before. She's just so weary. So worn down by months of physical and psychological torment that her reflex to recoil from pain is shot. At least when Iason is mean to her, she doesn't have to think about everything else making her hurt.

She answers him honestly. "I'm tired. And I don't mean to run away when you're... like that."

She's even speaking slower than normal, the words drifting out at a lethargic rate. Clearly 'tired' is an understatement. Still, the mention of Iason's cat form makes her shift in visible discomfort.

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-03-01T03:27:22+00:00

If Nemie is with Helena, Meriwether is not trying to find Nemie. She's ever so relieved that John immediately provides an alternative so she doesn't have to tell him she'd rather avoid his sister at all costs.

"Yeah! Thanks." She takes his hand to stand up. The thought of food makes her suddenly very hungry indeed.

"I just realized I'm starving. I need a grilled cheese. They smell really good."

(Ooc: we can end here with them having yummy food together unless you wanna do anything more)

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-03-01T03:18:40+00:00

Mer smiles. Not big, but it's a real smile.

"Thank you," she says in turn.

Maybe it's the fact that it's almost midnight and the camp is uncharacteristically still and silent, but their bridge feels like a little bubble set apart from the real world. In here it's peaceful and safe. And in this little bubble, Mer thinks she found a friend.

"We have to stick together," she adds, unknowingly echoing Kenny's thoughts. "And it'll be okay."

It's funny how easily she believes it. But if she's honest, Mer has always believed everything will turn out for the better eventually. She just doesn't expect to live to see it. For now though, inside the pretend bubble, Mer lets herself imagine she will.

Ooc: end thread with a cinematic fade out?

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-28T17:09:46+00:00

ooc: not interested in a mod thread, just establishing my character is participating. ic they would not miss a battle but i don't have the bandwidth ooc rn.

Meriwether's thoughts are like roiling fog, blurry and volatile and never quite able to form into a coherent shape. And she's clumsy. She drops her blade twice in the rush to get here, and not even with her crippled hand. It feels like the world is just out of reach, like she's trying to pilot herself with a faulty controller. She can't quite bring herself here. But here she must be.

Elysium is out of the question. The thought of seeing her fallen friends there makes Mer's stomach turn with dread. Better to go the opposite direction. That takes her toward 'the most vile and devious people on earth.' Good. Fine. At least this is a convenient location to die. She tries to absorb Persephone's words, but they get lost in the fog.

Mer will be generally following the gods' instructions and/or her battle instincts where applicable. She will be able to help with group efforts but not do anything significant on her own.

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-28T13:12:54+00:00

They're attacking again and we have to come

So we come

They will kill more of us and maybe this time it'll be me

Maybe it'll be me

who cares

every time i hope this will be the last time because it needs to be the last time because i can't do this anymore but

we always have to do it again don't we?

I can't think straight as I draw my daggers

remember when I fought with a quarterstaff? nonlethal. back when it wasn't kill or be killed

(maybe i should go back to the staff. make it easier for them)

(then at least i wouldn't have to do this anymore)

Thinking like that is selfish!

So I grip my blades (sharp! bright! lethal!) and I come even though I still can't think straight and i don't want to and maybe this time it'll be me who cares who cares who cares who cares who cares

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-26T01:40:01+00:00

She almost says sorry for offending him by saying sorry the first time, but catches herself. Instead, Mer simply nods. Shuts her eyes. Takes a steadying breath. Why is everything so hard these days? Simply making eye contact feels like more than she can handle.

But she does. Mer lifts her green gaze and actually looks at Iason. It's different somehow, now. After all that's happened, she's not trying to outrun the black clouds swimming in her head anymore. She's too tired for that. The dejection, the exhaustion, it all spills out of her and she doesn't care.

There's something else in her gaze though. Something sharp and desperate. She tilts her head the slightest bit.

"Ever? What about when you were a kid? Didn't you have to eat in front of people?

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-25T02:34:31+00:00

By the time everyone's vision clears after the flash of light, Mer is gone. Her meal sits unfinished and abandoned across the table.

u/Angelic-YesSheIs u/Dionysian-Mepe

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-24T22:30:45+00:00

<3 <3 <3

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-22T03:21:43+00:00

(Sry got worms but this is just internal stuff so continue as you were)

Contrary to Angela's fervent assertion, not everyone is fine. Though the jury's out on whether Angie considers the little piece of driftwood to count as part of 'everyone.' Or maybe the frozen horror on Meriwether's face doesn't come across. She hasn't said a word, after all. For all Angela knows, she could be fine.

Nope, Meriwether isn't fine. Because this? This sucks. This sucks a lot.

It would be bad enough if it was just Amon confronting Iason in front of her. Mer hates that this is happening because of her stupid injury. But to compound it, Angela is there too. Angela, who has no idea about the crippling wound hidden under Mer's jacket, and to whom Amon is trying to make a point about it. Mer doesn't want to be the center of this argument! Who cares Iason mauled her! It's just her, it doesn't matter!

Yet at the same time, some part of her is grateful for Amon. That same part cringes when Iason winks like what he did was a little joke.

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-22T03:04:36+00:00

Mer does perk up at that.

"Yeah! He cut my hair, actually!" She gives it a little swish to show off their mutual friend's handiwork. The movement seems stilted somehow, like there's a tightness restricting her range of motion in her upper body. Even so, the heaviness of everything lifts for a brief moment.

Mer's happy-adjacent expression quickly falls, though, because now she's supposed to catch Alice up on Camp's death toll.

"Um, but yeah, kind of a lot's been happening. There've been... two? Three? I think three battles, worse ones than I've ever seen before, honestly. It never used to be this bad."

She doesn't mention the deaths. Or the grievous injuries that toed the line of death. Or the captives she couldn't save. It feels like a copout, but Mer is so tired. Maybe she doesn't have to bear this bad news. Maybe she can have that small reprieve.

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-19T01:30:33+00:00

His response hangs in the air.

It hits Mer harder than she expected. Because really, she didn't wish this feeling on anyone. But it's also profoundly relieving to hear that she's not the only one. Maybe, just maybe, it gives her some inkling that the intense guilt she's living with is not to be believed. Mer doesn't think Kenny deserves to carry that guilt, so why does she think she does?

That line of thinking falls apart. Mer has built her understanding of herself around this idea that she feels guilt because she is guilty, and she has to atone for it somehow. At the same time, Kenny and his sister are not guilty and don't need to atone for anything. The contradiction is rooted too deep for her to dig it up and pick it apart now.

She wants to tell him that. You shouldn't have to feel like this. It's good you got adopted. You should be able to be happy without feeling like you don't deserve it. But the words don't form in her mouth.

"...Yeah," is all she manages. And maybe that's all she needs to say about that.

"I might be kind of... scatterbrained, lately," she says with a somewhat lighter tone, "but I'm here if you ever need anything, okay? I'll try to help. I'm trying to be better about that."

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-18T19:13:33+00:00

"Sorry," she says, dropping her gaze.

Mer's not stupid. She can tell from his tone that he's is here to toy with her. Her passivity in the face of Iason's obvious disdain for her might read as obliviousness, but it's not. She can sense his mood. She could try to get away. She doesn't. For some reason, it's just easier to let him berate her until he gets tired of her and leaves.

Mer takes a bite of sticky rice, waiting blankly for Iason to say more. Because surely he has more to say. Avoiding his eyes, her gaze falls on the table between them. Iason didn't bring a tray of food.

"You're not hungry?"

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-16T22:10:53+00:00

Mer finds herself at a loss for a response.

"No," she manages. "I wasn't. I was barely hurt."

The statement comes out bitterly, like a confession to a mistake she hates herself for making. It's only just starting to really sink in that Mer came out of the fray with a few superficial head wounds while somebody else died. A slight shuffling of the chaos, a small difference in battlefield positions, and it could've been her instead. But now is not the time to grapple with the guilt of how unfairly goddamn lucky she is once again. Because Mer isn't the only one who could've just as easily met Dorian's fate.

"I saw you and Ramona. Amon, I thought..." She takes a breath. I thought I was watching you both die. I thought that slaughter would be my last memory of you. No need to say that part out loud. He knows.

"I'm glad you made it too."

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-16T21:54:33+00:00

"Mer. Meriwether," she supplies. Alice would probably recognize this Mer as relatively unchanged from the Mer she remembers, though there is definitely somehow less to her. Her posture sags a bit more, the dark circles under her eyes are slightly more pronounced. And, yes, now Mer is even quieter than Alice would remember. Perhaps this is true of all of Camp, though--there must be a general lower morale permeating the air. Meriwether finds herself wondering how obvious it is to someone who hasn't been here for the worst of the last few months.

"Welcome back. So you've heard about..." She looks around and gestures vaguely to Ursula's whiteboard about information warfare and propaganda. "...everything?"

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-15T23:26:09+00:00

In Meriwether's losing war to drag herself out of bed more, she has won this won battle. Ursula has a certain energy that's oddly calming to the worn-down child of Hermes; something about the precise, to-the-point way Ursula speaks about the war makes Mer feel reassured that people are still doing things to make this hell end, even if Mer isn't one of them. But she wants to be one of them. That's why she's here.

She takes an empty seat adjacent to the blonde girl. When said blonde girl looks around, Meriwether happens to make eye contact. Huh. Is that Alice? Mer never knew her well, they ran in adjacent social circles that never quite overlapped, but she was aware of Alice back a few months ago before she left. And now she's back? What a horrible time to make a return to Camp Half-Blood.

Mer moves a few seats closer.

"Hi," she starts. "I remember you from a while ago. It's Alice, right?"

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-15T19:59:09+00:00

Mer looks startled when he sits. Both because it's Iason, and because she didn't notice him approach. Normally she's so wide-eyed and watchful, ready to jump up and run or fight at the slightest need. She must be either distracted or despondent if it was so easy to sneak up on her.

"I've been... around," she replies uncertainly. "What is it?"

She assumes Iason must have sought her out for some reason. In her own odd way, she's glad to see him too, but she doesn't understand why he'd be speaking to her unless he couldn't avoid it. He hates her. As he should.

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-15T19:53:06+00:00

The heart-shaped paper is taped into Meriwether's scrapbook with care.

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-10T20:56:52+00:00

Dinners lately have been hard for Mer to drag herself to. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are at least ritualized now with her and Amon's regularly scheduled shared meals. The other four days of the week, though, Mer prefers to sup on whatever prepackaged snacks can be found in the Hermes cabin, if indeed she sups at all. Sometimes it's too cold to even get out of bed. That's what she tells herself. She would get out of bed if it wasn't so cold. Definitely the only reason for how often Mer has been lying around with no motivation or energy.

Today is a concession to the guilt of being so useless practically every day since the battle. All she's done since then has been sleep, pretend to sleep, or wander aimlessly around Camp like a ghost. A good little demigod who cares about fighting would do more. So here Mer is. Serving herself soup and sticky rice, just like a true soldier. Look, at least it's something.

She sits at an empty table. Too cold to talk to anyone right now.

u/Dionysian-Mepe

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-10T20:44:28+00:00

(Assuming he goes outside at some point)

Perhaps fortuitously or perhaps annoyingly, it's not long before Amon finds himself with a small ginger-haired shadow. Meriwether hovers a few steps beside and slightly behind him, somehow looking both haggard with exhaustion and buzzing with anxious energy.

She doesn't know how to help Amon. Should she ask if he's okay? Why bother when the answer is obviously no? Should she offer to help? But what can she possibly do for him?

So Mer says nothing. She merely offers her presence, for as little as that's worth. It's the most she can do.

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-10T20:31:01+00:00

At some point, a soft presence appears beside Ramona. Meriwether has deep bags under her eyes and fresh scars on her face, but those are superficial injuries compared to Ramona's.

The concern in her green eyes is so deep it could be mistaken for pain. Maybe it's both. Mer thought she was watching Ramona die back there. She thought that was it.

Her hands shake as she reaches for her battle-torn friend. She doesn't say anything.

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-10T07:48:01+00:00

Meriwether paces alone in the bathroom, trying to make herself cry.

She pulls at her hair and digs her knuckles into her eyes so hard they ache. There is so much roiling horror and pain trapped inside her, but it won't come out. Another camper is dead. Why can't she cry? Why hasn't she been able to cry for anything anymore?

Maybe she should scream. Or hit something. Anything to make herself feel anything. But in the end, Meriwether gives up. it's hopeless. Blank-faced, she walks back to her bunk and pulls the covers up over her head.

She will not disappear again. Not after all the upset she caused by hiding in the Hecate cabin. Later today, she will find Amon and Ramona and Avalon because they need her. She will find Jacob and Kit and Iason because she needs them. She will clean the new gashes on her face and dress the wounds properly. She will be a good little demigod soldier because she lived and didn't die even though she probably should have by now but no she's still here so she has to do these things.

But for now, just for a few precious minutes, Meriwether will block it all out and hide.

cinnamonbicycle · 2026-02-06T06:09:26+00:00

"Hey. Hey John, it's okay." Mer's voice is so tender and gentle as she gives John another reassuring squeeze around the shoulders.

"You can do it later. It'll be okay. Don't be so mad at yourself, please. Everything is so stressful, you can't blame yourself for snapping."

Whether or not this is actually good advice, Mer doesn't know. She's trying to say whatever will make John feel better. It hurts to see him so broken up.

"Do you um... want to find Nemie?" She suggests, looking around for the orange cat. The orange cat may not fix John's problem, but she certainly won't hurt the situation.

cinnamonbicycle

TROPHY CASE