Andrea was troubled. Trouble with a capital T. Slouching around the school hallways in a comfy t-shirt and jeans, with her nose stuffed in a magazine who's pages were haphazardly decorated with a rainbow of sticky tags. Each tag represented an option, the blue ones were possibilities, red's no-go's, and green's her favorites. So far anything with sleeves had been pegged as a definite.

Who would have figured that dress shopping could be so burdensome? This dress shows too much back; that one too much shoulder. What that one even a dress? It looked more like a glorified pillow case to her.

With a sigh, she flipped the page and broodily continued searching as she wandered along. The task she was currently dealing with was just too much for her to sit stuffed up in her room while doing it. All of the wiggling in the world couldn't get her to sit still, and she'd already chewed through all of Saph's pencils to try and calm her nerves.

Persi was also troubled, though he tended not to designate it in terms of capitals. Of course, anyone else asked to describe him at the time (that knew about recent events, anyway, which was turning out to be a disturbing number of people) probably would have added some sort of emphasis to 'troubled,' and possibly several other descriptions, but Persi wasn't inclined to. Personally, he'd just describe himself as confused, and maybe kind of unnerved.

It had seemed like a really clear order. Near-death followed by constant pain seemed like a pretty logical lead in to the order to be in pain and die. Only he hadn't died, and for a while he thought he was just supposed to have injured himself and then been in pain longer and died later, only he already didn't hurt any more (more than had become normal in the last month), and... Persi had no clue what that meant. That he hadn't tried hard enough? That he couldn't try hard enough, and God was just informing him it was impossible? That he needed to find a different way to die?

It didn't make sense.

Persi didn't exactly want to think about it, but he couldn't seem to stop, either, and he did want to figure it out. Or at least, he did now; that probably wouldn't stay true once he understood. Still, it was really awkward to think about it around Aiden; Persi was pretty sure that if either of them ever learned to read minds it would be Persi, but it still seemed uncomfortable to think about around Aiden. Sure, Persi knew he was right, but he also knew that Aiden didn't know, and upsetting people for no reason wasn't something he particularly enjoyed doing. Not that Aiden should be upset, since he wouldn't even know what Persi was thinking, but it kept feeling like he might somehow know anyway. So Persi snuck out of his room and wandered around the Mansion to think.

...That may not have been a good idea. Upset Aiden was bad enough; upset Andrea was not something Persi was sure he could comprehend. Maybe he should just turn around and how she hadn't seen him... and couldn't tell what her snakes saw....

Something tickled at the back of her mind, and she glanced up over the edge of her magazine. Sloth had caught wind of Persi from within Andrea's curtain of hair. It took a moment of head swiveling before she found the source of the tickle.

"Oh... Persi?" Blinking, the Greek paused mid-step and stared his way. Had she wandered far from her room?

After a moment of confused silence, she recalled what she'd been up to only a moment before and a wide smile bloomed across her face. "Persi!" Nearly skipping over to him with book in hand, she couldn't wide the giddy, stupid grin from her lips. "Hello, Blake! It has been a while, has it not?" Wiggling to herself, she struggled with the urge to keep her secret a secret just a liiitle longer.

"I am getting married!"

She lost. With a happy squeal, she jerked forward in an attempt to hug the poor boy to death and share her glee with him.

Well that was clearly too late. Hard to pretend you hadn't heard your own name, after all. Though the hesitant tone and immediate tense silence made Persi really wish he was able to.

...Andrea was smiling? Persi blinked in confusion at the cheerful tone that followed. Uh...? What?

"It has...." Which made it really unlikely that this was a coincidence and Andrea somehow hadn't heard what Persi had done, only she was acting like she didn't, but she might just be happy that he'd tried because she was forgiving like that, but it didn't seem quite like her, and she'd called him Blake and Persi had been feeling a lot more like Blake recently but he didn't think she could read minds and--

"I am getting married!"

Oh. Well that, uh... explained things?

And then Persi did not have to be confused, because he was busy being squished by a happy Gorgon. He squeaked, though it probably went unheard under her squeal. "Uh, congratulations!" Oh good he could breath. That was always a concern with hugs. "Um, who are you marrying?" That was a good question, right? He didn't know who she was marrying, right? Persi hoped he didn't, anyway, and hoped that he could continue hiding his burned hand casually behind his back.

Grin stretching from ear to ear, regardless of her pointed teeth, she bounced on her heels and held onto his sleeves gently. "Saphirus and I are engaged. I'm looking at dresses right now but... oh!" Her eyes went wide momentarily and she stared at him, before stuffing her nose back into her book and flipping hastily through pages.

"What do you think of this one?" She held the magazine out at him, either expecting him to take it or to lean in and look at the picture she'd marked. The Dress was currently her favorite.

"You don't think it's to... I dunno, conservative, do you?" She chewed on her lip innocently, and fiddled with her hair with her free hand. "Most dresses these days just do not seem appropriate for a wedding, you know? They all lack backs... and shoulders... and sleeves. And have you seen how low some of the busts dip?"

Oh lord, she was rambling. Her nerves were showing through as if she were transparent.

Well that explained... not much? Actually it just confused Persi more. Saphirus? Like, Saph? The pig? Why would Andrea (or anyone, but at the moment the question was about Andrea) be marrying a pig, whether it was possessive of clothes or not? That probably was not an appropriate question, but Persi would really like to know.

It wasn't appropriate, though, so Persi leaned over to look at the dress. He really did not pay much attention to wedding fashion, but he'd take Andrea's word for what was wrong with modern dresses. And dresses that lacked, from the sound of it, most of the top half would be pretty disturbing, especially at a wedding. Weren't weddings supposed to be formal and classy and stuff, not... anything associated with lacking clothing?

Well, the dress Andrea was pointing to was much better than the ones she'd been complaining about, anyway. "It looks like something a princess would wear." At least, as far as Persi knew. Maybe a queen? He really didn't pay much attention to dresses.

...Oh, who cared if it was a rude question? People did not marry pigs. Especially not nice people like Andrea. "And, um... Saphirus is like Saph, right? Your pig? That's possessive of clothes and everything?"

"A... Princess? Oh dear." Andrea was not royalty. Far from it. Would it be acceptable to wear a dress far too good for her for the wedding? Pursing her lips, she brought the book back and stared at the picture. Maybe Persi was right... Maybe it was too--

"And, um... Saphirus is like Saph, right? Your pig? That's possessive of clothes and everything?"

She blinked at him over the lip of the magazine, confused at first. What on earth was he talk...ing...about.

Oh dear.

Her face flushed five different shades of brown instantaneously. She had completely forgotten about that lie! As the memory of how and why it had come up, she was suddenly all sorts of embarrassed and guilty at getting caught like that.

"Um... well... not entirely." Fidgeting, the Greek glanced around for a way out before deciding that biting the bullet in this case might just be best. She certainly didn't want everyone thinking her groom was a pig.

Defeated, she cast her eyes down at her feet and fiddled with her book nervously. "Um, the truth is that Saphirus is not my pig. He is actually my fiance, was my boyfriend before. My pig's name is Miss Piggy..."

Andrea glanced at Persi guiltily, and cleared her throat. "I... um... well, I did not want you to know, because it is very inappropriate for Saph and I to have been living in the same room together before we are married..."

"What's wrong with princess?" Persi was pretty sure that girls were supposed to like the idea of being princesses. Maybe he was supposed to have said queen instead, since Andrea was an adult?

...Persi kept forgetting that Andrea turned brown when she blushed. It was really weird to watch. Although it would probably be easier to draw....

"Uh... okay, so why...?" Oh. Um, okay? Persi supposed that made more sense than marrying a pig, anyway, so Persi was just not going to question any more. "Um...." He brushed his hair back out of his face. "I think that like, being in the same room is okay, as long as you're not, um, doing anything else? Because otherwise you wouldn't be able to talk to him to be engaged to begin with. So I think living in the same room is probably okay...."

...Damn it that was the wrong hand. Persi dropped it back behind his back as quickly as he could and hoped Andrea hadn't noticed.

Her worries about the dress being to regal were swept away by Persi's next statement.

"I think that like, being in the same room is okay, as long as you're not, um, doing anything else? Because otherwise you wouldn't be able to talk to him to be engaged to begin with. So I think living in the same room is probably okay...."

"... Doing... anything?"

Her flush darkened in color, and she gripped her magazine maybe just a little too tightly. The rest of what Blake had said was lost on her while she struggled inwardly with what he possibly could have meant.

Her eyes tracked his hand as it had brushed the hair from his face, and as it was on it's way back down. She didn't realize why exactly she was staring at it until it was back safely behind him. Something about it had looked... wrong. Injured maybe?

"Oh, Blake... Are you hurt?" She stepped forward, all awkwardness from before already forgotten and attempted to look around him and spy his hand again.

Okay, so apparently that was also not the right thing to say. Persi was messing up even more than usual recently. He was kind of okay with that at the moment though, because really, how observant could anyone be while blushing and hiding behind their magazine?

...Very observant, apparently. Persi squeaked as Andrea leaned around to look at his hand, and tried to turn himself so it was still hidden. It probably was not very successful, at least on the subtlety scale. "Um, not really? I'm okay. It doesn't hurt or anything."

Didn't hurt? Blake turned from her, and she went from staring at the patchwork of scars she was sure she saw, to staring at him. How on earth could something like that not hurt? Her chest still ached every now and then where her scars were.

"Blake..." His name came out accompanied by a tone she usually only reserved for Saph.

"That certainly did not look okay to me. What happened to you? How did you get hurt?" Searching his face for a moment, she eventually gave up on that and went back to trying to get a better look as his injury. Had he even gone to a doctor for it? Was that why he said it didn't bother him? Hmm, perhaps if she just darted behind him really quickly he'd be sufficiently startled by it and she'd be able to get a hold of his hand? It'd work on her, at least, so the Greek figured it'd be worth a try.

Darting suddenly, without much warning, she attempted to get behind him again and reached for his hand. And, darnit, if that didn't work she was started to feel like she'd have to resort to freezing him on the spot just so she could make sure he was alright!

"Um. Persi?" This was probably not the time to be correcting Andrea about what name not to call him, but it was the only distraction he could think of. "Please?" Persi had heard that tone before. Well, mostly Blake had heard that tone before, but either way it never meant anything good. Even compared to most conversations.

"It, um, was burned?" On purpose, but Persi wasn't sharing that detail if Andrea didn't already know it. "It's healed now though, it's fine, it just--" looks bad was replaced by a squeak as she suddenly jumped around him, and grabbed Persi's arm.

Really, freezing Persi after that point wouldn't be needed; he was pretty effectively frozen himself. His sleeves weren't that loose, they should stay up unless she thought to move them, so hopefully she wouldn't...?

Persi was really going to have to learn to control his expressions better. Keeping secrets was kind of difficult when he panicked every time someone asked about it....

Ah-ha! She'd gotten him! With his hand secured her her's she set about inspecting the mysterious scar--

Oh...

It wasn't just a small patch of scars, was it? Not the kind you'd get from burning yourself on the stove, or accidentally cutting yourself with scissors. What on earth could have even made scars like that?

The magazine she'd been fawning and worrying over dropped from her hands as Persi became her number one concern. Eyeing the old, healed wounds, she followed them up until they vanished under his sleeve. A frown settled on her lips and without asking, Andrea reached up to move the fabric away.

"Persi... what happened?" The stern tones she'd used only moments before were replaced with worry and sadness. Had this been an accident? Chemicals, or.. or what? Had someone done this to him on purpose? She looked him in the eyes, her's hidden behidn her glasses with her brows drawn together in concern.

"Did someone hurt you?"

"Um...." Persi tried, vaguely, to pull his hand back and pick up Andrea's magazine for her when she dropped it, but it wasn't very effective. If he even got around to it before she moved his sleeve and he froze completely again. Maybe... maybe she wasn't looking from the right angle and she wouldn't notice the scars from what he'd cut? The cross didn't start right at his wrist, and there were burns on the back of his hand too, she could be looking at those....

Andrea might be trying to look at his eyes, but Persi was far too busy staring at the floor to notice. "Um...." He couldn't lie, could he? Lying was wrong, to start with, and Andrea was nice; Persi didn't want to lie to her. But he also didn't want to upset her--more--but then he couldn't think of any lie that would be at all believable anyway. Everyone else he'd just told varying amounts of the truth. "Not... really... sort of?" Persi counted as someone, right? Please just stop asking, you don't want to know anyway....

She stared at him after his answer to her had fully sank in. "I'm taking you to Doc Prof." She answered back. The good doctor had way of seeing how things had happened, and while she wasn't exactly sure if he would be able to work his magic on wounds that were already healed, she was determined to find out at the very least. Maybe if she caused enough of a fuss they'd be able to find some kind of a psychic or truth-mutant or... or something!

Her heart was already pounding away inside her chest; she was worried half to death for the poor boy in front of her. She turned his arm over instinctively, like looking a child over from top to bottom when he only has a scraped knee, and her breath caught in her throat. There were scars here as well. Lines. Not from burns. Lines. One of her hands drifted to her chest, hovering over where the scars she carried lay.

"Oh, Persi... You must tell me what happened. Someone did not maybe-sort-of hurt you. Someone really, very truly hurt you!" How... how could something like this have happened to him?

Images from how she'd earned her own scars drifted back, and a bead of sweat rolled down the back of her neck.