HEAVY IS THE HEAD ━ connor stoll

𝟬𝟲 the midseason american backpacking tour

"To be honest," Verona paused, pointing towards the exit, which Connor took without a second thought. She bit her lip, reflecting on the past few hours — a monster attack, a stolen car and an unconscious demigod was one way to start and end the day. She huffed out a breath. "I don't even know what my mother's girdle looks like."

Connor's head swivelled towards her face for a moment, shock encompassing his features before he cursed as a car honked at him when he slightly swerved out of his lane, adjusting the car back into position. "Are you—" His tone started off in a loud hiss before he glanced back in the mirror at Fay and Emilia and bought it down. "Are you kidding me?"

"I—"

"We're on a quest for a girdle that you don't even know the physical description of? What the hell, Blaze?" Connor glared at Verona, turning into the motel six parking lot. He sighed, calming down a little as he finished parking the car and stared at the vivid, colourful sign — the letters e and l were flickering on and off repeatedly so it looked more like mot camont than motel claremont. Baltimore was quiet at night and the motel was encompassed by surrounding trees on a deserted road, not many cars in the parking lot — maybe two or three. Every now and then he could see a car pass by the one way road out of the motel and the sound of the crickets surrounded Verona and Connor as they reached into the back to wake up Fay, telling him to wake Emilia and take her to get some food from the vending machine while they got a room.

Connor paused near the entrance to the small, dingy door of the reception area of the motel, his long steps causing her to have to run to catch up. His face was lit up vividly by the flashing motel sign, his brown eyes stuck on her features for a moment and Verona gulped at the intense look in them. He sighed, placing his hand on the knob to the door, reading to twist it open. "I — I'm sorry. I know this isn't the easiest quest." He opened the door and walked in before she could answer, so Verona followed after him, running a hand through her hair and rubbing her eyes to stay awake — it had been almost eighteen hours since she last slept and her legs were beginning to give out on her.

"Okay, look—" Verona ignored his apology, not really knowing exactly how to answer it. Connor rarely apologized to her, almost never — not that she ever apologized to him. It was like they had a mutual agreement that whatever they did was what it was, and wouldn't be spoken of again. "There's got to be a library somewhere around here with computers we can use — maybe we can go in the morning and try to do some research on this stupid girdle—" The sky echoed with the sound of thunder despite it being completely clear, and Verona flared up at it. "—to figure out what it is. Mythology has to be somewhat accurate even historically online."

"What if that's how monsters find—" Connor started.

"We'll do it as quickly as we can," Verona stated, cutting him off. "Besides, we can't really go anywhere until Emilia is fully awake and conscious again and she probably won't be for a while — two of us can go tomorrow morning while one of us stays with her."

"Sounds like a plan," Connor said, approaching the dingy counter of the motel where an elderly woman was sitting on the other side of the counter, her veiny hand holding a lit cigarette limply in it's grasp. The place was creaking with the sound of the wind and Verona was sure that just one strong push from a mighty cyclops or a hellhound and this whole thing would topple right over — the walls were stained with water damage and half the vending machines completely unlit due to lack of power or the ability to work Verona wasn't sure. Connor stopped in front of the counter, his bag still sling across his shoulder as he placed one hand on the counter before picking it off again, shaking his head — Verona assumed it was probably either wet and damaged from water like the rest of the property. He turned it around to show her and she noticed cigarette ash lightly coating his fingers — she scrunched up her features.