Apollo was immediately bored of following the arrows. "Where do these even go?" He muttered, beginning to think this was a bad idea. But Apollo wasn't one to give up quite that easily. After quite a long while of following arrows, he saw someone ahead of him. "Hello?" He called again.
Icarus whirled, golden eyes flying to Apollo. "Oh." He bit his lip. "You're…back?" He asked slowly, cocking his head a little bit. He ran a hand through his hair nervously.
"I did say that I would be," Apollo answered with a smile. "This place is confusing."
Icarus let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, no shit." He replied, shaking his head a little bit. "My father designed it to be." I haven't seen the world unobstructed by walls in four years.
"Your… father designed this?" Apollo asked, confused. "Your father designed his own prison?" Gods, what an awful life that would be.
"Yes. For the Minotaur." Icarus replied slowly. "It was supposed to be unsolvable. And then…that hero solved it, and he and I were put inside it as punishment, since it was supposed to not be solvable, and it had been solved." He shook his head.
"Ah," Apollo stared at the ground, processing the information. "So you didn't even have anything to do with it? You're just stuck here."
"Yes." Icarus replied simply, shrugging. He squinted up at the sky for a moment, then looked at Apollo again. He shook his head a little bit.
"Wings, that's what you need," Apollo decided. "To get you out of here. They're quite fashionable these days, as well."
Icarus blinked slowly. "I…yes, wings would be lovely, but I am only human, Apollo. I can't just fly like you can." he crossed his arms.
Apollo nodded. He hadn't really thought about that. "Well you could… just - just build them. You're smart, right?"
"I am not…I can't build like my father can." Icarus replied. "I could design, but I am not…he does not share his building materials." he shrugged slightly.
"Well, design it, then," Apollo suggested. "And I'll bring your materials." There would be some sort of… feathers, right? And something to hold the feathers together, and… something to attach the wings. It couldn't be difficult to get those.
Icarus shook his head quickly. "No, you can't. My father would…he designs, and I test them out when asked." he ran a hand through his dark curls.
Apollo sighed, frustrated. "Well, obviously, your father isn't getting close enough, as you're still here. You design something and then slip the ideas into conversation so that your father thinks he was the one who designed it."
Icarus shook his head again. "No, that doesn't…that's not how it works with him." he replied, a little frustrated, but not going to show it.
Apollo leaned his head back against the wall, harder than he meant to. "Well, then, how in the name of Zeus are you supposed to get out?"
Icarus shrugged. "I don't know. My father will figure it out." He replied slowly.
"Really?" Apollo asked, raising an eyebrow. "And how close is he to doing that?" He had a feeling that Icarus put too much faith in his father.
"I don't know. He doesn't tell me." Icarus replied, shaking his head a little bit. "But he can do it."
"Are you aware of how ridiculous that sounds?" Apollo asked skeptically. "'He won't tell me how he's doing with getting us out of a literal prison, but I'm sure it's going well.' Doesn't seem logical."
Icarus flinched a little, face shutting down. He turned away. "Well I don't see you offering any bright ideas, mr high and mighty." He retorted coldly.
Apollo stared, holding back a laugh. "I've been offering ideas for the past 10 minutes, most of which could potentially work; you just won't take them. And as for high and mighty, I am quite literally both."
"Ideas, but not bright ones, sun God." Icarus replied. "And I know you're literally both. It wasn't a compliment."
Apollo rolled his eyes. He usually just killed people who spoke to him like that, but that was obviously not going to happen. "You say that as though your singular 'idea' was better than mine."