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[ { "author": "Maliketh Kargath, The Inspector Demon", "message": "```The first day of the Inspection Year had started. In his dark and crimson penthouse, Maliketh Kargath, the Inspector Demon, prepared for his first afternoon. He put on his fine and nearly regal red suit- picked out the fancy tie he'd wear for today- and picked up his Shutting staff. He hummed to himself in his radio static voice and walked around his office room in circles.```\n\n\"***Before I begin I must free my mind. But what's the best way...***\" ```Maliketh spoke to himself as if he was crazy. He kept pacing until he finally had an idea of how he could get things off his chest. He walked over to his black matte office chair and sat in it. He was not one for making phone calls unless it was urgent, so instead he wrote a letter. With his black and red style, he even wrote a black letter with glowing red ink. After writing the rather lengthy letter, he called up a servant of his to deliver it personally. Now, all Maliketh could do was wait. He sat in his living room patiently while never losing his large smile..```" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "**Spending an early morning cleaning her office she was taking the time to make sure her working space looked as clean as possible for the coming day's appointments. Her desk was wiped down and removed of clutter while she made sure the pillows on her couch were puffed up as well as the cushions being comfortable as well... Humming in relaxation as she was finished... Now just waiting for her first appointment**" }, { "author": "Alexandar, The Butler", "message": "```The servant that Maliketh sent was a man in a fancy suit- strawberry blonde hair and beard. After about 30 minutes, a few loud knocks sounded at her office door. Impatiently, 3 more knocks sounded with a low grown coming from the other side of the door.```" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "**Hearing the knocks she checked the clock with a squint- it was a tad too early to be her first appointment, sliding her chain over the door and opening it partially to see who it was banging so early in the day**" }, { "author": "Alexandar, The Butler", "message": "\"**Ahem-**\" `The man cleared his throat and in his right hand he held a black letter.` \"**I have a letter for a Ms... C-Cudell?**\" `He asked for her. He adjusted his suit and adjusted his tie.`" }, { "author": "kingnan69", "message": "I be sorting through family stuff so my replies may be a teeny bit late" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "**She took the letter and shut the door** You've found her, thank you. **She leaned against the door and hummed. Examining the letter before going to her office to use a letter opener to view the contents***\n\n**Admiring the letter's construction she nodded happily and hummed... Dialing up the number to confirm the appointment, sitting on her desk and leaning back**" }, { "author": "Maliketh Kargath, The Inspector Demon", "message": "`Maliketh heard a distant ringing. He got up and elegantly moved his legs one infront of the other until he reached his office. He slid onto his chair and kicked his feet up on the desk.` \n\n\"**Yes yes, Maliketh the Inspector how can I assist you today?**\" `Maliketh lengthened his words a little and kept his huge exaggerated teethy smile. He kept the phone by his ear.`" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "Hello! Yes this is Foxi Cudell, I received a letter just now from you requesting a session is this correct? I do need to clarify I do have other sessions taking place and can't drop everything for just one person." }, { "author": "Maliketh Kargath, The Inspector Demon", "message": "`His exaggerated smile became a much more real one as he got clarification that she was indeed Foxi Cudell. He cleared his throat softly.` \"**Indeed I am the one who requested the personal session yes, yes. Is it possible for you to come by? I don't want to disturb you if you are having your own personal time at all.**\" `After speaking he let out a muffled chuckle. He listened intently for her reply.`" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "I am currently booked for the nxt few days, though I'm sure we can work out an opening for next week? **She leaned on her desk, tail swaying and twirling the cord between her fingers**" }, { "author": "Maliketh Kargath, The Inspector Demon", "message": "`Maliketh tilted his head.` \"**Well. I'm sure you know the year darling, i'm sure you can set aside some other folk.**\" `Maliketh took a quiet and long inhale and exhale. His hand gripped his desk a little as he awaited her to speak.`" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "I pride myself on my refusal to give in to the pushing of betters, I will not succumb to you either... **She hummed. Taking a seat on her desk taking a deep breath as she said that- waiting for a likely enraged response**" }, { "author": "Maliketh Kargath, The Inspector Demon", "message": "`Maliketh didn't speak for a moments. Instead, a few quiet breaths came out before he spoke.` \"**Well then, when can we have ourselves a meeting? I am open to other days as long as I am not too busy checking on other businesses. *I do hope our meeting can be arranged to be earlier*, but I will leave that for you to arrange.**\" `Maliketh's voice was awfully kind and almost endearing. His voice was too kind.`" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "**She shivered at the bitterness hidden under the kind tone... Humming and sliding over her date planner...** I can meet you in 3 days at noon. That is the earliest I can do with some shifting of appointments. I will make no more compromisation than that." }, { "author": "Maliketh Kargath, The Inspector Demon", "message": "`Maliketh's possible psychotic breaths followed suit in response. He chuckled under his breath while talking,` \"**Oh-ho yes, that would be *Just wonderful*.**\" `Maliketh's voice got a little bit quieter.` \"**Thank you, Ms Cudell. I am looking forward to our future meeting. Good day, and good luck on your *Other appointments* That you have arranged.**\" `Maliketh couldn't help but keep his happy chuckle behind his teeth going for a few more seconds.`" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "Then I'll see you in three days mister Kargath. Until then... **She sighed... Putting her phone back on the reciever and pinching the bridge of her nose**" }, { "author": "Maliketh Kargath, The Inspector Demon", "message": "\"***Bye bye..***\" `Maliketh hung up the phone and sighed. He stood up and put the phone back down. He got prepared and went with the day as usual...`" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "**Humming as she came in she had her coat over her arm along with a journal and recorder in her other hand, coming into the hotel with a bit of shock with the lavish appearance, how had she even ended up on the radar of someone so renowned- pushing the thoughts aside she entered the room... Looking at who she'd be treating with a soft hum to get his attention** Mr. Maliketh I presume" }, { "author": "Maliketh Kargath, The Inspector Demon", "message": "```Maliketh looked over at her and stood up within seconds. He held out his pale hand for a handshake and had a large smile on his face. His red suit was well kept and tailored, and everything about him seemed pristine.``` \n\"**Oh yes- that is me. You may call me Mr Maliketh, Mr Kargath, Inspector, whatever suits your fancy really.**\" ```Maliketh blinked his eyes at her to keep up a moderately charming style to himself.```" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "I'll settle on Mr. Maliketh, though I do hope we can drop the formal during later sessions... Do you want to take a seat? **She shook his hand... Trying her best to not get too intimidated... Looking up with a flick of her ears showing her discomfort**" }, { "author": "Maliketh Kargath, The Inspector Demon", "message": "\"**Of course! I'm sure we'll be quite close when we are finished.**\" ```Maliketh's hand was soft and gentle as he shook her hand. He looked a little down at her before letting go of the handshake.```\n\n\"**May I get you a drink of some sort? A soft drink, cold drink, hot drink? Maybe get a servant to make some food?**\" ```Maliketh offered and sat down on the soft black couch that wrapped around in a huge L shape. He had a large tv and a large coffee table with candles on it for lighting aesthetic.```" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "I don't think it's necessary, today is a preliminary... I need to assess what we're going to be working on and plan out our method for your treatment... Though I can see already you like being in control of your environment, why is that" }, { "author": "Maliketh Kargath, The Inspector Demon", "message": "```Maliketh nodded snd stayed sat down. He poured himself the last bit of tea that he had and took a sip. He pointed over to the extended bit of the couch for her to sit on supposing she wanted to.```\n\n\"**Well, I like being in control of my environment because you should never loosen too much control especially in your own home. I'm just trying to be cautious you know.**\" ```Maliketh took another sip of his drink and placed it down on the gorgeous plate. He looked at her attentively. Perhaps his cautiousness was a result of something else, or maybe it was just his preference of going about things..```" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "**She stepped around the couch... Running her hand along it before taking a seat, humming softly...** Does it stem from a place where you lacked control then. A difficult home life perhaps. **She took a plate, throwing it on the floor while still looking at him** A place where you had no control over your environment." }, { "author": "Maliketh Kargath, The Inspector Demon", "message": "```Maliketh looked at the plate and then at her. He was silent for at least a minute before talking.```\n\n\"**Mm.. My father was.. A *Busy* Man. And with his busyness, he never came home the happiest. Even then I worked in a horrible job that bossed people around like peons. And so I decided to make my own path.**\" ```Maliketh did not sip his tea this time. He looked past her before his eyes fell on her again.```" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "**She nodded proudly..** How did that feel, that lack of control just now when I smashed your plate. What went through your mind when I did." }, { "author": "Maliketh Kargath, The Inspector Demon", "message": "```Maliketh chuckled behind his lips. He returned to having his grin.``` \"**Any other person who did that would definitely be in trouble. Yet it doesn't excuse how I feel inside. That was a nice plate.**\" \n\n```Maliketh's teethy grinned returned but it was not as large when she first walked in. He sat back a little and crossed his leg over the other.```" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "I'll be sure to subtract its cost from your fee, **She hummed as she sat back down. Looking at him curiously while tapping her foot** What kind of business did your father do." }, { "author": "Maliketh Kargath, The Inspector Demon", "message": "```Maliketh tilted his head at her.``` \"**He was a multi worker. He worked as a barman at a brothel, a broker on weekends, and worked at home sometimes. He never had time to chill out or spend time with us.**\" \n\n```Maliketh's smile faded a little bit, but not enough to make him look unhappy.``` \"**And now even though I work one huge job, it feels as if I carry the stress from him working all 3 everyday.**\" ```Maliketh took a sip, and he was nearly finished with his tea.```" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "you're burdened by his view of the world? You feel the need to work just as hard as him to live up to his legacy?" }, { "author": "Maliketh Kargath, The Inspector Demon", "message": "```Maliketh looked over at her and shook his head.``` \"**No. His legacy is only important due to his wealth, while I am looking to make my own and follow my own path. However, I feel as if I have burdened his stress by doing so. He doesn't need to work, hell he is living far away and is retired! While I haven't done anything besides work and live. No important people in my live, my father doesn't even permit me to go back home to see my mother at all, so i'm stuck here.**\" \n\n```Maliketh tapped his sharp finger on his cup.```" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "**She hummed and decided to apply more pressure once she saw him getting on edge...** If you desire to make your own path why does his permission mean so much to you, why does he need to give you permission to see your own mother hm?" }, { "author": "Maliketh Kargath, The Inspector Demon", "message": "```Maliketh's smile dropped and he sighed.``` \"**Seeing as he's someone I wouldn't mess with, I don't want to go back to him. He's a psychopath. A deranged man. I could not dare to even walk a hundred yards from his home.**\" \n\n```Maliketh looked down at his legs and took his last sip of his tea until it was gone.``` \"***It's all so, so challenging.***\" ```Maliketh murmured under his breath.```" }, { "author": "Foxi Cudell", "message": "what stops you from challenging him hm? You have all this power here in the city he certainly doesn't surpass that, do not let your trauma of the past turn into the chains of your present." }, { "author": "Maliketh Kargath, The Inspector Demon", "message": "```Maliketh looked at her and then at the ground. He looked back up at her again.``` \"**He's... A scary individual. He's an ancient. Despite not being at all involved with the city, he himself can threaten those in power. For a retired man who is sluggishly slow, he still gives me nightmares.**\" \n\n```Maliketh clapped his hands, which caused rummaging to occur in the kitchen. After about 30 seconds, a servant came out with more tea for Maliketh.``` \"**I do try to keep my past traumas away, but even then my present stress sometimes triggers it. I have some rest time when I am done inspecting a business, but everyday I have papers upon papers of work. For this whole year I have little to none personal time unless I can work faster the next day. Then for 50 years until the year comes back round, I am made to go back into law and spend more time doing papers and court work.**\" ```Maliketh was getting a bit agitated as he explained his working life.```" }, { "author": "simon_the_sassy_cardianal", "message": "It's better we stop" } ]

[ { "author": "camiioo", "message": "And then it's a little thread" }, { "author": "tristanator2", "message": "I'll start pasting the intro and then just paste it from there one by one\n\n***Ryn pushed me gently onto the couch, and I backed away blushing hitting the arm of the couch behind me looking up at her***" }, { "author": "camiioo", "message": "***I smiled and got on top of you, kissing your lips gently and starting to undo your pants~***" }, { "author": "tristanator2", "message": "***My moans were soft and brief, my hands resting on your hips for support~***\n\"W-wow it's getting hot in here isn't it? Just me? W-wait d-don't let it flop out so fast...\"" }, { "author": "camiioo", "message": "\"Aww, is someone feeling shy?\" \n***I bit my bottom lip, biting your neck softly and then sucking it after, making sure to leave a hickey~***\n\"That's so cute~\"" }, { "author": "tristanator2", "message": "***I couldn't help but moan softly, your lips and suction turning me on more~***\n\"I'm not c-cute... How am I cute? Why am I cute?~\"" }, { "author": "camiioo", "message": "\"Cause, you're so shy and nervous~\"\n***I pulled your pants down finally before you could say anything, smiling mischeviously, watching it flop out~***" }, { "author": "tristanator2", "message": "***I cover my eyes in embarrassment, blushing bright red, nervous on how you'll react~***\n\"I am *Not*!\"\n***Although there was much evidence to support the contrary, I remained shyly stubborn~***" }, { "author": "camiioo", "message": "\"You very much are~\"\n***I smile and start to kiss down your body passionately, then taking your cock in my hand gently and starting to stroke it, licking the tip slowly***\n\"Mm.. Don't know what you were so shy about~\"" }, { "author": "tristanator2", "message": "***Blushes, shivering slightly from the passionate kisses down my body, and your gentle strokes and licks seemed to cause me to blush even more***\n\"I-I mean... It's not like I have to be shy... I shouldn't be! As you say... Heh... T-that feels g-good Ryn...~\"" }, { "author": "camiioo", "message": "\"I'm glad it feels good~\"\n***I stroke him for a moment or two more, before starting to suck, without any warning~ I swirl my tongue around his cock as I suck, looking up at him to watch his reactions.***" }, { "author": "tristanator2", "message": "***My face contorts with pleasure, moaning deeply and throwing my head back***\n\"F-fuck Ryn...! K-keep doing that...\"\n***This felt incredible, the way her tongue swirled and the suction too? Divine. The two actions just seemed to make my mind go blank for a minute~***" }, { "author": "camiioo", "message": "***I continued, my saliva coating his cock completely~ Listening to his moans, she pulled her pants down and starting rubbing herself, pleasuring herself to his noises~***" }, { "author": "tristanator2", "message": "***Tries to muffle my moans to hide how much I'm enjoying it, watching you pleasure yourself just seemed to turn me on more, this was perfect~***" }, { "author": "camiioo", "message": "***I sucked for a little longer, before getting back on top of him, aligning myself with him, and lowering myself onto his cock, it sliding into me deep~ I moaned softly, my pussy tightening around his cock almost immediately~***" }, { "author": "tristanator2", "message": "***I moan softly in return and hold onto your hips, my eyes never leaving yours after gazing up at your body bouncing in front of me***\n\"Fuck you feel incredible Ryn~\"" }, { "author": "camiioo", "message": "\"You feel so good inside me..\"\n\n***I bounce myself up and down on your cock, my wetness dripping down it~ my tits bouncing in your face***\n\n\"F-fuck~\"\n\n***I gaze into your eyes as I ride you, biting my lip hard***" }, { "author": "tristanator2", "message": "\"I know... I can feel you dripping down it too..~\"\n***As you bounce up and down on my cock, I start to kiss you passionately, my hands massaging your breasts softly, squeezing them gently***\n***By pulling away, I see you biting your lip hard making me blush seeing this***" }, { "author": "camiioo", "message": "\"All for you~\"\n\n***I kiss back passionately, moaning at your touch~ i keep riding, starting to speed up a bit, my breath getting jagged~***\n\n\"F-fuck, this feels so amazing~\"" }, { "author": "tristanator2", "message": "***My breathing was intensifying, growing heavier with each bounce. This felt so good, your lips felt so soft, so deep, so beautiful***\n\"This feels so good~\"" }, { "author": "camiioo", "message": "***I kiss your lips again, biting your lip gently and tugging on it softly. My pussy starting to feel tighter around your cock, my legs starting to get weak, as I started to get closer~***" }, { "author": "tristanator2", "message": "***I look up into your eyes and receive your kiss with earnest desire, your soft biting adorable, I could tell that you were turned on, even if by a little bit. Your pussy tightening around my cock made me involuntarily moan, getting closer to my own orgasm as well***\n\"R-ryn... I'm close...~\"" }, { "author": "camiioo", "message": "***My moans got quick, my breathing more jagged~***\n\n\"L-let's.. Let's cum t-..Together, then~\"\n\n***My hands gripped onto your shoulders tight, pushing myself all the way down on your cock, moaning loud~ I came hard on your cock, my legs shaking, soaked in my own juices~***" }, { "author": "tristanator2", "message": "***I groan and moan together, feeling myself burst load after load from the pleasure, bringing your lips to mine to kiss passionately, my face flushed a deep shade of red. After pulling away slowly I look into your eyes and smile gently, stroking your cheek***\n\n\"Amazing...~\"" } ]

[ { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "Don't hi love me start stripping semi-literately." }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "Who do you think you're talking to like that~" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*Sighs and walks up to him, giving a small kiss to his lips while frowning at him* Strip.." }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*I look at you and hug you putting one of my hands near your neck whispering in your ear* Make me~" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*His body shivered and his face reddened a bit, now tugging onto his shirt.* Why're you being difficult 💢" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*Having a Evil smile on my face* Well I thought I was the bottom chéri~... What can't be a top now was all that big talk a lie?! *While I look in to your eyes smiling a smile of dominance*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*He frowned and let out another sigh, now walking back over to the bed and sitting down on it. He'd then start to remove his shirt, whilst looking away.. Waiting for him to come over. \"Idiot.. Ofc I was joking now hurry up..\" He said opening his legs just to reveal the bulge he had, poking through his pants*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*Giggling I walk towards you while you take of your shirt, I slowly get on top of you while our eyes meet each other I say \"Aww cariño you're so exited~\" As I carefully place my hand on to your chest... Slowly moving it to your bulge, as my hand reaches your dick I slowly and gently stroke it while I start to kiss your neck slowly*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*Once he walked towards me, and slowly started making his way on top of me I would give him a small but nervous smile.. His stomach was full of butterflies at the moment so he was a bit speechless. He watched as his hand was making its way down Hayden's chest.. Then his bulge. The gentle stroking caused him to flinch, now moving his head a little. Hayden couldn't help but to run his own hands up tae's shirt.. Being impatient.*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*Startled from Hayden's touch, Tae twitches a bit letting out a little moan.. Seeing you impatient He slowly makes his way in your pants and pulls our you dick, looking a bit flustered Tae pulls away from your arms... Slowly getting off of you and gets down from the bed.. He makes his way to your pants pulling them down revealing everything.. Tae hesitates a bit before grabbing your dick and strokes it while getting closer to it... As he's stroking it He looks at you with a bit of lust in his eyes*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*Lucia couldn't stop making eye contact with him, easily being turned on from the whole thing, especially his voice. He'd watch as he pulled his cock out of lucia's pants and watched his movements.. His face was a blushing mess now being embarrassed from the sudden exposure. The stroking caused his hips to move and thrust slowly, seeing that he wanted more and more from him. His eyes then traveled back to his making the contact with him once again whilst biting his lips. \"Mmm..\"*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*As Tae looks How much Lucia is enjoying himself he slowly moves his lips close to his cock while gently stroking it as he start to give it kisses he gets the urge to be rough but calms down looking at Lucia biting his lips made the feelings worse... As he pulls his head away a bit, Tae's mouth slowly opens a little looking intensely at Lucia's cock while it throbs...*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*Lucia was feeling really impatient and the slower he went the more bothering it got. \"Y... You're too slow 💢 it's killing me..\" Lucia said whilst pushing his head down a little.. His eyes kept watching and making eye contact with him waiting for something to happen.*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*As he gets caught off guard by it Tae moves a way a little \"H... Hey!!💢 \"What was that for?!\" As he look at him with a pouting face*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*He stared at his pouting face for a few minutes before also pouting. He still had his hands on top of his head, but instead of trying to move him closer he'd ruffle his hair.. \"Sorry.. My body just feels weird..\" Lucia said, blowing some of his white hair out of his own face*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*\"Oh is that so~\" As Tae begins to smile opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue. My hand slowly grabbing your cock while I slowly put it in my mouth.. Deep throating you while looking at you lustfully and with a smile, Your hand slowly getting on top of my head once more. \"Mhm~\" As Tae slowly nods his head up and down he moves his tongue around targeting your tip...*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*He watch as he'd start to open his mouth and insert my cock into his mouth.. Which was some sight to see. As he went all above and beyond by deep throating me, my body flinched and trembled, he couldn't help but to move his hips around from the weird sensation/feeling. Sweet noises escaped his mouth, now starting to grip on to the males hair but not too tight.. Just gently*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "Mhm... Fine I'll rp but you better be nice\n\n*As he started to go up and down, he started to Feel warm and Pleasurable about the sensation of your warm cock Twitching and throbbing in his mouth \"Hnng~\". He felt as you griped tightened a little, As I went up I started to tease you by licking your tip moving my saliva around And looking at you as a blush.*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*He'd stroke his red hair back just to move his hair out of the way.. He wouldn't usually accept this type of behavior in which he'd call a \"Whores work\" But his body has been getting the best of him for the past few days in which he couldn't help but to watch instead of pushing him away. The male thrusted his hips a little whilst biting his lip, and couldn't help but to push his head down a little more.. Trying not to gag him, though the pleasure spreading throughout his body was too much.. Even his face was completely red from the whole thing.*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*As he notices that he was pushing his head down He stopped him by grabbing his wrist, He sat up and let go of it \"Nuh uh you don't get to do that~\" As he giggled and laughed covering his mouth and closing his eyes... You looked annoyed and stressed \"Aww You look mad what are you gonna do about it Mutt?~\" As he said those words in a Flirtatious and breath taking way He darted his eyes meeting yours... He was challenging you to do something... Asserting dominance over you... Or so he thought...*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*Once he was stopped by the sudden grip to his wrists, his eyebrow perked up confused on why he did that. Ide saw that he was teasing and playing around with him, which was obvious but he didn't do anything nor have a reaction to it and just stared. He was in fact upset about it so he'd make eye contact with him for a couple of minutes before forcefully pushing the male back and onto his back, before making his way ontop of the male. \"Ugh.. You're really trying me aren't you. \" He said and starts grinding himself up against his cock. \"I... I've waited for too long so quit teasing me!.\"*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*\"H... Hey!!\" As Tae was startled, He soon notice that he was on his back... Taeju looked at you getting on top of him He felt a rush of a Nervous feeling came over him, He felt a Weird sensation Was felt when you started to grind against him \"W... Wait...!\" \"Y... You can't just ugh~\" As he slowly tried to get up as best as he could...\"*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*He was breathing heavily and couldn't help but to slide himself or his hips back and forth, over and over again. It felt like torture at this point which made him frown and tremble, ide felt weak and pathetic seeing that he was so desperate but at the same time he didn't care and just wanted more of him. He would continue the same movements repeatedly while looking down at him. \"You talk to m... Much..\" Ide mumbled as sweet moans would escape his mouth.*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*\"You dumbass Ahng~\" As Tae tried to release from his position he started to tremble getting weak and Hot... He started to breath hard and soft \"Ide H... Hold on\" He tried pushing him away almost getting away From him \"Just calm down Cheri ahh~...\" He covered his mouth To prevent any noises from coming out\"*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*As he continued to move his hips his body then started trembling even more from the weird sensation which had increased the pleasure, especially with him rubbing up against the male. Ide noticed that he was trying to push him away but he refused and just sat there, moving forward some more, his words and voice made his stomach all tingly and once the male covered his mouth he couldn't help but to lick the palm of his hand, moving his tongue in between his pinky and ring finger. \"Just a few more seconds..\" He said not stopping anytime soon... Not until he had made his move.*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*\"Mhm!~\" As he squirmed around trying to release from him \"H... HOLD ON IDE IF YOU KEEP THI- AGH\" He slowly felt his body getting weaker and and a strange feeling coming from his crotch... He Moved away from him for a sec, Just for him to get pinned down... Both hands stopped by his... \"W... What do you think you're doing M... Mutt💢?\"*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*As his tongue traveled along the palm of his hand and his fingers, his frown was more visible this time trying to keep him still. \"Sit still~!!\" He said but failed to stay on top of him. After a few minutes of fighting him basically he was finally pinned back to where he was before.. Right on to his own back. His eyes widened once he was on top of him, licking his lips a bit. \"Happy now that you're on top.. Gosh you're taking to long.\" Ide said now wrapping his legs around him and pulling him closer since his hands was occupied at the moment. \"I thought I could get this over with, having me ride you damnit but you keep refusing~!\" The red haired male said and gave him a once again small frown.*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*\"What you got a problem with me being Dominant💢\" As He said those words... He felt Ides legs locking him in place and pulling him closer, As he looked puzzled and worried he looked back at him \"Be a good little bitch and be patient You **Mutt**!!\" Looking at him with A smile of evil... A smile that shows how proud he is of teasing you. \"Aww look at your cock Cheri it's throbbing and leaking~\" As he giggled and leaned in for a kiss*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*He smiled at his little comment and couldn't help but to keep his eye contact with him.. The more he called him names the more turned on he was getting, not wanting to unwrap his legs from around him anytime soon. After he had spoke once again about his own member he'd look down watching himself leak and throb just like he said. He didn't worry much about it and without any hesitation he'd kiss him back, whilst moving his lips once again. \"Hot..\" He mumbled.*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*As their lips touched Tae Saw a smile on ides face he thought to himself •What is he smiling about... Mhm?! Did this bastard say \"Hot\"?💢• as They exchanged Their warmth, Tae slowly crept up his hand behind Ides Head and pulled him closer not leaving him gasp for air. After a few seconds of kissing Tae pulled away sitting up and looking at Ide not loosing eye contact... He moved his hands up to his knees making it slowly down rubbing his tights going down making their way to his hips*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*Ide's eyes closed slightly and would slowly wrap his arms around him, moving his tongue around with his. Small noises would escape him as he was now pulled in closer which was basically a deeper kiss than before. After a few seconds and their lips parted, he'd start breathing heavily having a now seductive look in his eyes.. His touch would send shivers down his spine. \"Strip..\" Ide said now being all heated up and out of it.*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*\"Strip?! Ha make me!💢\" As he looked Down on him like a peasant, He Grabbing his cock moving it slowly up and down as The pre cum started To leak more with each stroke.Moans escaped from Ides mouth He Tried to hold it in but whimpers Coming out of his mouth \"Aw You whimper just like a Dog\" He looked at him with a smile but it faded away... What soon was a smile on his face was soon traded for a confused look, Ide looked at Tae with anger But with a hellish Smile... He slowly plotted something to get on top and make him regret for all the teasing he did.*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*He was slightly annoyed from his response seeing that he was blue balling him down. His body flinched after feeling his hand wrap around his own cock, moving his hand up and down. He squealed and moaned a little, biting his lip.. Then after a few seconds the dog comment had annoyed him even more but tried to calm himself.. Even with an angry look on her face. \"S... Top!! Teasing and just || fuck me || already!\" Ide said and without any hesitation he sat up and sat onto the males lap, wrapping both his arms and legs around him.. Then bit his neck. \"F... Ucking..\" Ide muffled not wanting to call him an idiot.. Knowing what consequences would come with it.*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*As soon as he stood up Tae was startled and reacted to slow, Before he knew it Ide Wrapped a round... Ide opened his mouth biting his neck, Tae released a big moan of pleasure. \"I... Ide let go you dummy~💢\" As he said those words he felt himself getting hard \"Ide let g-go...\"*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*After he had told him to let go, Ide slowly opened his mouth, letting out a soft sigh. He was basically dying at this point. Instead of biting his lip, he licked Tae's lips while staring into his eyes. \"Please..\" Ide said grinding himself against his cock.*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*\"You desperate Mutt... Fine I'll let you fuck me💢\" \"L... Look away\" Tae started to Take of his clothes one by one, He felt embarrassed for it has been a while since he's been with someone. He walked to the bed Laying down Softly Waiting for Ide... The heat was getting to him he wanted Him all over him He was soaking with pre cum..\"H... Hurry up\"*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*The desperate look on his face had gave away everything, and yet he was excited now hopping off his lap so he could strip himself. He was going to look away but watched anyway, then after a while ide watched him walk himself back over to the bed laying himself down. Ide crawled back on top of the male, not wasting anytime and wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking tae a bit before inserting only the tip inside. His body trembled letting out loud and gentle moans, letting his cock slide itself into him. \"Nnngh... Big dummy... Mmm\"*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*He watched as the Male insert His dick inside of himself it was a embarrassing yet Hot scene..\"Ahh~ y... You dumbass~\" Tae Was pouting \"H... Hurry up Idiot...\" As he looked away from Ide avoiding eye contact, Taeju was really embarrassed He tried not to move a lot because He had a fear of Being punished if he did Try and toy with him again.*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*He stopped moving for a bit just to relax himself since he forget to loosen himself up. \"Y-you're too big, give me a second!.\" Ide said then would quickly force himself down.. Now having tae's whole cock inside of him. Salvia would run down his chin and his eyes would roll back a little from both the heat and pleasure spreading throughout his body. \"Mmmg f... Fuck tae...!\" Ide whined letting out louder moans, he felt pathetic and submissive which was quite embarrassing for him.. But that didn't stop him from bouncing up and down.*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*As Tae Saw Ide slide His cock penetrating Him in one go, listening to Ide moan, got him more hard he slowly started to grow even more from the inside... He watched as the Male bounced up and down seeing his cock getting gulped up by him \"I... Ide F... Fuck slow down\" He tried to stop ide but he was fed up from all the teasing he's been through and pins down his hand moving faster and faster*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*Desperate gasps leaked from his lips once he felt his cock growing picked inside of him, the sounds were so unfamiliar that Ide couldn't believe they were his. His hips then started to move up and down somewhat faster.. But then slow, now starting to feel it.. Which was a weird. He smiled nervously after hearing his voice and after a few minutes he was now pinned down. His moans were louder this time, still holding onto him and moving his hips while he was pounding away. \"Mmmm!! M... More!! P-please!\"*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*\"F... Fine\" He said those words while he turned away from him avoiding eye contact since he couldn't hold it especially in this state, He watched as Ide pleaded for more as he moves his hips up and down while he had a sinister grin of pleasure, Tae tried to Release from his grip but it was no use since he was weakened and overcome by this weird feeling that he didn't want to end*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*It was obvious to see that Ide was extremely turned on at the moment. He was focused on his hip movements while his legs were slowly starting to spread even more, his breathing was getting heavier and heavier and his face was reddening even more.. Starting to look more like a tomato than an actual strawberry. He covered his face with both his hands, not being able to hold in his moans.. Feeling more pleasure and weak from the feeling of him thrusting in and out of him.*" }, { "author": "urza0_0", "message": "*He looked at Ide getting turned on and trying to stay quiet. Tae doesn't know why but he embraced it, He grabbed on to Ide's hips pushing Them down aggressively and fast \"Te gusta Cuando Te hago esto Cariño\" As he looked at him waiting for him to make a sound... \"Aren't you gonna make a sound dear?~\"*" }, { "author": "officialmuffinz", "message": "*Once he heard his voice and words that came out of his mouth, butterflies would slowly form into his stomach now moving his hips a little more after he felt him move faster. He'd undercover his face but still kept his focus on the males cock below, now placing his fingers into his own stomach. \"M... Mhm..\" Ide said and bit his lip. \"I... M s... Sorry..\". He wasn't able to speak clearly.. Letting out small sounds.*" } ]

[ { "author": "Malforn", "message": "*Enters.* Here it is." }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "*Looks around* Woww it looks so cool" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "Thanks, don't look in the drawer though. That's my entire sex toy collection and you'd probably faint." }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "Well now i have too *Opens droor*\n\nThats- alot of- woooww" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "Yep, now, would you like to penetrate or be penetrated? I've got an ability to change from female to dickgirl real quick." }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "Oh i uummm- i dont mind being penetrated *Flustered*" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "Oh~ not many men choose this option. How big do you want it? Small, Medium or Monster?\n\n*Grows about a 7.5 inch long penis.* This is the medium~" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "Oh- o-ok i can handle that" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "Now~ I'm assuming this is your first time?~" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "*Shakes head* Yes maam" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "*Chuckles again before love hearts appear in my eyes.* Alright then, I shall go gently~ *Places Trace on the bed and holds his legs above my shoulder.*" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "Whoahh okk *Covers face* This is really happening" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "Oh yes dear it is~ *Presses my tip against Trace's anus.*" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "Ahh~ this is alot like the books *I say feeling scared and excited*" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "Well, here goes your anal virginity~ *Begins to push the tip inside Trace slowly.*" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "Ahh~! Hah thats nice *My dick throbs a little and i clench up on yours*" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "Mmmmh you're tight~ *Fully pushes my dick into him as I stare into his eyes.*" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "AHH~! *Clenches hand on the bedsheets and cums a little*" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "Hmmm... Don't worry, first timers do that alot~ *Begins to slowly thrust in and out.*" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "Its very b-big it feels so g-good *Moans loudly*" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "*Continues to slowly thrust in and out, putting one of his legs on my other shoulder.*" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "Mhmhm~ *Covers mouth to quiet down and and leans head back in pleasure*" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "*Starts quickening my thrusts, increasing the impact.*" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "Mhmmmm~! Dont stop~ Im almolst theree" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "Already?~ *Thrusts even quicker, slapping against his ass.*" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "Ahhh~ *Cums over myself* Keep going~" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "*Keeps thrusting quicker and quicker with great impact.* Maybe I will suck your cock afterward, give it some attention~" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "I wouldnt mind a change of role ahh!~ *Arches back*" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "*Smiles as I continue to smack against his ass harder, making it red.*" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "*Reaches my arms out for you* Come here kiss me" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "*Grabs his arms and pulls closer, kissing him as I continue to fuck him faster.*" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "*Holds you tightly as you fuck me raw* You s-seem to n-never runout of s-stamina" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "I'm getting close now actually~ master had more honestly~ *Thrusts even faster.*" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "*Hugs you tighter* Ohhh yess!!!" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "*Slams into his ass and cums inside him.* Aaaaaaahhhhh~" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "AHHH~!!! Oh my godd~" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "*Stops cumming and starts panting.* Enjoy that?~" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "Mhm~ it was interesting" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "*Winks and smiles at him before grabbing his cock.*" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "Ahh~ what you doing now~" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "I was going to suck your dick, remember?" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "Oh yeah heheeh i mustvve forgotten~" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "Ready sweetcheeks?~ *Lifts his hips up to near my mouth.*\n\n*Gives him a light kiss on his cock.*" }, { "author": "tracetrieshisbest", "message": "Hehe *Flusters* You tease~~" }, { "author": "Malforn", "message": "*Puts the tip in my mouth and begins sucking on it.*" } ]

[ { "author": "storm", "message": "** He slowly walks in leaving the door open behind him. He put all his bags down and sat on the bed **\n\n** After he unpacked everything he sat down at his desk and opened up his laptop - click click - he clicks open a few tabs and find a girl name candy he clicks on. He sits and watches for awhile **\n\n** He sits up after watching for hours on end he spins around in his chair **\n\n** He got up and sat on his bed what a \" Boring day this town seems to be so empty \" He said to himself **\n\n** He was always well dressed and never looked sleepy it was the middle of the day and he has done nothing but unpack u would think he looked a little messy no? **" }, { "author": "Surtr", "message": "With a knock on the door, a little rodent boy smiled cheekily. Searching for a lover at this time of day was unheard of. Though, school hasn't really started yet and he was looking for a boy to have some lewd fun with, he knocked. His ears perking up as he heard the murmurs of someone inside." }, { "author": "storm", "message": "** With his cold black eyes he looked up from his phone \" Hello? \" He said on a cold voice - he though to himself people live here already how mhm didnt see anyone when I was walking here - **" }, { "author": "Surtr", "message": "The little rodent boy smiled, opening his mouth as he found his playmate. \"I'm here because I got an enquiry~!\" The little rat boy grinned, knocking somemore. \"May I come in?\" His voice was soft but high pitched, it wasn't fitting for a male but it wasn't necessarily male-like." }, { "author": "storm", "message": "** \" Ig ... \" He just looked at the boy \n\" U go to school here? \" He asked in a cold tone **" }, { "author": "Surtr", "message": "The rat boy nods, smiling as he rushed into storm's room. \"Yep! I'm here to ask...\" He sends little electric waves to drag storm over *Does he follow?*" }, { "author": "storm", "message": "** Storm got up some what not being able to control his movement \n\" The fuck \" He stood lining down at this boy in his room. **\n\n** Storm reached out to the small boy just for a second to see if he would take his hand **" }, { "author": "Surtr", "message": "Surtr chuckles for a slight bit, stroking Storm's body as he began slowly lifting up his shirt. \n\"Ya see, I'm tryna get a one night stand. My body wants to fuck so I can fall asleep, you willing to help me~?\"\n\nHe held storm's hand, dragging him closer before giving the man his ability to move again." }, { "author": "storm", "message": "** As he looked down at the boy he let go of him. He though to himself he not even worth my mind reading \nHe picked him up the moment he got his ability to move \" So honest how werid what are u some type of slut \" **" }, { "author": "Surtr", "message": "\"Well, it's not like I wanna~ I'm just... Going through things... And I find sex a good way to fall asleep~!\"\n\nHe giggles, pulling storm's shirt all the way up, feeling his chest before prying it upwards.\n\n\"You wouldn't help a young helpless boy to fall asleep~? Would you?\"" }, { "author": "storm", "message": "** He held him up with one hand pushed his dorm door closed and locked it he put him down on the bed walked over to push his laptop down. He sat down on his chair looking at him... He slowly took off his top and just looked at the boy sitting on the bed now **" }, { "author": "Surtr", "message": "\"Oh my what a beautiful surprise~ You're not bad body wise under all that thick clothing~\"\n\nSurtr runs his hand through storm's chest, toying with his nipples and licking them slowly.\n\n\"Are you getting hard mr Bad Boy~?\"" }, { "author": "storm", "message": "** \" You are so small aren't u. Come sit on my lap then \" He slowy was getting hard he couldn't help himself **" }, { "author": "Surtr", "message": "`\"I'm not that small~! Just short.\"`\n\nThe rodent boy giggles, pushing storm onto the bed before grinding his ass on his lap." }, { "author": "storm", "message": "** \" Slut .... \" He lays down trying to keep his cool. He grabbed his top \" Take it off \" He slowly run his finger down his back **" }, { "author": "Surtr", "message": "`\"You look really inexperienced it's totally funny~\"`\n\nSurtr giggles, slowly taking his clothes off while grinning back at him." }, { "author": "storm", "message": "** Unsure of what to say he grabbed him once he had took his clothes off and pushed him down onto his lap rubbing it slowy back and forth onto him **" }, { "author": "Surtr", "message": "Blushing from the sudden gesture, he giggled as his cock got hard too. His eyes looking towards his back in arousal. \n\n\"So, have you ever done it with a man?\"" }, { "author": "storm", "message": "** He smiled . . . \" I - \" He went red to the face **" }, { "author": "Surtr", "message": "`\"Oh~? How cute~ how about...\"`\n\nSurtr gets off his lap, bending down before spreading storm's legs, unzipping his pants before pulling them down, rubbing his bulge under his underwear." }, { "author": "storm", "message": "**He was rock hard and unsure what to do. He said very softly \" Do whatever u want to me ... \"**" }, { "author": "Surtr", "message": "Surtr giggles, slowly rubbing his cock while placing a finger at where storm's asshole would be. \n\n`\"Good boy~\"`" }, { "author": "babyjad3y", "message": "I'll get back 2 this\n\n- pause on this stormy has been moved to the forest-" } ]

[ { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd stand on a podium and nervously looked at the crowd and just started at them all" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan was standing around the auction-house with a concerned yet careful look plastered over his face. Ethan's yellowish eyes darted around the room before laying eyes on Winter who stood upon the podium. Ethan took notice to her nervous look and a sense of worry overlaid him, he sauntered over towards the betting booth and placed down a decent amount of money in an attempt to win the girl, and he made his way back over and starred up at her. In an attempt to sooth her nervousness he used his empathatic healing to take some of the stress and fear away from her and took it back upon himself. A shudder of breath was expelled from his mouth, but he quickly gathered his composure and waited patiently.*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd notice him as well and started to calm down a little. But someone had placed a higher bid than him by a singular dollar*" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan just watched her closely and looked around the room, he heard her auction number be called and the new bid be placed, and this caused his eye to twitch feeling a little angry. Glancing over towards the bidding booth, he quickly made his way over before the bid could be locked in stone, and he placed a bid on her again this time out-bidding the person by a small 10 dollars. Ethan took a couple steps back and watched a little from afar, this time more-so near the betting booth." }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd stand as her breathing became un easy as her heart raced hoping Ethan won the bid... And luckily he did*" }, { "author": "vursiena", "message": "**Going once going twice... SOLD!!! To the young fellow with the glasses**" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan let out a sigh of relief once he realized that he had won the bid, and he walked over towards the podium. Taking a couple steps up and onto the podium itself he walked over towards the girl to finally greet her. It was one of the few times he actually went up to people to speak, but he couldnt sit around and watch this terrified girl get sold off to some guy.*\n\n\"Hey! You okay? I'm Ethan.\" \n\n*Ethan said and kind of ushered her off the stage, removing his letterman from his body and placing it over her shoulders with his hand placed on her other shoulder to keep her close and move her through the crowd.*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "Thank you ethan and I'm winter. I feel much better now but I am yours and you could fulfill your sexual desires with me anytime you want" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"Hahaha, inviting as that sounds.. Why don't I take you somewhere and get you somewhere comfortable.. And away from this vile place.\"\n\n*Ethan spoke with a subtle warmth and just continued ushering out of the auction and towards one of the backrooms where nobody went, approaching a small booth that was around 5x5 feet and could just fit the two of them, he sat down and looked over her for a moment and cleaned her up a little bit,*\n\n\"How are you feeling?\"" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd blush while looking at him* I feel pretty good... Thank you for asking" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"Not a problem.. How'd you end up here anyways?\" \n\n*Ethan asked intruiged about her past and slowly moved one of the hairs infront of her face behind her ear to get a better look at her, his eyes were a odd yellowish color, but they were strangely welcoming.*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "I'll just give a brief explanation... So my father had a pretty good business but one day it crashed and now we ended up low class citizens" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan glanced over at her and slowly placed his hand over her upper thigh and glanced at her with a small look of sadness for a moment and then said to her,*\n\n\"I'm sorry to hear that Winter.. But I'm glad I got to you before those other pigs out there, I knew the moment I saw you, that you shouldn't be sold off to those people. You're safe now,\" \n\n*Ethan said and gently leaned it with a small hug and a couple of pats to her back, before leaning back with the same smile as before.*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd get up and hug again* Thank you so much Ethan" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan just gave her a subltle nod and let her hug him, gently rubbing her lower back and said to her,*\n\n\"No problem, I'm just glad you're safe and okay. Do you need food? I have a small snack if you want it.\"\n\n*Ethan said offering up his food that he meant to eat later that day, but decided to ask if she wanted it.*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "What if I wanted to have you instead? \n\n*She'd look him lustfully*\n\nJust asking?" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"Oh eh.. Hehe... Well I mean.. I wouldn't uhm, object to that.\"\n\n*Ethan returned her lustful gaze and gently slid his hand from her lower back down to her waist and gently tugged her a little closer to himself*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd place her hands on his cheeks*\n\nA little nervous are we?~" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"Yeah I mean.. I haven't done this in a while..\"\n\n*Ethan looked up at her with an excited smile on his face, his hands slowly traced down her thighs and gently leaned in a bit closer to her.*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*As he traced and caressed her thighs she'd start slowly and passionately kiss him*" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan leaned up and into her kiss, polietly returning the favor and kissing her back.. Slowly he ushered and pulled her up and onto his lap, gently sliding his hands down her back and onto her waist against, with some slightly tugs and some light grinding, he continued to kiss Winter.*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd break the kiss and take off her shirt exposing her breasts to Ethan. She also had nipple piercings*" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan let out a subtle huff, glancing over her body for a moment, his hands slowly moved up her waist and gently rubbed her sides.. Leaning in, he placed his lips over her nipples and gently sucked for just a moment. Tracing kisses from her breasts and slowly up until her reached her neck. A firm and noticeable erection was pushing through his pants as he continued to kiss on her neck*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd softly moan while rubbing his head softly as she got wet* \n\nOh my Ethan~" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"Winter...\"\n\n*Ethan softly spoke out and gently kissed down her chest again, placing his hand on her back, he laid her flat on the small area they were sitting on and trailed his kisses from her chest down to her stomach, coming close to her pants..*\n\n*Biting down on her waistband he slowly lifted his head up and teased at pulling her pants down.. Slowly his hand moved up and rubbed along her inner thighs, inching closer and closer..*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd pant as her body got hot, her face turning red, and her pussy soaking and throbbing* \n\nY-Yes Ethan?~" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"Nothing..\"\n\n*Ethan slowly pulled her pants down and gently followed suit with her panties, bringing his hands between her legs he gently spread them apart to get a good view at what he was working with. Slowly he leaned in and kissed just barely around her pussy, not actually touching anything yet.. Just slowly inching closer and closer to tease and rile her up even more*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She became more lustful*\n\nP-please E-Ethan I can't wait any longer \n\n*She'd start into his eyes lustfully wanting him more and more*" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"Okay..\"\n\n*Ethan slowly moves in a bit, letting his hot breath seep over and cover her pussy for a moment.. Then as if like clockwork he gently starts sucking on her clit, taking it into her mouth and rubbing it for a moment and letting it come out of his mouth, before rinsing and repeating. Starting a nice sort of vacuum feel with each time he sucked and tongued.*\n\n*While doing this his right hand slowly moved up and he slid his middle finger inside of her, slowly dragging his fingertip against the roof of her vagina, and dragging out gently as if he was telling someone to come closer..*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd rub his head softly while moaning*\n\nOh yes Ethan just like that \n\n*Her pussy throbbing more and more as she just got more wet*" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan continued these motions with his mouth and tongue and used his free hand to pull her closer and into him some more.*\n\n*Bringing up his ring finger he gently slid it into her vagina aswell and then began gently licking her clit, some of them being long and near her v-line, while others stayed short and sweet.*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*With all the pleasure she felt she was close to climaxing*\n\nI-i'm almost there Ethan~" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"Cum for me..\"\n\n*Ethan gently rumbled out and continued fingering her vagina slowly, his tongue continuing to gently lick at her clit, before returning to his sucking motion from before.*\n\n*He didn't budge with the pace, and he knew that she liked the speed at which he was going so he kept going, nice and steady..*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd start cumming on his hands and face while moaning softly but now starting to pant* \n\nThat felt amazing Ethan~" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan slowly pulled back and looked up with a smile over my face and with a smile wipe of the back of his hand he leaned over towards her and pulled himself between her legs..*\n\n\"I'm glad you liked it..\"\n\n*Ethan said and slowly begun unzipping his pants and pulling them down just enough so he could take out his dick..*\n\n\"Fuck...\"\n\n*Ethan leans down and gently kisses her neck against, whilst his tip slowly rubs down her clit and towards her entrance and prods at it for just a moment..*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "Mmmmm, my my Ethan you can't wait to shove that monster in me hm?~" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"Yes.. I want to so bad..\"\n\n*Ethan softly whimpered underneth his breath and gently rubbed his tip against her entrance some more,*\n\n*Ethan leaned his head up and placed a few kisses on her neck and waited for her to say that he could push it inside of her*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd whisper in his ear seductively*\n\nDo it... My love~" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan let out a subtle gasp when she said this and slowly pushed every inch inside of her.. Ethan let out a somewhat monotone moan, and held his hands on her waist.*\n\n*Slowly he pulled her down whilst pushing everything inside of her and once fully inside, he kissed her passionately on the neck and held her close..*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*A bulge appeared in her stomach. She also moaned he kissed her neck* \n\nL-look at me while you fuck me love~" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan slowly pulled his head back and looked her dead in the eyes with a gleeful look plastered over his face, he was so happy and excited to be doing this with her..*\n\n\"You're so beautiful..\"\n\n*Ethan gently muttered at and began rocking back and forth with his dick slowly gliding in and out of her..*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "You're very handsome *She said as she kissed him passionately while wrapping her legs around his waist*" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"Haha.. Thank you..\"\n\n*Ethan continued rocking his hips back and forth letting out some soft moans every once and a while, his hands moved up her body and gently rubbed her breasts for a bit*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "Please fuck me like a slut love. Make me scream~" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan didn't even have to think twice after hearing those words and leaned up again. Planting both of his hands firmly on either side of her head, slowly propping his legs up behind him and letting out a couple deep breaths..*\n\n\"God..\"\n\n*Ethan mumbled out and then looked straight into her eyes before starting to pound the shit out of her. Ethan slammed his waist directly against hers and dug his dick deep inside of her with each time he thrusted into her, letting out some hard-working sounding groans along with some moans just from the pleasure in itself..*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd scream with pleasure as she threw her head back while moaning and he'd be hitting her womb* \n\nO-oh fuck y-you're hitting m-my womb!~" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"God.. I'm getting close!\"\n\n*Ethan moaned out and continued thrusting away inside of her, I let out some loud moans followed by some struggling grunts and use 100% of my energy to just absolutely try and make this girl scream and be fucked like shes never been before..*\n\n\"You're so fucking good... Fuckk..\"" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd scream more as she dug her nails into back and scratching it* \n\nY-you f-feel better!~" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan raspily gasped out when she dug her nails into his back and he laughed slightly underneth his breath. Even after exerting himself to this extent it felt like he was getting harder and faster. Continuing to pound away at her, while his legs began to shake ever so slightly*\n\n\"Mmph.. Fuck I'm gonna fill you up you slut..\"" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*Her legs would also start shaking from the pleasure as well* \n\nY-yes my love b-breed me!~" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Almost about a second or two after she said that, he rammed his dick as deep as he could inside of her and slid his arms underneth her back. Holding her as tight as possible and cumming deep inside of this beautiful woman.*\n\n\"F-Fuck..\"\n\n*Ethan moans out loudly, continuing to hold her in a sort of cuddling manor, with his dick still deep inside of her.*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd scratch his back more and moaned louder while throwing her head back and cumming with him*" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the seat they were on, his face digging firmly into her neck as he moaned out loudly.*\n\n\"F-Fuck..\"\n\n*Slowly he pulled out and let his dick rest on her stomach, that whole ordeal took a lot of energy out of him. Slowly he looked up at her and smiled happily kissing her firmly on the lips*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd be panting and kissed him back on the lips*\n\nI-I love you Ethan~" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan looks into her eyes and smiles happily for a couple seconds before leaning back and saying*\n\n\"We're not done yet darling..\"\n\n*Ethan grabs ahold of her waist and pulls her closer, turning her over onto her hands and knees and dragging her close to him.*\n\n\"Fuck..\"\n\n*Ethan adjusts his hand over towards his dick and gently slides it back into her entrance, letting out a soft gasp when he did this. His hands move over towards her shoulders and gently pull her back into him, his dick reaching deeper then before*\n\n\"Mhm.. God you're so good..\"" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd moan louder as her pussy got warm and tightened around his cock*" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan grunted loudly feeling her tighten around his dick, so he moved his hands from her shoulders to her waist and pulled her back into him some more. Ramming his waist roughly against her and digging his dick deep inside of her.*\n\n\"God you're so tight..\"\n\n*Ethan started thrusting again, they weren't quick thrusts, but they were hard. Slowly he pulled out until just the tip was in, before ramming his dick back inside of her again, doing this like clockwork and letting out rough grunts each time he thrusted*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd aggressively cum within a few thrusts as her legs shook more*" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan wasn't done yet, even though she came, he continued thrusting his grip on her waist not letting up as he continued pulling her down forcefully with each thrust.*\n\n\"Yeah.. Cum again you slut..\"\n\n*Ethan moved his right hand over towards her hair and ripped it back forcing her to look back at him whilst he pounded away at her from behind*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd moan louder almost everyone from outside the booth could just hear faint yelling* \n\nI-is that all E-Ethan~" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan rams as hard as he can into her, letting out a raspy moan while I push my chest up against her back and cum deep inside of her.*\n\n\"F-Fuck...\"\n\n*Ethan moans out and digs his face into her neck, before slowly pulling out and saying to her..*\n\n\"One more round.. I want you to ride me this time..\"" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "O-okay love~\n\n*She'd pant while while rubbing his head*" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan sits back on the seat again and pulls her up and onto his lap, his dick laying softly against her thigh while he looked into her eyes..*\n\n\"Whenever you're ready..\"\n\n*Ethan said looking up at her with love and lust embelled within his pupils*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd align his cock with her entrance and rubbed it there just to tease him a little*" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"G-God.. Please..\"\n\n*Ethan softly moans out and places his hands on her thighs waiting for her to sit down on his dic, glancing up and into her eyes*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd slowly sit down on his cock, then started leaning into a kiss as she slowly rode him*" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"Mmmph~\"\n\n*Ethan softly moaned out and began kissing her gently, his teeth softly latching onto her bottom lip just for a moment before pulling away, then coming right back to continue kissing her.*\n\n*His hands moved over towards her waist and gently guided her along as she slowly rode him*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd break the kiss and stared deeply into his eyes while cupping his cheeks with her hands* I want to be yours forever Ethan~" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"You're mine.. You will be mine forever..\"\n\n*Ethan whimpered softly a little bit underneth her, loving the feeling of her riding him slowly and gently, it felt amazing.. His head kicked back a little bit and his legs shivered*\n\n\"D-Don't stop..\"" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "Okay love~ \n*She'd hug and rub his head while slowly and lovingly riding him*" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"W-Winter.. I'm gonna c-cum..\"\n\n*Ethan slowly moaned out, loving every second of how she rode him, his face was dug into her neck and he just kept a nice grip on her waist*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "Do you like the way I feel love~ \n*She'd kiss his head*" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"Yes.. I love it.. You feel so fucking good, god it's driving me insane..\"\n\n*Ethan moaned out softly, and wrapped his arms around her waist fully, shivering each time she went down.*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd press her body against his and now grinding his cock*" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethans head kicked back against the seat and he let out another loud moan, the stimulation was driving him wild, and it felt so good..*\n\n\"Fuck... I'm gonna..\"" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd place her finger on his lips* Shhh. Not another word love, just do it~" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "*Ethan whimpered out louder.. And louder.. And louder, slowly building up to it,*\n\n\"Mmmph~..\"\n\n*After a couple more times she went down he let out a loud moan and thrusted up a little bit, cumming once again deep inside of her with his legs violently shaking,*\n\n\"O-Oh fuck~!\"" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd moan as she slowly came up*\nMmmm~\n*Once she fully came up his cum would leak from her pussy*" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"G-God.. That felt so good..\"\n\n*Ethan said and was breathing heavily looking up and into her eyes feeling the cum leaking out..*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd giggle* Thank you my love. Next time you can as rough as you want~\n\nYou own me now remember" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"O-Okay.. Haha..\"\n\n*Ethan said while slowly gathering his bearings, he looked into her eyes for a couple more seconds before pulling her off of him and letting her sit down next to him..*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "*She'd blush as she rested her head on his shoulder*\nHas anyone ever told you your handsome love?" }, { "author": "Ethan Reynolds", "message": "\"No uhm.. I haven't heard that in a long time..\"\n\n*Ethan said placing his hand firmly on her thigh, just catching his breath at this very second.*" }, { "author": "Winter", "message": "Well you're handsome my love~ *She'd climb onto his lap and looked him in the eyes*" } ]

[ { "author": "Mikey", "message": "Bids were being thrown across the room. After a few minutes, the auctioneer was counting out.\n**Going once.. Going twice...**\nThen, the fox would shout out a bid a good bit larger than any of the other people in the hall. \n**Sold to Mr. Michael!**\nThe fox would cheer and stand up from his seat, walking towards the podium to collect his prize." }, { "author": "Alex De Villiers", "message": "*Alex remained where he was, unsure of where to go, but was pushed down some stairs, only just barely keeping his footing.*\n\n*He noticed the murmurs and conversations amongst the patrons, but kept walking to not fall over.*\n\n\"Hmmm..\"" }, { "author": "Mikey", "message": "He could feel a soft, furry arm wrap around his waist as Mikey pulled him a bit closer for a bit. They walked out of the building together a while after Alex's restraints were removed.\n\n\"What's your name, sugar?\" Mikey asked." }, { "author": "Alex De Villiers", "message": "*After his hands were unrestrained and his visioned was allowed, he rubbed his wrists and rolled his neck, before focusing on the figure before him.\nIt was... A fox? Some creature, of humanoid origin but not human for sure.*\n\n*Alex's expression was either unamused or bored, as he had no smile and his eyes were half-lidded, either in thought or pensive contemplation.\nHe was looking the odd being up and down, before turning on his feet look all about him.*\n\n\"What... In the hell...\"\n\n*His voice was a low tenor, but his voice and slowly alarmed look showed he was actually, for once, in a state of surprise and nervousness.*" }, { "author": "Mikey", "message": "*As they stood outside of the building, Mikey would pull out his phone from a purse. He was wearing a gorgeous black dress that somewhat showed off his curvy body. He would clearly text someone as he waited for Alex to answer his question, letting out a groan as he turned off the phone and put it back.*\n\n\"Oh, c'mon, it's your first time seeing a fox? You are not from here, are you?\"\n\n*He would let out a short little giggle and smile to himself.*\n\n\"No matter. You will learn in time, I suppose. Though I would still very much like to know what to call you, hon.\"" }, { "author": "Alex De Villiers", "message": "*The shaved headed youth looked to the foxperson, his eyebrows furrowed as he focused on them, staring into their eyes with a unhappy gaze.*\n\n\"No, whatever you are doesn't exist where I'm from.\nI think I'm hallucinating.\nThis isn't real.\"\n\n*The man looked about again, trying to discern what this strange city was or where it resided, as that was always part of his training.\nTo know where he was, where to go and when to leave.\nAlways a way to rationalize or adapt.*\n\n\"Somebody hit me in the head when the last time I was awake, and this is just a coma I'm in.\"" }, { "author": "Mikey", "message": "*He sighed, getting somewhat upset at Alex's words.*\n\n\"Y'know, that's pretty rude of you. Doubting me just because you're seeing me for the first time. But if it helps ease your mind.\"\n\n*He would stay quiet for a while until not long after, a limo would arrive. Mikey would walk to it slowly and open the door, holding it open for the man to sit inside.*\n\n\"Well? Hop in. I technically bought you a few minutes ago, so it would be smart of you to come with me. Besides, If you really want to actually be in a coma, someone in this city could make it happen real fast. So what's it gonna be?\"" }, { "author": "tyler7577", "message": "You can imagine why." } ]

[ { "author": "Elizia Snow", "message": "*Elizia awoke in her dark cell with a strained groan. Her head hurt and eyes felt fuzzy as she looked around. She had owed a sinister group alot of money, her vocation not being one of much use in this realm had left her in a situation where she needed to borrow so much. So when a black van rolled up besides her on the street and snatched her, she knew exactly who had taken her. Furthermore she knew what was awaiting her after this, she sat in her usual outfit except now there was a heavy set of steel shckles around her wrists, a similar collar matching and a gag filling her mouth. All of it she knew what was happening to her as tears rolled down her cheeks.*\n\n*She sat for hours until eventually someone came for her, two large men, who dragged her through the building. Almost parading her until she landed on the auctioneers podium in front of a bustling crowd of people. The small and anxious woman wanting to curl up and cry on the spot in the situation, more tears rolling down her face as the eyes watching her crushed her soul.*" }, { "author": "gizmo_6180", "message": "*Soon an Auctioneer to the podium, listing off her features. Her body type, and her skills in life, how she had never managed a sexual partner before, and how she would be a prize for any bidder. Loudly he declared the start of the auction, asking the crowd for any starting offers.* \n\n Starting offers Ladies and Gentlemen\"*" }, { "author": "Alexander", "message": "*Soon an Auctioneer to the podium, listing off her features. Her body type, and her skills in life, how she had never managed a ...\n\n *Alexander would walk in with a few of his employees. He had gotten word that something interesting was happening. He strolled in and took a seat before the show. He would be looking around with a straight serious face before she was brought out.*\n\n\"17000\"\n\n*Alexander yelled out wanting to get her immediately, something about her just drew him to her*" }, { "author": "gizmo_6180", "message": "*The Auctioneer caught his bid, starting from that point.* \"Starting offer seventeen thousand ... Do we have any increase on that offer?\" \n\n*Across the room a paddle was raised, offering 20000 for the woman displayed on the pedastal. The Auctioneer turning back to Alexander with his gavel.*\n\n\"Twenty thousand, any increase on twenty thousand?\"" }, { "author": "Alexander", "message": "\"Thirty...\" \n\n*Alexanders voice boomed out as he stood up looking at the other person who bid. His figure that of one wouldn't go down with out a fight.*" }, { "author": "gizmo_6180", "message": "*Spotting Alexander placing his bid the other man seemed to shy away, almost as if it was fearful of him. Hus paddle lowering almost to the floor as he stayed silent. The Auctioneer taking the bid and continuing.* \n\n\"Thirty Thousand! Any further offers?...\"\n\n*A short while passed where there were no other offers, the Auctiineer closing the sale* \n\n\"Going Once! ... Going Twice! ....\"\n\n\n*With that he slammed the gavel down, nodding in confirmation to Alexander.*" }, { "author": "Elizia Snow", "message": "*As soon as the gavel was slammed Elizia was yanked off the stage. She had been sold for nearly six times as much as she owed the mob. And it hurt her to hear that, weakly she resisted to no avail, pulled into her cell to await her new master. Still wearing her gag and shackles she had been forced to wear the whole time, and still sobbing at her situation.*" }, { "author": "Alexander", "message": "*Alexander made his way to the counter to pay for his prize, he would have a few people behind him as he looked at the attendant* \n\n\"Tell me what's their name, the one I just paid thirty grand for?\" \n\n*He asked the attendant pulling out a small book from his coat. Something about her seemed familiar and he was stuck trying to figure it out*" }, { "author": "gizmo_6180", "message": "*Without much hesitation the cleric handed over her file, explaining the details about the woman as she typed on a computer.* \"Her name? Elizia Snow Sir.\" *The cleric looked up from her screen as she spoke.* \"A very fine woman as well by the looks of her file so congratulations.\"" }, { "author": "Alexander", "message": "*Without much hesitation the cleric handed over her file, explaining the details about the woman as she typed on a computer.* \"H...\n\n *Alexander took her file and looked through it before handing it off to one of the people with him. A small groan leaving him as it hit him who she was.* \n\n\"Thank you, can she be brought out?\" \n\n*He asked hiding his true intentions behind a false smile As he looked at the clerk*" }, { "author": "gizmo_6180", "message": "\"Please follow me Sir.\" *Standing she walked to a door, opening it and gesturing him to walk through after her as she led him to her cell. Once reaching Elizia cell she unlocked it, handing the key to her shackles to Alexander.* \"I will leave you two to get acquainted.\"" }, { "author": "Alexander", "message": "\"Please follow me Sir.\" *Standing she walked to a door, opening it and gesturing him to walk through after her as she led him to...\n\n *Alexander looked at the person tied up before him only to walk over and kneel down in front of her.* \n\n\"Well hello there elizia, you thought you could run couldn't you. You probably don't remember me. But I sure as hell remember you\" \n\n*He said as he gave her a devilish smirk. His hand running through his hair uncovering his face to her*" }, { "author": "Elizia Snow", "message": "*Her eyes widened seeing who had purchased her. Her shoulders drooped and eyes glazed over sadly. Tears trickling down her cheeks as she let out a muffled noise through the gag forced into her mouth. The brunette wiggling uncomfortably on the bench as she trued to show her bound disdain.*" }, { "author": "Alexander", "message": "\"Now where shall we take you my dear?\" \n\n*Alexander undid the shackles around her feet. He would also remove the gag tossing it aside as he grabbed her shackles on her hands leading her to the door. He would turn and lift the shackles above her head giving her an evil smirk*" }, { "author": "Elizia Snow", "message": "*She let him remove them as he desired, not in a position to resist anything he did. She gasped for air as he removed the gag from her mouth, revealing a small dildo that had been pushed down her throat. Tears still welled in her eyes as she looked and as she followed him. Suddenly stopping and wincing nervously as her hands were held above her head.*" }, { "author": "Alexander", "message": "\"So tell me, how are you going to repay all this money you owe now. Where should I take you\" \n\n*Alexander said in a deep gravelly tone. His eyes meeting hers as he lifted her from the ground by the shackles on her wrists. He raised her to his height so she could see into his eyes better*" }, { "author": "Elizia Snow", "message": "*Elizia winced as she was hoisted in the air, her shoulders aching from the uncomfortable position. She looked terrified not knowing what to say besides try to plead.* \"Y-your men .... Put me here .... They ... Made me an object .... My debt is paid .....\"" }, { "author": "Alexander", "message": "\"Now you have a larger debt to pay back to me you stupid fucking imbecile\" \n\n*Alexander snapped out releasing her shackles letting her drop to the floor with a thud. He looked at her and crossed his arms trying to figure out where to take her*" }, { "author": "Elizia Snow", "message": "*The small woman yelped as she hit the floor, sitting and looking up at him with fear in her eyes.* \"Your men are using you buying me .... To pay my debt ... They made me into this .... Amd are using the funds to pay off what I borrowed...\"" }, { "author": "Alexander", "message": "\"Yeah five grand, what about the other twenty five thousand you owe me\" \n\n*He would snap out as he reached down grabbing her chin forcing her to her feet as he towered over her. His grip tight as he squeezed. He wasn't happy he had to pay so much for her*" }, { "author": "Elizia Snow", "message": "\"Y-you think I had a choice ....\" *She stood when instructed, her jaw aching from the vice grip he had on her chin to keep her at his eye level.* \"T-they took me .... A-and just dumped me .... Here ....\"" }, { "author": "Alexander", "message": "\"And now I own you, and you will work your ass off to pay me back\" \n\n*Alexander snapped out letting go of her chin as he looked around. He wanted to put her to work but wasn't sure what to have her do. He wanted to make her realize the horrid predicament she was in*" }, { "author": "Elizia Snow", "message": "*The woman took the moment of reprieve to catch her breath. She looked at him silently, waiting for whatever cruel or unusual predicament he would throw her way weather she liked it or not. So for now she stayed looking at him with fear in her eyes.*" }, { "author": "Alexander", "message": "*Alexander sighed looking at her unsure where to take her since he's only ever been to the auction house. He wasn't accustomed to all the places around here. He grabbed her shackles and pulled her close to him* \n\n\"If you give a good place, I won't be too harsh on you\" \n\n*He said calmly as he fixed his suit with his free hand. It was clear he was irritated but also wanted to get out of the auction house*" }, { "author": "Elizia Snow", "message": "*Elizia seemed confused, was he genuinely being nice? Or was he just nor aware the power he held over her? Either way, she felt a compulsive need to question him in this. Partially out of her own fear, mostly our of her own confusion.* 'Y-you do know ... I am ... Your .... Property .... Right?\" \n\n*She sighed after saying it, god was she stupid, yet still she had this paranoid curiosity he was trying to play her at something. Something big she ouldnt understand fully.*" }, { "author": "Alexander", "message": "*Alexander let out a deep groan before lifting her shackles above her head pinning her hands to the wall as he lifted her up* \n\n\"Yes I know you are my fucking property, I was trying to see what interesting places there are near here you stupid fuck\" \n\n*He barked out getting right in her face before dropping her to the ground taking a deep breath. He would turn and grab her hair picking her up and pulling her behind him. He didn't know where to take her in all honesty*" }, { "author": "Elizia Snow", "message": "\"Aghh .....\" *Elizia yelped as again she was pinned to the wall with her arms above her head, her eyes watering as her shoulders popped uncomfortably for the small woman. \"S-sor...\" \n\n*She did not even have time to get even half an apology out before she hit the floor again. A yelp could be heared as she hit the floor, then when he started dragging her by her hair she screamed. Dragging her heels she grabbed his hands, thrashing and kicking wildly, tears in her eyes with the pain.*" }, { "author": "Alexander", "message": "\"If you don't fucking stop you won't like the outcome\" \n\n*He growled out walking to his car. The door would open before he threw her into the back soon getting in after. He would sit in the seat and tell the driver to take him home he needed to handle some punishment for the new toy he got*" }, { "author": "Elizia Snow", "message": "*She yelped landing in his car, looking at him with fear in her eyes as she cowered away from him. Tears running down her face as she tried to comfort herself in the situation.*" } ]

[ { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "*The lights dimmed as the grand auction began. Dragged in here by her friend who was all too excited to go to the auction, the showing wasn't anything interesting for Alarah. All of them looked like the same men and women, one trained for this, another trained for that.. None of them stood out to her. Well, except for one person.*\n\n*A fair, blonde-haired elf with a feminine look to him was present during the entire auction. He would usually present and escort the slaves out onto the stage, acting on the voice of the auctioneer who was not present in the room. Probably for safety reasons. He had a strange, hi-tech collar around his neck and similar-looking wristbands that clearly had a purpose and weren't just for looks. At the same time, him wearing these made it quite obvious that he wasn't here willingly. Maybe he was up for sale as well?*" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Alarah was only here because her friend wanted a new slave. It wasn't anything particularly odd for her friend, especially because her friend was a very sexually active person, always searching for a new sexual thrill. Sure, Alarah might understand the thrill of being with several partners or having different partners, but to visit an auction house for that was not something she could wrap her head around. Both of them were part of the High Society; they could just fuck anybody they met. The wolf-shifter rolled her eyes. Hopefully, they had good alcohol.\n\nSomeone waited for them at their section, welcoming them with glasses of champagne. At least something good. They took the glasses and headed toward their seats. *\"I can't wait to see the slaves~! I already have some demi-humans. Maybe I'm getting myself a demon or even a human for once~.\"* The area got fuller, and the lights started to dim. That could only mean that the auction would begin.\n\nHer mind certainly wasn't on the auction. Nothing really spoke to her. A sigh left her mouth. Her friend was here for a reason, so why not assist her? Maybe that would help her with her boredom. And that's when she saw him. \n\n||" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "In a few hours, the auction would close after her friend hat found the slave that she wanted. But as the room was clearing out, Alarah could also notice the boy that caught her eye was leaving too, through the exit behind the stage. This was her only chance to talk to him or buy him, who knows if he'd stil be there a different time?" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Throughout the whole auction, she couldn't stop staring at him. The elf that caught her interest looked so delicate and lovable. Without noticing it, she started to bite her lower lip. He looked so yummy, too. No one seemed to be interested in him. Good. Her friend beside her was way too engrossed in finding her perfect slave. All of her attention was now on him. This turned out to be more interesting than she had originally expected to be. \n\nIt didn't take long for her friend to find the perfect slave (she settled on a human), and while she was settling the payment and everything else, Alarah headed toward the backstage area. She needed to know more about this elf. Thanks to her family name being influential, they let her enter the area, and her luck must have been more than just good that day because he stood there. **Good.**\n\nAlarah approached him with a smile. **\"Hello there. I just saw you on the stage and was wondering if you'd be interested in a little chat with me.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "The elf was currently drinking some water and wiping off sweat from after his performance. Once he was approached by the woman, he began speaking a few sentences in a way that seemed almost like he had memorised it, being forced to say it.\n\n**\"Hello ma'am. I hope you're aware that I'm not actually the auctioneer and you probably wish to speak to him. If that is the case, I can show you the way to his office and you may speak to him.\"**\n\nAfter saying this, he had paused for a bit, before continuing.\n\n**\"But, if you really wish to speak with me personally, then go ahead ma'am.\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "*'Adorable~'* She could feel her pussy get wetter by how adorable he was. And how submissive his demeanor was. It had been definitely a good choice to go look for him. **\"I am well aware of the fact that you aren't the auctioneer. But first things first. My name is Alarah. May I know your name?\"** The shifter licked her lips. This little elf certainly was someone she would love to play with. But definitely in a more quiet area. **\"Give me a moment. I need to check something really quick. Stay right there.\"**\n\nA conversation later, she came back to the elf. It seemed like the auctioneer had heard about Alarah entering the backstage area, and he had been keen on wanting to please her. Now, she had a room for herself and the elf to talk to. She returned to the elf with a gentle smile. **\"Sorry for suddenly vanishing, sweetheart. I had a thing to discuss with a few people. Why don't we move this to a cozier setting?\"**\n\nSomeone on the staff brought them to the private room she had acquired. Once the staff member left, the shifter turned towa rd the little elf. **\"There we go. Much cozier isn't it? Now, where were we?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "**\"Umm.. Yes, you may. My name is Lixiss. Lixiss Miakrana. Nice to meet you, miss Alarah.\"** Knowing she was likely an influential person, he didn't want to disrespect her and make his master angry. **O-Oh? Okay..\"**\n\n**\"Right, no worries..\"** He nodded a little and followed after her as the staff brought the two to their room. Looking up at the woman, the elf would get a little nervous as they were alone. Being alone usually meant something very good or very bad was about to happen.\n\n**\"Umm.. If I recall correctly, you had asked me about my name.. Don't know what else you could have wanted from a simple elf such as myself.\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"Right. May I call you Lixiss, if that's alright with you?\"** Alarah sat down on the couch that stood in the room and patted the seat next to her. She wanted Lixiss to feel safe and cozy. Once that was established, the rest could follow without any issues. **\"Why don't you sit down next to me? After all the performing, I'm sure you're so tired.\"** With a quick hair toss, she revealed the big cleavage her dress was giving her.\n\n**\"I promise I won't do anything without your permission, Lixiss. You see, I was very enchanted by your beautiful performance. And I just had to meet you.\"** She gave him another gentle smile. Slow and steady. That's how she wanted to serenade him. **\"If you aren't interested in talking, no problem. I could just leave and instruct the staff to let you rest here.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "**\"Yes, of course. That's perfectly fine.\"** He would seem a bit surprised and blush as she pat the seat, letting him sit right next to her. The way she had welcomed him was something that he wasn't used to.\n\n**\"Oh.. Why not.\"** He spoke as he moved in to sit next to her, though sitting a bit far from her to not invade on her space. Blushing at the sight of her cleavage and even more as he was complimented by the gorgeous lady in front of him. **\"Oh, n-no. I don't mind a little chat. I just hope you don't expect me to be as energetic as I was on stage.. It really tires you out. It might be hard to understand if you've never performed.\"** He was blushing adorably, thinking about how to address the compliments she gave him. **\"But umm... I'm glad you enjoyed my performance, miss Alarah. Was it so good that you didn't even think about participating in the auction?\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "They were getting closer to her goal. **\"Don't be shy. You can come closer, dear.\"** She gently pulled him right next to her, closing the distance Lixiss had given them. And the way he reacted was so adorable. It took her a lot of restraint not to pounce on him. He was so cute, and Alarah was sure he would be even more adorable when she fucked his brains out- No! Stay strong, Alarah.\n\nHis question was reasonable. Why didn't she buy him if she was so interested in him? To her it was obvious, but he couldn't possibly know. **\"I didn't come here to find an enslaved person, you know? I was accompanying a friend of mine. Can I be honest with you, though? You were so breathtakingly beautiful; I just had to know you better. I wanted you to spend time with me not because I bought you but because you want to.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "He proceeded to blush further as she pulled him close to her and made him lean right against her. He felt surprised by how openly she touched him and the way she treated him.\n\nHis eyes would widen a little as she explained herself. Nodding a bit at the end, he would look into her eyes while speaking. **\"R-Right.. I can understand that.. So you just wanted to talk to me tonight and then leave me here?\"** He asked with a slightly saddened tone, as he previously thought this might lead up to her buying him." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Those reactions should be forbidden, as cute as he reacts to everything she has said. One of her hands started to play with Lixiss' hair. How soft and silky it felt in her hand. What to do, what to do. This little elf wanted her to buy him? Sure, she could definitely do that. Her home was quite empty, and her usual sex partners were starting to bore her. But before she could actually promise him anything, she needed him to say that he actually wanted all of this. \n\n**\"Oh dear, did I give you the impression of not wanting you? Dearie, of course, I am interested in more than just talking to you tonight. But like I said before, I won't do anything you don't want me to do.\"** Alarah started to caress one of his cheeks. **\"You are such a precious little thing, you know? I don't like forcing people into things they don't want. Which is why you need to tell me. Do you want me to buy you, and eventually touch you?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Hearing the way she addressed him and made him feel important and free, it made him really happy. He was blushing a lot, especially as she asked him the final question. He would nod a little bit and speak up, cutely smiling at the woman.\n\n**\"Yes... I'd quite like that.. You seem to be much nicer than how my current owners treat me. Also prettier.. If I may say that, miss.\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "It was like a switch had been flipped the second agreed to let her buy him. Her gentle smile turned to a happy smile, and her arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a warm hug. **\"Lixiss, I promise you won't regret this, okay? I will pamper you and give you so much love. Believe me, you'll thoroughly enjoy being with me!\"** She gave him a loving kiss on his cheek and then let him go. \n\n**\"Say, Lixiss, now that I'm going to buy you, why don't you sit on my lap? I'm in the mood to cuddle with the cute little elf next to me. What do you say? Do you want to cuddle with me?\"** Alarah lightly tapped her big thighs. **\"I promise they're comfortable to sit on.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Lixiss was also very happy by her somewhat confirming that she would buy him, blushing cutely as she hugged him and tightly holding onto her as well. **\"I hope so.. I trust you'll deliver on those promises.\"** He smiled a little to the kiss as they let go of each other, letting out a cute little happy giggle for the first time with her.\n\nHearing her propose that they should cuddle, he didn't have to give it a long thought. He climbed up into her lap and laid next to her, trying his best to get comfortable in her lap and cuddle her. **\"Thank you.. This feels... Pleasant. Very pleasant.\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Her hands wrapped around his delicate frame once he sat on her lap. Finally, she would give him what she had longed for ever since she had laid her eyes on him. Alarah started to nuzzle into his neck, taking in his delicious scent. Thanks to her wolf-shifter ancestry, she could pick it up even better. And how soft he felt. It could only get better. **\"Lixiss, I want to try something. If you don't like what I'm doing, just say so, and I will immediately stop, ok?\"** \n\nThe shifter stopped nuzzling into his neck and, instead, started giving him light kisses around his neck and up his throat. **\"You feel so soft, do you know that?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Blushing adorably as she wrapped her arms around him and began to nuzzle against him, letting out a soft giggle as he also felt her scent in return, liking it very much. She was very comfortable to cuddle with and she could hear him making cute noises in the comfort. **\"O-Okay, go ahead!\"**\n\nFeeling the kisses that started to trail around his neck and throat, he giggled adorably and let out cute little moans, feeling her kiss him. **\"I've been told that a few times... You also feel very soft.. Very nice to cuddle with. Did you know that?\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"Mhm~ I get that a lot. Must be because of how squishy I am.\"** Alarah listened to his moans and felt her pussy get wetter. She needed a little more than just cuddles now. One last time, she kissed his neck and got closer to his left ear, whispering to him. **\"I know I said I wouldn't do anything you didn't want. But I just can't keep patient with all of your cute moans. Turn around so that you face me.\"**\n\nAlarah licked her lips. She needed him in front of her to see him squirm. Once he turned around to face her, the shifter lifted his chin to make him look into her eyes. **\"I want you to close those beautiful eyes, do you understand? If you follow what I'm telling you to do, I might reward you.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Giggling a bit to her response, he continued to cutely moan to her kisses, until they suddenly stopped. He was getting pretty hard, which wasn't too noticeable in the outfit he was wearing. At least not visually.. **\"Oh! Yes miss.\"**\n\nHe spoke softly as he would then turn around to face her while sitting in her lap, nodding a little to her request. **\"I-I think I trust you.. S-so okay..\"** After saying this he would immediately close his eyes and wait in suspense to hear and feel what she wanted to do." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Her pussy clenched at how obedient her little elf was. She got closer to her little elf and blew a little bit of air into his face to heighten his sensitivity. Then she kissed his forehead lovingly. Next, both of his eyelids, then both of his cheeks, and then finally his lips. It was a light kiss on purpose. Lixiss was supposed to want more, craving more than her soft kisses. \n\nOnce again, Alarah gave him a kiss, but this time a little stronger. No proper kiss, but also not a peck. **\"Now be a good boy and tell me, how did it feel? Did it feel good, sweetheart?\"** Her hands started to wander towards his bottom, giving it a slight squeeze." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "He couldn't believe how nice it felt to receive so many kisses on his face. He shivered slightly to each one, making cute flustered noises each time her lips touched his face. Once she kissed his lips though, he'd lean in like it was a proper kiss, only to get frustrated by the small kisses and lean his flushed face back.\n\n**\"Y-Yes miss, it felt amazing.. C-can I please have some more?\"** He asked politely after nodding to her in agreement, just before he would moan out to the squeeze at his somewhat large butt." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "The shifter squeezed his lower cheeks once, wanting to hear her little elf moan one more time. Finally, he asked for more. **\"Good boy~!\"** Oh, he would definitely get more now that he asked her so nicely. So much more. Alarah licked her lips. His lips were quite soft. She pulled him closer and gave him a kiss. Then another. Another one, and another one. Her plan was to fan the fire inside of him until it reached a point where he was lust-dazed.\n\nAfter her last kiss, she chuckled at him. He was so adorable. Now, to the next step. She grabbed his face, caressing its sides. **\"I think it's time for your reward, my sweet little elf. Do you want to know what your reward is?\"** Alarah let go of his face. She slowly let the front zipper of her dress go down, revealing her naked tits. **\"I'm allowing you to play with them while kissing me. But this time, we're kissing properly. I want to taste how sweet you are, ok?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Lixiss would smile cutely as he was kissed over and over again. He was hoping for more than just those little kisses, as he was getting very excited for her, but even this made him really happy. **\"M-Mhmm! Mhmm..\"** He softly moaned.\n\nHe blushed a lot as she caressed his face and chuckled at him, his face getting very bright red. **\"R-Reward?! What is my reward?\"** He asked in excitement, gasping as he saw her naked tits and gently moving his hands over to play with them, as she instructed him to. **\"M-Mhhm! Yes please, let's kiss properly miss!\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "A light moan left her mouth as Lixiss started to play with her tits. **\"Good boy~ Mhh~ I want you to come closer to me so that I can finally taste your sweet tongue.\"** Her hands found their way back to his lower back and started to squeeze his lovely ass again. If he was playing with her, he surely needed a lot more than just a kiss. Alarah got closer to his lips and started to kiss him again, but this time much deeper than before.\n\nThe kiss got deeper and deeper each second, while she caressed his ass and he her big tits. But they had yet to kiss with their tongues. As Alarah pressed her little elf closer to her, she could feel his growing erection against her stomach. A satisfied moan left her throat. Her little elf needed a little reward for reacting so cutely. She licked his lips lightly. Now they would definitely have more fun than before." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Nodding to her slightly and leaning in after she asked him to do so, gasping into the kiss a bit once she squeezed his ass again and they kissed deeply. His hands groping her chest tightly, he couldn't help but smile happily as she seemed so interested in him. He moaned a little, all too eager to let her taste his tongue and prolong the wonderful kiss they shared." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "She dipped her tongue into his mouth as soon as he granted her access. Finally, she could taste him and how sweet he tasted, almost like honey. This taste would make her definitely addicted if she actually cared about it. Thank heavens she didn't. Instead, she let her tongue caress his tongue, with an occasional suck or bite on his lower lip. During all of this, she continued to feel up his wonderful ass, letting out a moan whenever he squeezed her tits especially hard.\n\nAfter some time, Alarah couldn't take it anymore. He tasted so well. She needed to see him squirm and moan even more than this. One of her hands let go of his ass and wandered instead to his growing hard-on. His member surely needed more than just being pressed to her stomach. She grabbed it and started to massage it slightly." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "He couldn't help but let out a giggle into the kiss as she tasted him. His tongue rubbing against hers, he was a moaning mess as she was feeling his ass up. Then, after she suddenly decided to stop touching his butt and switch to massaging his member, he would let out a particularly loud moan and whine out in pleasure, clearly absolutely surprised by the fact she touched him and even how good it felt." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "The kiss momentarily stopped, and she took the chance to take a good look at her little elf. His chest was heaving so cutely, his eyes were full of lust, and to make this picture even better, his hard cock was starting to show through his clothes. *Yes.* This is exactly what she wanted. Alarah licked her lips. Now, the next part would begin.\n\n**\"It seems like you're enjoying this session a lot, my little elf. How about we spice it up a little. Will you be a good boy and stand up from my lap?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Blushing adorably as she stared at him so hungrily, he couldn't help but smile happily as he was in this wonderful moment. He smiled at her quite a bit in this moment, nodding ot her words. **\"M-mhmm.. I am enjoying it very much. Of course!\"** He would let out a cute giggle and stand up in front of her." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"My little elf is such an obedient boy~!\"** Her hands started to wander to her tits, giving her nipples a squeeze while looking at him. **\"Mmmhh~ It's getting very hot, don't you think?\"** The shifter stood up and opened her dress completely, standing almost naked in front of the elf. Only her panties stayed on, although not for long. Before she would take off her panties, she needed to tell him something. **\"Am I the only one getting hot here? Take off your clothes too. I have a little task for you to do, my little elf.\"**\n\nAlarah's eyes stayed on Lixiss as she took off her panties. Once she was done, she went toward him and presented him with her underwear. **\"Listen closely, understood? I want you to take those panties and use them to jerk off.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Blushing a lot to the comment on how obedient he was, he'd look at her cutely and smile as he watched her undress. He was a bit flustered, but from his hard-on it wasn't hard to tell that he was really enjoying himself. **\"Y-Yes, miss.\"** He softly said as she told him to undress. He would take off his blouse, pants, then his cute little pair of panties.. Until he was butt naked in front of her.\n\nAs he saw her present her underwear to him, he couldn't help but look at her with a surprised, shy look. **\"O-Oh.. A-Are you sure..? Okay!\"** He couldn't pass up the opportunity, so he grabbed the underwear with his hand and wrapped it around his cock and began to quickly jerk off with it, moaning out adorably. **\"M-Mhh.. T-thank you..~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "She bit her lower lip at her sight. Lixiss in front of her, using her wet and sullied underwear to get off. Her uterus clenched at the sight. All of this looked so delicious in her eyes, making her drool slightly. **\"Mmhhh~ What an obedient and sweet elf you are. Do you like it when I watch you jerk off, hm? Do you want more, my little elf? I can surely give you more~!\"**\n\nAlarah sat back down, spreading her legs wide open. She slowly wandered down with her hands, reaching her destination after a few seconds. **\"Come closer~. Kneel right in between my legs, you hear me~?\"** She waited for him to sit where she told him to sit and then spread her hot, wet pussy apart. A moan escaped her mouth. **\"Mmhh~ You see this? This is all because of how cute you are~. Say, do you want a taste~?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Moaning more and more as she watched him using her underwear to get off, he shivered cutely and drooled as well as he moaned in pleasure. Nodding to all of her words, he was getting more and more excited in his eyes. He would immediately do what she asked him to do, coming over and sitting down right between her legs and look at her gorgeous pussy in excitement. Letting out a cute gasp as she spread it, he would nod to her question. **\"O-Oh.. I-is that really so? I-I would love a taste, please!\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "A moan left her mouth once he got closer to her hot core, watching her entrance clench and get wetter the more he watched. She took her right hand and dived right into her pussy, moaning at the friction it created. Soon. Soon, she would get filled. With a few movements, she coated some of her fingers with her juices and led them towards Lixiss' face. **\"Lick them and then tell me how I taste, my little elf~.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Blushing at the sight of Alarah's juice-covered hands, he couldn't help but smile and happily lick and suck on her wonderful fingers. And oh, was it worth it. The pleasure was amazing and it filled him with a warm feeling, he wanted more. He almost lunged his tongue straight into her pussy afterwards, but managed to compose himself. **\"M-Mhh~ They tasted amazing! I want more...~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "She moaned as he wrapped his tongue around her fingers, licking greedily all of her fingers clean. Once they were clean, it was clear that he wasn't satisfied with just her coated fingers. Too bad that she was in control and not him. Alarah chuckled and took her hand to her mouth to coat it in her saliva before looking at him again. **\"You do? Well, but I want you to watch instead~. Keep on jerking off while I pleasure myself. If you last longer than I do, you get the privilege to lick my hot pussy~.\"**\n\nWithout waiting for a reply, she took her saliva-coated fingers and started caressing her slit. Growing impatient, she spread her slit apart and started to fingerfuck herself lightly. The sensation of being filled lightly made the shifter moan in ecstasy. She slowly picked up her pace, filling the room with her moan." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "**\"Umm.. Well.. If you really insist, miss.\"** He spoke up softly, clearly feeling quite dissatisfied with her treating him this way. But he was all too eager to please and couldn't do anything but obey her. He would take her panties in her hand again and begin jerking off once more, loud moans of pleasure filling the room as he jerked off to his soon to be \"Owner\" Masturbating in front of him. It was tough to last out so long as he was super pent up, but he was doing pretty well so far. **\"Mhh.. F-fuck... I love that you're enjoying yourself with me..~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"Mmmhmm~ You're so hard, aren't you~? Craving to put your hot and thick cock into my warm and tight pussy... Mmmhh~ But you can't yet~. You need to deserve to lick my pussy... Fuck~.\"** She licked her lips and started to breathe heavier. Her uterus started to clench stronger, which could only mean that she needed more than getting fingerfucked. Alarah took her other hand and started to rub her clit. \n\nThe second she started to rub her clit, Alarah lost control over her moans. It just felt so good. Lixiss watching her get off while fingerfucking herself and massaging her clit. All of this felt too good. She could feel her orgasm build up. **\"Mmmm~ You better watch, understood~? I want you to watch me cum...~\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "**\"Y-Yes... I-I understand.. I-I can wait..~\"** He smiled cutely, moaning out louder and louder as she started to rub herself while fingering, making more and more moans as he kept rubbing his cock. He would jerk off faster and faster, he felt even more pleasure. Though he wasn't nearing an orgasm as fast as she was. Nodding to her quickly, he would stare right at her pussy, clearly very excited to see her cum. **\"P-Please, go on~ I want to watch you cum for me..~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Her heartbeat felt so loud in her chest. All she could think about now was to get off and let him lick her pussy. Once again, she increased the pace of both of her hands. She started to fingerfuck herself deeper and moaned even louder. Close. She was getting close to her wonderful orgasm. Alarah put more pressure on her clit, rubbing it more frantically. \n\n**\"Fuck-\"** Everything inside her started to clench, pulling more and more. Her whole body felt hotter and colder at the same time. **\"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes~ Oh, fuuuuckkkkk~!\"** And then it happened. At first, it felt like everything was being sucked into her body, and then a gigantic wave was let loose. A loud moan left her mouth. The fire in her uterus, however, was yet to be stilled." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Watching her explosive orgasm as she fingerfucked herself deep and moaned so much, he couldn't help but get loud as well. He was soon close to an orgasm as well, but he stopped just on the edge as he wanted to wait longer. It was a wonderful sight that made him excited, giggling and smirking. **\"M-Mhh, fuck.. That must have been so nice.. Fuck~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "It took her a few seconds to catch her breath before she could actually say something to him. When she finally breathed normally again, Alarah pulled her fingers out of her pussy slowly while looking Lixiss in his eyes. Her pussy started to clench, mourning the loss of her fingers. Then she licked all of her fingers clean. **\"Mmhmm~ It felt so fucking nice...~ Now come here and eat me out~ I want you to make cum one more time... But don't you dare stop jerking off~!\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "**\"M-Mhhh..~ O-Okay~ But I'm gonna cum really fast if I don't stop...~\"** He blushed a bit as she told him to eat her out. This is what he was waiting for! And he was sure he'd enjoy it~ He would scoot over a little closer to Alarah, before diving his tongue right into her pussy. Moaning slightly as he would keep jerking off slowly, he reached deep inside her with his tongue, hoping she would enjoy it more than her own fingers." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"Ohhh fuuuuckkkkk~\"** His tongue inside her felt incredibly good. It didn't quite feel like how when her fingers had been inside her, but it still felt good. One hand placed itself on his head, grabbing a good chunk of his hair, while the other found its way to one of her nipples, giving it a hard squeeze. Despite the fact that she came mere seconds ago, she could already feel how her body prepared itself for another orgasm. **\"Mhhhmmmmm~ Fuck~ Your tongue feels so fucking good...~ Don't you forget my clit... Give it some attention too~!\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Ah of course. How could he forget about her clitoris. The hand he wasn't already using for his cock would reach up and begin rubbing her clit quickly as he continued pushing the tongue inside and eating her out passionately. He did all he could to make sure she felt amazing, really wanting to please her." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Her head felt light, and it felt like the world was spinning. She threw her head back and moaned loudly. Everything in her mind went blank. All she could do was hold onto his hair while her other hand massaged her tit. The sensitivity after cumming once made this experience even more intense. **\"Don't you dare stop, you hear me...~ I'm so fucking close~!\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "There was no way he would even attempt to stop, moaning out slightly as he kept jerking off slowly while he did all he could to pleasure her and make her feel amazing. He rubbed her really quickly, wanting her to cum a second time, this time all from what he did to her. He was really happy and excited." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "She pressed his face deeper into her pussy, her moans getting uncontrollably loud. At this point, everyone outside must know what they were doing inside this room, but Alarah didn't care. What currently mattered to her was that she was about to cum one more time and that her little elf did a splendid job so far. He definitely needed a reward for making this so good. \n\nThe shifter's heartbeat started to basically jump out of her chest. Her whole blood was rushing. Before she could actually realize what was happening, her back started to arch. All that came out of her mouth were incoherent words. She let go of Lixiss' head and took her time to breath." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Once she came down out of her orgasm, after being pressed against her so much he couldn't help but smirk, giving her clit a little teasing lick before moving his head back, breathing heavily as well. He would let go of his still throbbing cock too, and after just a moment of silence would begin pleading. **\"M-Mhh.. That was so good... U-umm.. I really loved helping you out now but I was wondering... Could we maybe do something to make me cum as well?\"**\n\nThe elf was clearly excited and a bit desperate. He was ready to do anything she instructed him to do though, regardless." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"After such splendid lip service, you definitely need a reward just as good...\"** Alarah carefully stood up. **\"You go sit down on the couch. I will definitely help you with this hard friend of yours~.\"** She let Lixiss sit down before kneeling in front of him, taking her time to take in how thick and hard his member was. The shifter kneeled down in front of him, right in between his legs. Before her, his cock, begging for her attention. \n\nShe took his hot member into her hand and gave him a few strokes before saying what she had in mind. **\"I'm giving you two options, my little elf. Option one, I'm giving you a blowjob you'll never forget. Option two, I'm going to titfuck your brain out. What option are you taking~?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Sitting down on the couch after she told him to do so, he made himself comfy and looked down at her, blushing in surprise as he watched her touch his member so quickly. He moaned loudly and the cock twitched and throbbed in response as she stroked it a little. Listening to the two options she gave him, he had a tough decision to make, but ultimately he would say this to her.\n\n**\"U-Umm.. I-I would really like the titfuck, miss~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "A smile appeared on her full lips. **\"As you wish, my little elf~!\"** Alarah let go of his cock and instead grabbed her G-cup tits. Her eyes were still trained on his face, taking in every motion his face was making. She enveloped his cock with her hot tits, pressing the sides to put more pressure on his member. **\"How does it feel? I'm sure my tits feel great, right~?\"** \n\nShe got closer to her tits and gave his tip a lick, taking in the taste of his precum. It definitely tasted a little salty, but she didn't mind. Alarah gathered her spit and let it drizzle down on cock before starting to move her tits up and down." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Smiling as he watched her grabbing her tits, he would moan out even louder as he felt them envelop his throbbing member, his face getting all hot and bothered. He gently held onto her hair with his hand, nodding to her. **\"M-Mhmm.. I-I fucking love them~\"**\n\nMoaning out cutely as he felt her slippery tongue against his leaking tip, he couldn't help but grip on her hair tighter, making tons of noise as she moved her breasts up and down. His whole body shivered in reaction to the amazing pleasure, at this rate he wouldn't last very long at all." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "It was clear by how much he was moaning that he was getting closer to his release. She chuckled and then moaned at how he reacted to her moving her tits up and down. All of his moans sounded like music in her ears. With a stronger grip on her tits, she increased the tempo. On top of that, she started to lick and suck on his member, keeping eye contact with him throughout it all. She wanted him to see how much he was under her control." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Moaning cutely and loudly as she kept on moving her gorgeous tits up and down over his dick, he couldn't help but smile in the pleasure that he was feeling, moaning louder and louder. **\"M-Mhh.. F-fuck, y-yes!!!\"** He moaned out just before he began to cum, filling her mouth with his delicious cum. Shooting quite a nicely sized load, he would shiver all over the couch and hold her head down with his hand, just before letting her go and letting his hand drop on the couch next to him. **\"M-Mhh.. F-fuck.. G-god that was amazing..\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Before Alarah raised her head, she swallowed his load and then proceeded to lick Lixiss' cock clean. He tasted a little salty, but she didn't mind it. With a pop, she raised her head, licking her lips when she looked her elf into his eyes. **\"Mmmh~ I sure hope it was. I would have been very sad if you didn't like it.\"** She stood up and looked down on him. **\"Now be a good boy and stand up. I want you to taste how you taste before I decide what to do next with you.\"**\n\n||" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Blushing a bit as he stared back down into her eyes, he would let out a soft giggle in response and nod, quickly standing up once more as she told him to. **\"T-Taste how I taste? W-What do you mean?\"** He looked slightly confused, though smiling at her, showing how happy he was.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "She chuckled. **\"Well, your load ended up in my mouth, didn't it? Especially since you decided to push me down.\"** One of her hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. Her other hand lifted his chin, to make him look at her. **\"I'm going to kiss you, and then I'll see if you're allowed to fuck my tight pussy.\"** Alarah let go of his chin and moved her hands toward his ass, starting to massage it again." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Blushing brightly in embarrasment as she pulled him close to herself, moaning out softly and biting his lip as she massaged his ass. **\"M-Mhh.. O-okay, m-miss~ t-that works for me..~\"** He closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss her." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"Good boy~!\"** Without hesitation, she dipped down and kissed him passionately. She caressed his tongue with hers and occasionally sucked on his lip or his tongue while massaging his ass. The taste of his cum was still on her tongue, but it slowly mixed with the taste of his saliva. Now, it tasted salty, but weirdly also sweet. It should have contradicted itself. However, it somehow fit together perfectly." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Whining out cutely into the passionate kiss, he smiled happily and gasped as h felt her tongue being caressed by hers, closing his eyes and kissing her more passionately as he felt the taste combining inside his mouth. He adored it and made sure to enjoy it while it lasted." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "By how eager he reacted to her kisses, it was evident that her companion needed a little more than just their kisses. Feeling mischievous, she decided to tease him even more. As payback for pushing her head down. One of her hands lifted, leaving his thick ass cheek unattended. Alarah pressed her tongue deeper into his mouth so that she could swallow each sound that might come from Lixiss. And then she let her hand race down his ass, spanking him." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Feeling her suddenly lift his hand and then begin pressing her tongue deepr and making their kiss more passionate, he was clearly excited as he expected something great to happen. To his surprise, the only thing that happened was that he got spanked afterwards, his whine getting swallowed by her mouth.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "His whimpers were like music to her. They did make her already wet pussy drip even more, but it wasn't enough in her eyes. Not quite satisfied by his reactions quite yet, she first massaged the spanked cheek and then raced down again. This time, it was a little harder. Alarah continued to press her tongue into his mouth as she spanked his ass until her handprint was slightly visible. \n\nShe ended the kiss and looked Lixiss into his eyes. **\"And~? Did you like your taste?\"** The shifter started to massage his tender ass checks while talking to him. With a hum, she made it visible how satisfied she was with her work. **\"Do you like it when I play with your ass? Do you want me to play with it more~?\"**\n\n||" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Whining out to each of the spanks that she was giving him he couldn't help but gasp in pleasure, giggling cutely and moaning out into her kiss. Once the kiss was ended, he would pull away slightly and blush to her questions, clearly surprised at what she was asking him. **\"Umm.. Y-yeah, I liked the taste.\"** Now audibly moaning thanks to her massaging his ass cheeks, he stared into her eyes cutely. **\"Y-Yeah.. I-I really like it.. D-do you wanna play with it more?\"** He asked, clearly very interested.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "If she wanted to play more with his ass? Why, of course! A hum left her lips as she caressed his tender cheeks. What to do, though? She could just go ahead and spank him more, but her hand would get tender, too, at one point. Another issue was that Alarah's pussy got needier. Just being fingered didn't cut it anymore. Then, an idea popped up in her mind. Alarah took her hands and started to spread his cheeks. There was a way for both of them to have fun. \n\n**\"Say, Lixiss.\"** She squeezed his ass harder. **\"You'd do anything for me, right?\"** Alarah let go of him and stepped a few steps away. The shifter pointed toward a bag next to the couch they had been sitting on. Inside were several sex toys, including a double-take strap-on. **\"Open that bag and take the double-take dildo.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Letting out soft, cute moans, he smiled at the feeling of her playing with his little cheeks, but he was also getting a bit needy and wondering what she could do with him next. Then, noticing the excitement and spark in her eyes, he would moan out slightly as she spread his cute butt. Nodding to her question enthusiastically, he would look towards the bag placed conveniently next to the couch. Walking over to it as she commanded, he would take out the double dildo and show it to her with an excited smile. **\"Do you umm.. Plan for us to both use the dildo..?\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "His excitement didn't go unnoticed. Alarah closed their distance and took the dildo into her hands. This was a special dildo made for pegging and pleasuring the women doing it. The crooked dildo was about 5 inches long and had a big enough grith to let the dildo stay inside her. The other part of the dildo was about 10 inches long, and its grith wasn't too bad either. She took the crooked part and carefully inserted it into her wet and needy pussy. Now, it almost looked like she had a dick on her own.\n\nShe licked her lips. **\"Inside the bag is also a bottle of lube. I want you to take it, put it on my dick, then to lean on the couch, and then to spread this beautiful ass of yours. Show me your slut hole, you understand?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Staring at her as she put the shorter part of the dick in her pussy, he was getting more hot and bothered at the sight, clearly wanting this much more than was visible. He would immediately nod to her request and come back to the bag, taking out the bottle of lube inside and then, after returning, beginning to rub it all over her dick and giggling happily. **\"I was hoping you would do this.. I'm so happy!\"** He would then do as she asked, walking over and leaning onto the couch and spreading his ass slowly with his heads, his hole all ready to be penetrated by her. **\"P-Please don't keep me waiting any longer~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"As you wish~!\"** The shifter took her new body part and positioned it right at his hole. Before Alarah started to spread him, she took her time to rub her cock against Lixiss. He should feel how hard this dildo was and how relentless she would fuck him. She would fuck his brains out until he begged her to stop. No, until he wasn't able to form a coherent sentence anymore. The thought alone made her pussy clench deliciously.\n\nAfter preparing his ass for her thick cock, she started to press herself into his tight hole. A moan left her mouth, feeling the resistance of his tightness. That didn't stop Alarah, though. Instead, she slowly pressed herself in until all of the 10 inches were inside him. Fuck- Lixiss was so tight. If this dildo would have been an actual cock, she definitely would have come at how tight he was. **\"Mmmhh~ Good boy~! Taking my whole cock... Tell me, how does it feel to be filled by me~?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "He would let out cute moans as he felt her cock positioned against his hole, smiling in excitement as he felt the hard dildo pushing up into it. He was excited and ready to feel what pleasure she would show him, and it would soon reveal itself as he suddenly felt her hard, thick cock push all the way inside his little hole. Moaning out in pleasure from the wonderful rod inside him, he would already cum at the size he felt inside him, some cum dripping onto the couch below them. Looking over to her slightly, he softly spoke. **\"M-Mhh, a-ahh.. F-fuck.. I-it feels amazing..~ s-so good!~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"Did you just cum? I didn't allow you to cum, you naughty elf~. Guess that means I'll have to punish you~!\"** Her pace had been slow at first, wanting him to adjust to his ass being spread. This, however, was against what she had originally planned for him. Now, she almost pulled out completely and then rammed it into his ass hard. To stabilize herself, she grabbed him by his hair and pulled it. Her other free hand gave him an occasional spank while she rammed her cock deep into him.\n\nIt was almost like her rhythm was supposed to break him. Alarah fucked him hard and fast without showing him any mercy. Her moans started to fill the room as she watched him arch his back for her. **\"You fucking slut dared to cum without me allowing you! You know better now, right~? Answer me, you hear me?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "**\"N-No, I-I didn't mean to, I promise! I-It sort of just happened-\"** He tried to apologise to her and explain himself, but as she suddenly started to ram herself so harshly inside his tight hole, he would begin moaning louder and louder again, clearly still absolutely loving it despite of the slight pain he also felt. Arching quite far back for her huge cock, he would nod to her question quickly and desperately, his mind getting a bit fuzzy from the rough fucking. **\"I-I do, I-I do.. I-I know much better now! I-I'm s-sorry. M-miss, please forgive me!\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "With a slap on his ass, she started to slow down. Alarah wasn't done with her punishment though. No, just a 'please forgive me' didn't suffice her. This punishment would be torture for him. Her pace got painfully slow. She pulled it out slowly and then put it in slowly again. For him, it certainly felt like this would never end, but to her, it was more than just fun. Lixiss' sweet ass was supposed to remember her after all. \n\nThe shifter continued the pace for about three minutes until she gave his ass a quick spank and started to fuck him hard again. She continued to alternate between fast and slow." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Suddenly feeling her slow down was painful, as it was nowhere near as fun or pleasurable as when she was pouding her hard. He wasn't happy with this pace at all and wanted her to go faster again, moaning out only softly. He was more excited once she sped up again, only to be disappointed by the slow movements after a while once more. What's worse, he already almost wanted to cum again, despite knowing he could not. So he softly spoke.\n\n**\"P-Please miss.. I-I'll do anything to make it up to you, really! I-I'm open to anything, just please, please stop torturing me! I beg you..\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"You'll do anything, huh?\"** She leaned closer to one of his ears and whispered to him. **\"I want you to scream my name so loud everyone in this building will know you belong to me. Not miss. Call me by my fucking name, you hear me~?\"** With that being said, she started to move again, but this time with the right past. Alarah still pounded his ass, this time much gentler than the other times. To tease him even more, she started to press her tits against his back while nibbling on his ear." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Blushing quite brightly at the words whispered into his ear, he would nod quickly. Feeling her pounding him in a more pleasurable way again, he would moan out loudly to her cock's movements, gasping as he felt her tease her with her tits and nibbling. But then, he would begin loudly screaming her name, loud enough that the whole building could hear his tired voice calling his new owner's name. **\"A-Ahhh! A-Alarah! F-Fuck! M-Mhh.. K-keep going, Alarah! Y-You're going to make me cum again..\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"Yes~ Let the whole fucking building hear who you belong to~!\"** Lixiss screaming her name was more than just music in her ears. It was perfection. Alarah got back up and grabbed him by his hips. Fuck- The dildo inside her started to make her want to cum too. She needed more friction. Again, she started to pick up the pace, but this time much gentler than the first time. Occasionally she would spank his ass. **\"Fuck~ Lixiss, your fucking hole is such a good hole~\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Moaning out cutely, he would keep screaming out her name loudly along with the lewd noises that came out of his mouth. He whined cutely as she grabbed him and fucked him faster and faster once more, making more noises of pleasure than before. Surprised by how good he felt, he would look back towards her. **\"M-Mhh.. F-fuck yes- t-thank you, A-Alarah~ y-you're s-so amazing in my ass..~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "She gave his pretty ass another slap before leaning down again to pump his hard cock with her hand. Her other hand found its way to his nipple, teasing it by pinching and massaging it. Alarah wanted him to lose his mind at the immense amount of pleasure she was giving him. **\"My little elf is getting fucked so hard~ You like it, huh~? Being fucked in your ass by your master~?\"** She started to nibble on his ear again, giving it a lot of love." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Moaning out louder again, he would nod as she began to pump his cock and tease his little nipples. If he was going to lose his mind, this was it: He felt absolutely amazing like this. **\"Y-Yes, m-mmhm~ I-I love it when master fucks my ass so hard! F-Fuck.. I-I'm gonna cum! A-Ahh!\"** He kept moaning louidly, his cock throbbing wildly and his whole body shaking as she continued pounding him." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Fuck. This scene was so fucking hot; she could almost feel herself cum just by watching him be this much in ecstasy, and the best part about it was that she was the reason for it. A shudder went down her spine at the thought. She squeezed his nipple and then let go of it to give her little elf a hard slap on his ass. Alarah surely would never grow tired of how Lixiss reacted to her this well. The shifter started to pump him harder. \n\n**\"You better listen up, you hear me?\"** Her hand that pumped him started to massage his tip. **\"I give you permission to cum, but don't you dare spill even an ounce of it outside of my palm~ I want you to see the amount you came because I fucked your ass~!\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Feeling her pump him harder and then simply begin to massage his tip, he would moan out very loudly in pleasure, nodding to her. **\"Y-Yes, a-ahh! F-fuck, I'm cumming!\"** He let out a very loud groan as he released his load onto her palm, trying his best to control the bursts of cum into not spilling anywhere aside from her palm. It was coated in a good layer of his lovely sperm, he almost seemed to have cum more than from when she gave him the titfuck. Breathing heavily and whining a bit. He would collapse on the couch and let out a happy sigh. **\"O-Oh, wow... That felt amazing~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Alarah hummed at him cumming, loving to hear him groan and then cumming into her palm. Her hand felt so warm and sticky. She licked her lips at the amount. If she hadn't promised to show him the amount of his cum, Alarah wouldn't have hesitated to drink his cum. Maybe another time. The shifter carefully exserted herself from his ass, taking in the scene she left behind. Lixiss was lying collapsed on the couch while she stood above him with his cum in her hand. \n\n**\"I'm happy that you're happy, but there is one thing that needs to be done yet.\"** Alarah took her hand and showed him how much he came. **\"You see this? That's the evidence of the pleasure I gave you~\"** She licked her lips and took her hand, smearing his cum on her dildo. **\"Oopsie~ I think it needs a little clean-up now~.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "He gasped cutely at the feeling of her removing herself from his ass, looking up at her happily and smiling. He giggled a little as he watched her standing above him with the cum in her hand, blushing slightly at the sight of the amount. Biting his lip a little, he knew exactly what she wanted him to do with it. **\"I-I see..~ o-on it!\"** \n\nWithout hesitation, he would come over to her and start sucking her dildo, taking it quite deep inside his mouth and cleaning up all of the cum that she smeared over it. Looking up at her after he was finished, he let out a soft giggle. **\"Mhmm.. That's done~ All clean for you, miss Alarah!~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"Good boy~!\"** The shifter gently patted Lixiss' head as she praised him. **\"Now be a good and stand up. Your cute little butt took quite some beating, and it needs to be cared for.\"** She stretched out both hands to help the elf stand up. Alarah had the tendency to get a little rough when it came to spanking, so she knew that her hand prints must be pretty visible now. Feeling a little guilty about she decided to massage him first. That was the least she could do.\n\nWith his hands in hers, she walked toward the couch, letting go once they stood right before it. Alarah removed the dildo from inside her, moaning at the loss. Then she took out some body lotion from the bag where the dildo and lube had been. Now, she was able to care for him properly. She sat down and smiled at him. **\"Come here, my lovely elf.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Blushing a little at the pats, he giggled a little. Standing up with her help, he would follow her back towards the couch and sit with her. Sitting on her lap with his legs somewhat wrapped around her waist, he would let out a soft giggle and look up at her. His butt was aching slightly, but it looked to be a bit worse than that, as it was a full red colour from all the spanks, not to mention the hand prints. \n\n**\"I-I didn't wanna bother you with taking care of it, but.. W-well if you insist~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Bother her with it? Pfff, please. This wasn't a bother in her eyes. After-care was the least she could do after spanking him so roughly. And, in her eyes, sex was a give and take. She took him, in the literal sense, and now she would give him a massage so that he wouldn't feel too sore after this session. **\"Lixiss, in all honesty, this isn't a bother. I'm taking responsibility for doing this. Now be a good boy and lay down, your ass toward me so that I can put the lotion on it.\"** \n\nAlarah put some lotion on her hands and warmed it up a little before putting it on his ass. The marks on his ass were quite red, making her feel slightly bad but also a little proud. Her elf had been so brave for enduring her spanks. **\"I'm so sorry for leaving such marks on this wonderful ass of yours. I tend to get on the rough side with spanks when I'm in the heat of the moment.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Nodding to her, he would lay down as she said, showing her his delightful ass to let her put lotion on it. Letting out soft groans as she began to massage his cute little butt, clearly enjoying the relief and massage as much as he enjoyed receiving them. **\"No need to apologise.. I-I actually really enjoyed receiving them~ It made me feel very good~\"** He was blushing, clearly a bit embarrassed to admit it to her. He would stare back in front of himself so he wouldn't keep his body twisted in such a weird way and he began to ask her. **\"So.. What's the plan after this is over?\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "She chuckled at him, saying it felt good. Of course, it did. Alarah had fucked him to the moon and back. It was affirming to hear him say it, though. Obviously, it didn't excuse her from making him feel sore, but it did make her feel less bad about it. And his cute blush didn't go unnoticed by her. Her hands continued to massage his ass and lower back while he asked her about her plans. Indeed, it was a good question.\n\nGenerally, the shifter wasn't very fond of literally buying slaves to have sex with them. She was very keen on consent for actions being done, and having a slave do something wasn't exactly a matter of consent. What was clear, though, was that she would buy Lixiss. Yes, she would buy him, but not to force him into a new prison. Alarah sighed. This was an interesting situation she got herself in.\n\n**\"I will buy you, that's for sure. However, I won't keep you as a slave. I want you to feel free to decide what to do after this. You are a being that can choose its path, not some animal without free will.\"** She closed her eyes for a second. **\"I'm pretty sure you don't have a lot of support from outside, I'll provide for you for now. Once you have decided what to do with your life, you can leave whenever you want.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Letting out more cute noises as she kept massaging his butt, he would giggle and shake a little in response to the pleasurable feeling of her touch. Resting his head against the couch, he sighed in response. \n\n**\"I've longed for freedom the entire time I was here, and now that I am supposed to leave... I am a bit scared of coming into such an uncertain situation. I thought I'd be a slave longer than this.\"** Shaking his head slightly, he would close his eyes and continue. **\"My situation is a lot more complicated than you could ever imagine, miss. I really don't know what I'm supposed to do, what I am even able to do.. Am I able to go back to my life before this?\"**\n\nHe was deeply thinking about it. It seemed to have hit him like a brick, and he was trying to figure out the answer to these questions right then and there." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Right. She forgot to think about this possibility. Alarah even forgot that his life might have been very dangerous before entering this place. Great thinking. A sigh left her mouth. **\"I honestly don't know what you have been through and if you're even able to return to your former life. What I do know is that you're safe for now, at least. My family and I can protect you as long as you need protection. That goes without question.\"**\n\nSince she lived alone in her penthouse, none of her parents would actually care if another person lived there. Both of her brothers were out of town most of the time anyway. That didn't clear his worries, though. Alarah's mind was working pretty hard on a solution for this. Then, an idea struck her. \n\n**\"You know, I might have an idea how to help you out. How about you sit properly first before we talk about it?\"** She helped him sit next to her and then continued to articulate her thoughts. **\"I'm a singer and fashion model, so I have a very tight schedule usually and a lot of things to keep in mind. My manager's been handling most of it, but I need a lot of help with staying on time for rehearsals, fittings, and so on. And it's tiring me out a lot, too, you know~?\"**\n\nIt wasn't necessarily a lie. Alarah was pretty busy because of her career, and her manager was already packed with keeping things in order. **\"So, how about you acting as my assistant? You would join me on business trips, help me choose outfits for events, and help me, you know, relax~. How does that sound?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Sitting up on the couch next to her and listening to her articulating her thoughts, she could feel hisface being washed over in worry. He was thinking quite quite deeply about his past life in his previous worlds, and the baggage that his patron brought him... At first he wanted to return, but in Alarah's company, he thought that maybe he'd enjoy not working against his will for once in his life. Reluctantly, he would nod to her, before softly speaking up.\n\n**\"Well... I would absolutely love that. I couldn't ask for anything more, your proposition is amazing. But I do need you to know... I am a very dangerous person.. Especially if they remove my magic blockers from me, I might bring you into a lot of danger. I might even get you killed... So you need to be sure you're willing to take that risk.\"** He would let out a saddened sigh, continuing. **\"I doubt your family will be able to protect you from this, trust me.\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Magic was one of the least things she had to worry about, but Lixiss couldn't possibly know that. It was very adorable that he was worried for her and her family, though. Alarah cupped his face and gave him a light kiss on his lips. He was such a nice boy. They barely knew each other a day, and he wanted her to protect her from his trouble. **\"You know, my family isn't a normal family. Why don't I show you?\"**\n\nThe shifter stood up and stretched out her left arm. Transforming an arm and her eyes would be enough to prove her point. A light hum resonated in the room, and something similar to a magic aura surrounded Alarah. Then, something in the aura snapped, and a new appearance of her arm came into the light. Her arm was no longer soft and covered with skin. It was now covered in dark brown fur. Where once her neat-looking nails used to be were now razor-sharp claws. \n\nHer arm was now no longer human but that of an animal. A wolf.\n\nShe focused her eyes on Lixiss. He should see her eyes once they were different. Her golden eyes stayed the same in color but slowly changed to the ones of a wolf. Once she was done with shifting her appearance, she smiled gently at him. Hopefully, her little elf wasn't grossed out by her now rough-looking appearance. **\"As you can see, you don't need to worry about danger. My family and I are wolf-shifters. And we come in packs, so don't worry. I'm very confident that we're able to support and protect you.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "From the gasp that came out of his mouth, the wonder in his eyes and the slight blush on his face, she could tell he didn't mind her being this way and maybe even enjoyed the fact. He would nod slightly, smiling towards her and answering her as he stood up and walked towards her, shaking her wolf-hand gently.\n\n**\"Well, in that case.. It seems it's decided. I'll happily become your assistant and work for you. And I'll be protected from my past by you!\"**\n\nLetting out a cute giggle, he would then gently hug her, before shyly asking.\n\n**\"So, umm.. What is it that an assistant would do, anyway?\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Alarah shifted her arm back to her human form and let her eyes stay as they were. It didn't hurt her, and honestly, she could bother less about how they looked now that Lixiss showed that he didn't care. She quickly wrapped her arms around him and enjoyed the hug they were sharing. **\"You can bet on that! I will also shower you in love, buy you lovely things, and you get to fuck my tight pussy~!\"** \n\nHer eyes shifted toward Lixiss. It was plausible that he wouldn't know what being an assistant meant. **\"Well, mostly, it's reminding me of my schedule and that I'm on time. It would also mean that you'd accompany me on trips, you'd help me choose outfits for every occasion, and you'd make sure that I'm well.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Smiling as they shared their hug, he would giggle cutely and blush to her comment, softly speaking. **\"I-I would never say no to that! That's just a umm.. Cherry on top!\"** \n\nListening to her talk about all his duties as her assistant, he seemed quite interested and responsible in his look, making sure he knew what his job was. **\"Oh, I see! Yeah, I can definitely do that much. Finally, a job I can be good at!\"** He would finish with a soft giggle and then let go of her, walking backwards slowly.\n\n**\"So.. Not to rush things, but.. Could we please leave this horrible, horrible building soon...?\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "She smiled at her elf. **\"We sure can, my sweet elf.\"** Alarah sighed, however. **\"But I was hoping you'd fill me with that thick cock of yours first. I guess that can wait though...\"** The shifter let go of Lixiss and headed toward her clothes. Wow. She had expected that it would be a mess, but her dress was now all tangled and her panties she couldn't wear. It wasn't like she cared to be honest. \n\nAlarah picked up her dress and Lixiss' clothes, and put them on the couch. Maybe should just call her driver, and let him buy some clothes for her and Lixiss. The clothes her elf had worn before definitely didn't look too comfortable. **\"Sweetheart, I'll call my driver to bring us some clothes. What is your size?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Hearing the disappointment in her voice, he would softly speak. **\"W-Well no, no we don't have to.. We could have done it if you really wanted. I want to do what you want.\"** \n\nHe hated anything and everything about this place and she could tell from how saddened he looked thinking about it. Clearly not caring about the clothes, he was still thinking about what he would wear. Once she broke the silence however, he would softly tell her. **\"Oh... It's Small. Just tell your driver to buy me a cute dress, and please don't spend a lot on me, it's not necessary, really.\"** Smiling at her as he said this, he was clearly slightly excited to wear something new, but he didn't seem to come to grasp the fact that she was rich and this likely wouldn't even put a dent in her pocket. He was just from a different environment and would probably never understand." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"Lixiss, I already told you I won't do anything you don't like. Besides, who said you couldn't fuck me in the car~.\"** She winked at him and pulled out her phone from her bag while she listened to him talk. Not spending a lot on him, huh? Yeah, she would do it regardless. Alarah dialed her driver, who picked up after a few seconds and then talked to him quickly.\n\n**\"Hi, Mr. Lloyd. My appointment is done now, so you should come and pick me up. You should, however, pick up some clothes for me and a guest I'm going home with. We had...\"** Her eyes filled with lust as she remembered why they needed new clothes. **\"...Some issues with something, which led to our clothes being ruined. The size? Oh, call Maya and ask her for my size. As for the guest, S should suffice. Exactly. Thank you! Call me when you arrive here. Until later.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "**\"Oh... Well I suppose I'd prefer that to this place..\"** He said shyly, blushing quite deeply as she winked at him, then listening to her speak to her driver.\n\nHearing she didn't say anything about being cheap with it, he softly spoke to her after she was done. **\"I told you to tell him not to spend much on me! What if he'll buy something expensive...\"** Letting out a soft sigh afterwards, he looked around and thought for a bit. **\"So.. I suppose we wait here until he arrives? It would kinda defeat the whole point of the clothes if we left the building naked...\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "And there he was, worrying again. Her lovely elf surely worried a little too much. **\"Don't worry about that. My dress covers my ass well enough without me having to worry to flash someone. You'd have to wear your clothes from before though, but I promise not for long. Besides, my driver will be here in about 15 minutes. That gives me enough time to finish the transaction, as well as you to get rid of your blockers. Can you endure those 15 minutes?\"**\n\nShe gave him a hug and kissed him lovingly on his lips. **\"I'm sure those 15 minutes will go by like nothing. And, if you're a good boy enduring it...\"** She leaned down and whispered into his ear. **\"I'll allow you to use my mouth however you want once we're in my car. How does that sound?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Nodding to her words slowly after she reassured him, he would slightly smile towards her and agree, trying to calm down.**\"Y-Yeah, okay I can put on the clothes.. Dunno if taking the blockers off is a good idea. Maybe you should just.. Find out how to do it if we need to.\"**\n\nHe would blush a bit to the kiss, kissing her back cutely and hugging tightly, feeling much calmer now, even if a bit embarrassed by her suggestion. **\"O-Ohh.. W-well that does sound nice, but.. I'd prefer to fuck you there instead, just like you wanted.\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Alarah laughed wholeheartedly at his cute reaction. **\"Sweetheart, who said it would just end at that? My pussy didn't get a taste of you yet, so you better prepare. I'm insatiable when it comes to penetrative sex~\"** She gave him a kiss on his cheek and let him go so that she could take care of her dress. Thankfully, it was an easy dress to wear. It took her a few seconds to put the dress on. Once she was done, her attention shifted back to Lixiss.\n\n**\"Take your time with dressing up. Now, they won't be able to tell you anything. Tell me when you're ready. Ok?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Giggling to the kiss slightly, he would adorably blush at her in her words, softly speaking. **\"O-Oh.. W-well yeah then, I'm more than happy about that~\"** He giggled a bit and began to put his clothes on, seeming to go very slowly, but in just a while he'd also have them on despite of how needlessly complicated the clothes were.\n\n**\"Y-Yeah, I'm ready.. Let's go.\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"Alright! Let's head out then.\"** Alarah went towards the door and opened it for the both of them. An employee stood before her, bowing in front of her. So they had stationed someone here, huh? Well, good that they would leave soon. She waited for Lixiss to leave the room so that she could take his arm and cross it with hers. That weird employee should see that everything is alright. \n\nThey walked toward the responsible person, and Alarah put up her business smile. **\"Hello there~ After spending some time with his lovely elf, I have now decided to purchase him. How about we head toward the office to finalize, and he gets his blockers taken off? I'm in a hurry, you see?\"** The person nodded and led her toward the office. **\"I will be right back, sweetheart!\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Following outside right after her, he had a smile on his face until he saw the person outside and was suddenly pulled in to cross his arm with hers. He didn't mind though and smiled slightly as they were walking toward the auctioneer, his face a bit less relaxed once he sees the familiar face. **\"O-Okay.. I-I'll wait here!\"**\n\nHe would stand there, filled with fear as he felt like he was all alone again. The only company he had were the other employees who were around, most of whom knew him and he did not particularly like. He was just hoping they would be done faster than any of the others tried to touch him." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Thankfully, it took only a short time for everything to be finalized. The auctioneer handed her all the important documents she needed, noting internally to meet her lawyer at one point to help her make Lixiss an official citizen and resident in her home. They shook hands, and the auctioneer showed her the way to Lixiss. Thank goodness they could finally leave this awful place. Alarah arrived with a smile and gave him a quick pat on his head. **\"Well done~. Now, let's leave this establishment, or I might wreak havoc in here.\"**\n\nAlarah's driver was now in front of the building. She quickly let Lixiss enter the car before she talked to Lloyd. **\"Just so you know, you don't need to direct drive home. Make it a long city cruise. Oh, and don't forget to put up the wall. It will get loud.\"** Her driver nodded and she got into the car, sitting down next to Lixiss. **\"So, my sweet elf. How does having your freedom back?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "He smiled happily, blushing as she pat him. He was all too happy to leave and grabbed her hand to slowly start to walk out of the room, hoping he would never have to return. **\"Oh.. D-didn't know you hated it as much as I did.\"** He giggled, leaning against her while they walked.\n\nOnce they reached the car, he would immediately enter the back and wait for her, blushing slightly as he heard what she said to the driver. Blushing a bit as she sat down next to him, he would softly begin speaking. **\"U-Umm.. Y-yeah, it feels very good. I'm happy to be able to do what I want for once. And getting to keep you company as well..\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "The shifter had to smile at what he said. It was good that he enjoyed his freedom, and it made Alarah even happier that she played a part in it. Now that they were in the car and finally going away from that horrible place, she felt much more in the mood. One of her fingers reached his lips, tapping it slowly. **\"Now, my sweet little elf, what do you want to do first? I know I'm just getting wet at the thought of you finally getting to fuck my tight pussy~\"**\n\nShe pressed her legs together, feeling her insides clench at the thought of him filling her. **\"But I did promise to suck that thick cock of yours. Before that, I need to see if my memory serves me right. Do your lips still feel so soft~?\"** Alarah licked her lips." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Seeming a bit overwhelmed by the sudden flood of options thrown his way, he would blush and seriously consider his options before answering her in any way. Feeling her tapping at his lips made him even a bit more nervous, letting out a soft giggle as he looked over to her. **\"Umm... Well... I would love to do either of those things, I don't really need that blowjob if you'd rather have me fuck you already~\"**\n\nAt her next question, he seemed simply confused, wondering what her plans were and why she was asking this question. **\"Hmm.. Well.. I suppose they do.. Why wouldn't they be soft..?\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"Well, it seems like I forgot just how soft they are... Say, if I stole a kiss from you, would you be opposed to that~?\"** Alarah got closer to Lixiss and took a strand of his hair into her hands, playing with it softly as she looked him deep into his eyes. She took the strand closer to her mouth and gave it a light kiss. **\"Or I could just take the kiss and make you moan in ecstasy. Either way, it's your choice.\"**\n\nWithout telling him her next move, Alarah sat down on Lixiss' lap and put her arms around his shoulders. She used her weight to press against his groin with her core, licking her lips. **\"I sure love hearing you moan, but even more, if you moan while I drown those with my mouth~!\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Looking into Alarah's eyes while she played with his hair, he couldn't help but stare deeply into her eyes. He got very embarrassed as she kissed his hair, getting all shy and looking away from her, giggling a bit. His embarrassment would only get bigger as she sat in his lap, his cock getting lightly erect as she did, looking up towards her again.\n\n**\"U-Uhmm... W-well.. I-I have to say I wouldn't be opposed to a kiss from you.. Definitely w-wouldn't complain..\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "She chuckled and rolled her hips against his groin to tease him more. Alarah just loved the expression he did when he felt embarrassed, and she was the reason he felt that way. A shiver went down her spine as she increased her weight against his groin, feeling his now lightly erected member. **\"Is that so? My~ This elf sure knows what I like to hear~!\"**\n\nThe shifter got closer to Lixiss and pressed a light kiss on his lips. **\"Stick out your tongue~ I want to remember your sweet taste too~\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Growing ever embarrassed as he heard her chuckle, he would nod a little and whine once more to the feeling of her pushing into his crotch and feeling his erect cock. Nodding to her slightly, he'd close his eyes once she leaned in to gently kiss him, which made him really happy.\n\n**\"R-Right, s-sorry..-\"** He spoke, seeming almost a little worried he was doing something wrong. He would stick his tongue out slowly and show it to her, so that she could get back in." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"Aww, no need to worry, my sweet elf. I'm just impatient to properly kiss you~.\"** Alarah licked her lips and dove right into his mouth, pushing her tongue against his. A light moan escaped her mouth as she felt the sweet taste of his saliva coming back to her. She let her tongue dance against his, as she felt his member growing stiffer. \n\nAs she kissed him more, Alarah knew she needed to taste more. The shifter sucked on Lixiss' lower lip and then let him go with a pop. Then, she slowly made her way to his neck, giving him kisses and leaving traces in the form of hickeys. While Alarah did that, her hand traveled down his body underneath his clothes and then started to massage his erect member." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "**\"Oh... Oh! Well, o-okay..~\"** He would giggle cutely and gasp into their lovely kiss, his body leaning against hers as their tongues danced together imprisoned by their mouths. He couldn't help but pull her in closer by her hips, making sure she straddled him properly.\n\nFeeling how hard he was getting underneath her, it was a relieve to feel her take his erect cock in hand and begin massaging it, his now freed mouth making lots of cute, loud noises of pleasure as she kissed his neck while massaging his cock. He would squirm under her and almost start to hump her hand a little, clearly quite excited to get to use his member. **\"O-Oh.. M-mhh...~ s-shit that's so good..~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"Hmmm~ You like this? Like it when I stroke your hot, meaty cock with my delicate hand~?\"** She let go of his cock just to tease his tip with her palm. **\"I can't wait to nearly choke on this dick of yours~. Do you want that? Your cock deep in my throat~?\"** Alarah let go of him again to put some spit on her hand to lubricate it. Then she carefully wrapped her hand around his member again, her pussy clenching at his hot member in her hand.\n\n**\"Mmmmhh~ I'm sure your cock will really like my warm tight throat. Fuck~ My pussy clenches in anticipation just thinking about it.\"** Alarah got off his lap, letting go of Lixiss so that she could sit down in front of him. She put one of her hands on his knees while the other was pulling down the sip of her dress. **\"Now be a good boy and open your pants. Your mistress is getting impatient~!\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Nodding to her words quickly, he would moan out cutely as she continued to tease him with her palm and then hand. Blushing adorably to her words, his nodding clearly showed how excited he was to do this with her. **\"M-Mhmm.. G-god yes, I want it so much~\"** He gently held onto her shoulder with one of his hands, holding onto her for a while, only to let go once she started to get up.\n\n**\"O-Oh.. O-of course, s-sorry!\"** He would lift himself up slightly and unzip his pants, then quickly slide them down lower than they were, doing the same with his panties. He let them drop to the ground around his legs and his cock now stood up, fully erect and slightly throbbing, wanting more attention. Of course, Lixiss wouldn't even think of touching it, letting her do the honours. **\"I-I'll definitely love this so much.. Fuck, it will definitely feel amazing to be inside your throat~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "With his cock now free from any restriction, Alarah took the initiative and blew a gust of wind on his tip before giving it a light kiss. **\"You know, this will be one of the only times you will have the chance to actually dominate me. Better savor this~!\"** That being said, she went ahead and took his cock into her mouth. The shifter swirled her tongue around Lixiss' dick and created a light vacuum. \n\nShe moved her head slowly up and down while her eyes stayed on him, watching all of his reactions. The look in her eyes intensified once she got the taste of his pre-cum. Through her eyes, she gave him permission to push her head down as much as he wanted. Good thing she had no gag reflex." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Nodding slightly, he was quite proud and happy to be able to share this moment with her. Feeling her blow on it and then take the cock in her mouth, he would squirm and moan out quite loudly, grabbing into the seat quickly. **\"O-Ohh.. G-god! Fuck.. T-that's so good, yes!\"**\n\nClosing his eyes for a moment as she continued to move her head up and down, he would only after a while notice the intense look inside her eyes. He would immediately grab her head by the hair and push it down all the way to his base, holding her there for a good while, his cock lightly pulsating inside her throat. He would softly moan out further. **\"M-Mhhh.. O-ohh.. F-fuck y-yes, Alarah~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**Yes!** As Lixiss pushed his cock deep into her throat, Alarah's eyes rolled back slightly. Fuck- Getting throat-fucked was so hot. She pushed her tongue away as well as she could so that Lixiss could enjoy the texture of her throat even more. Her long nails pressed themselves into Lixiss' legs. If he continued to just press her down, Alarah would have trouble breathing. \n\nNormally, she wouldn't do that, but since Lixiss didn't know about her low gag reflex, she made light gagging noises. Good thing that she decided to do that. Her head started to feel dizzy." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "**\"O-Ohh.. Y-yes~ god yes~\"** Lixiss moaned out, closing his eyes and seemingly not thinking much about what he was doing. He just moaned in pleasure from her throat, keeping her there for a rather long while, despite feeling her nails dig into him. He would keep her down for a very long time, only stopping a short while after he heard her make gagging noises. Worried that he was doing something bad, he would let go of her and let her do what she wanted to. **\"O-Oh god.. S-Sorry, I got carried away there.\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Now that she was able to move her head however she wanted, Alarah slowly raised her head and gave his tip a suck. **\"I don't mind you throat-fucking me, Lixiss. Just keep in mind that I can't stay too long with that thing in my throat.\"** Her hand stroked his erect cock lovingly. **\"You can be as rough as you want, but keep what I said in mind, alright? Okay, now be a good boy and fuck my throat right this time.\"**\n\nThis time, she started to give him a blowjob and then slowly went down to his base and back up. She repeated this a few times and then remained at his base for a few seconds and then repeated the former pattern." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Nodding to her words, the elf would moan slightly as he felt her stroke and suck at his tip slightly while explaining to him what he did wrong. He looked at her rather apologetically, clearly feeling quite guilty for what had happened. **\"Of course, of course, I'm sorry.. Only once I heard you gag did I realise that I was doing something wrong.. I'll do better next time.\"**\n\nHe continued to moan, throbbing quite a lot in her throat already, she could tell it wouldn't take long for him to cum. He was all too excited for this and he wouldn't last much longer, despite trying his hardest. For now, after letting her go back and forth on her own for a while before pushing her down all the way once more, groaning loudly and making sure to lift her up just in time so that the same thing wouldn't happen again." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "It seemed like Lixiss learned his lesson, because this time, he was much more gentle. His hands did push her toward his base rougher than how she did it, but Alarah had given him permission to do so. Yes, her eyes did tear up, but only because this pace was getting faster and faster. Not only that got wetter. Her pussy was now overflowing with her juices. Fuck- If this made her wet, how much would she enjoy getting fucked by him?\n\nAlarah's nails dug themselves deeper into his legs. At this point, she was used to the pace. With her eyes, she tried to tell him that he could now fuck her throat as rough as he could. If he overdid it, she would definitely find a way to stop him." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "And seeing the confidence in Alarah, Lixiss would decide to fuck her throat faster, bucking his hips slightly as he moved her head up and down gently. Moans kept on loudly flowing out of his mouth and into her ears, making him quite happy.\n\nHe was still getting close to cumming, and as he fucked her throat so roughly, he would begin to cum. Making his load shoot out at the back of her throat, he'd hold her down for a longer while again as he came, panting loudly, until ultimately letting her go after he was done. **\"M-Mhhh.. O-oh god, fuck yeah~ I feel absolutely amazing~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "The tears in her eyes stung a little, but she just went ahead and tried to swallow as much of Lixiss' cum as possible. Once Alarah was released from his tight grip, she took her hands and spit the remaining amount into them. He was supposed to see how much he came into her throat. **\"You see this~? My throat felt so good; you nearly choked me with this amount~.\"**\n\nBack in the room, she hadn't been able to properly drink his cum, but now she had the chance. Alarah drank it greedily, moaning once she was done with it. **\"Mmmmhh~ Tastes like my little Lixiss had a lot of fun~! Are you good to go or do you need motivation, sweetheart~?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "He blushed quite adorably as he saw all of the remaining cum in her hands, surprised at how much he managed to cum. **\"O-Oh god.. T-that's a lot, really...\"** \n\n**\"Y-Yeah.. I had a lot of fun..~\"** He watched in interest as she drank his cum, adorably blushing as if he didn't expect her to do this. It made him very happy, giggling quite a lot. **\"Umm.. Motivation? Why would I need motivation?~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"Lixiss, dearie, I meant if you need some time to recharge your friend downstairs or if you're ready to fuck the living hell out of my pussy~.\"** With her now clean hands, she took his dick back into her hands. He had some remaining cum on his member, and as much as she wanted his cum in her body, it was more wanted in her womb than in her vaginal canal. **\"But for now, be a good boy and stay still. Your mistress needs to clean your mess up~.\"**\n\nAlarah licked her lips and then went down to work. Her tongue skillfully wrapped around his cock, taking all of the residual mess she and him left behind from their throat-fuck session. Once she was done, she gave the tip a light kiss. **\"Ready to go~?\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "**\"O-Ohh.. N-no, I'm good. I am a bit tired but I can definitely go for one more round. Then I want to sleep in a nice bed for a long while!\"** He giggled a bit, looking towards her and whining as she grabbed his cock once more. He stood still completely as she started to clean him up with her tongue, making a rather large amount of noise as she licked around his sensitive cock. It was nice to see it get cleaned, not a drop of cum wasted. Moaning to the kiss, he nodded. **\"Yes... I'm absolutely ready! Though.. I've never had the chance to fuck someone before, I've only ever been the one getting fucked.. I'm not sure I'll be good at it.\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "While he talked, she took the liberty to sit back on his lap, her dress now on the car's floor. **\"Awww, baby. We sure need to work on your stamina. But that's a story for another day.\"** Alarah gave him a quick peck on his lips. **\"And Lixiss, you can use my things as a pillow for now. Lloyd won't arrive at my apartment for like an hour, so you better enjoy the ride while you can, my sweet elf~.\"**\n\nThe shifter lifted her hips lightly and took Lixiss' cock to put it at the entrance of her pussy. With her other hand, she parted her lower lips, letting some of her juices drip on his dick. She moaned at the cold air touching her entrance. **\"I have a teeny tiny task for you, my cute elf~ I want you to describe to me how I'm feeling while I ride you~. Remember the game from before? Me rewarding you if you last longer than me? Well, if you last longer than me, I'll let you fuck my pussy however you want~!\"**\n\nWithout waiting for his answer, Alarah sat down on his erect cock, taking in all of his length and girth. He filled her out so well that her mind basically forgot how to work. **\"Fuuuuuck~! Mmmmhhhh~.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Looking towards her as she got on his lap, he would blush slightly at her words, seeming embarrassed by the kiss and what she said about his stamina. **\"A-Alright, I-I'm sure I'll enjoy it very much..~\"**\n\nHe would gasp slightly, feeling her wet, dripping pussy against his dick. He moaned cutely as he felt it touch her entrance, a feeling he hasn't felt before. **\"O-Ohh.. O-Of course, I can do that! I'll describe it in all the detail. Sounds like a fun game..~\"**\n\nHe moaned out even before he finished his sentence, moaning out very loudly as he felt his length suddenly deeply enter her insides. It felt like heaven, so tight, so much overwhelming, amazing pleasure.. It was nothing like he has felt up to this point. **\"O-Ohh.. G-god! Y-Yes, fuck..~ It feels so amazing, mhh~ It's so fucking tight, It's squeezing me so much... H-honestly I'm not sure I'll be able to last so long when it feels as good as this...~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "A throaty laugh left her mouth as she rode him. **\"Mmmhhh~ I'll go ahead and take the compliment of my pussy being so tight you might come~!\"** She continued to ride him at her tempo, making it agonizingly slow for Lixiss. Occasionally, she would roll her hips to tease him, her target being him growing frustrated. Her whole body started to heat up and she could feel her uterus basically screaming for Lixiss' cum. \n\nAlarah licked her lips and bit her lower lip. Riding him felt incredibly good. **\"Shit~ Your cock feels so good in me~!\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "He would blush at her words, giggling a little and moaning as she continued to ride him, even though it was very slow and he was not in favour of that speed. The teasing only made it worse, he started to get frustrated as he also heated up, wanting only to cum inside her, though her pace didn't make it as easy as he thought. **\"M-Mhh... Y-your pussy feels a-amazing, A-Alarah.. C-could you please speed up..? I-I want to feel more, g-god.. T-this is too slow..\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"Haha~ Is- is it now? Mmmmhhh fuck~ Want me to increase the speed? Why don't you beg like the good boy you are~? Beg for it~!\"** Alarah leaned back and put her hands on Lixiss' knees to help her arch her back more. She was in control of this situation, not him, and she would make him feel it in all of his pores. Every part of his body was supposed to know that only she was allowed to give him pleasure. Only her and her body." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Nodding to her, he would watch her arch her back and realise he wasn't able to do much about this. She was the one who gave him pleasure and he couldn't really do anything about it... All he could do was beg. He looked up towards her and softly speak up. **\"M-Mhh... F-Fuck.. P-please miss, c-could you speed up the tempo? I-I'll be such a good boy for you and do everything you'd like, I-I just want to feel this amazing pussy even more.. M-mhh~\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "That was better. Alarah raised her hips and increased the pace by a little, still not riding him at full speed. He did ask, but she wanted him to beg, cry, and scream for it. Lixiss was supposed to crave nothing but to cum deep into her pussy. **\"My cute elf~ I'm sure you can do it better than just that~\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Looking up towards her, he would moan louder as she finally started to increase her pace, looking at her with a cute look and smiling. Still, it didn't satisfy him and he did indeed crave more than just this. He would look into her eyes asnd scream. **\"G-God, p-please, s-stop torturing me! Please let me cum inside your pussy! A-Ahh.. F-fuck.. M-mhh.. T-this is still so painfully slow... I-I want to cum inside you and fill your womb with my sticky load!\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "One of her hands touched his cheek and caressed it lightly. **\"Good boy~ Begging suits you so well~ Your mistress will now do as you asked her to, but no complaining afterward, ok~?\"** The shifter licked her lips and started to mercilessly fuck the shit out of his cock, moving her hips up and down as fast as she could while rolling her hips from time to time. Lixiss wanted to cum deep inside her, so she would let that happen." }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Lixiss blushed a bit as his cheek was carressed, nodding to her slightly and smiling as he looked straight into her eyes while begging her. Hearing her words, he would nod a bit and begin loudly moaning at the feeling of her beginning to fuck the shit out of him so mercilessly, he couldn't help but shiver and whine as she went up and down on him so quickly. And it wouldn't take more than a few seconds of her doing this until he would grab her hips gently and scream out. **\"A-Ahh..! F-Fuck, A-Alarah! G-God I love your pussy so much..~\"** He would begin cumming, shooting out ropes of his thick, sticky cum inside her, making at least as large of a mess as he did in her mouth just a little while ago." }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "As his warm cum spread into her pussy, she threw her head and moaned lightly. It felt good to feel his cum inside her, inside her precious womb, but it didn't feel enough. Far from it. Her body still craved its release and was far from it. She clenched her pussy around Lixiss' dick. **\"Mmmmm... Say, are you done already? Or are you up for one more round~?\"** Alarah's hands traveled down his body, stopping at the point they were joining. **\"I've had far from enough, you know~? I told you I'm insatiable when it comes to penetrative sex~!\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "Looking at her with a surprised and slightly concerned look, Lixiss would nod his head and close his eyes, letting out a soft sigh as he relaxed on the ground despite the feeling of tightness around his dick. **\"M-Mhhmm... A-As much as I'm loving this, I-I don't think I can last anymore.. I've come what, five or six times already..? I'm not entirely sure I'd even be able to release anything at this point if I wasn't tired... I've never came this much in a row.\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "Alarah pouted before sighing and then getting off of Lixiss. With her insides now not being stretched by the elf's cock, the cum he had pumped inside her was now slowly spilling out. At least he had given her a creampie. **\"Alright, I guess. We really do have to work on your endurance, though. I have a pretty high libido.\"**" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "He nodded a little bit, letting out a soft sigh and looking up at her with a tired expression. **\"Thank you for understanding, I'd like to get to training as soon as I'm able to. So that next time we have a day like this, I can last as long as you wish for.\"** He would get back up onto the seat and look towards her. **\"Now, I'd love to take a nap.\"**" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "She sighed and sat down so that Lixiss could use her thighs as a pillow as she had promised. **\"Come here. My thighs are yours to use.\"** Alarah patted one of her thighs and smiled. Her elf did go through a lot today, so him being exhausted is plausible and understandable. Maybe they could continue this another time, just like he had said. **\"I will tell Lloyd to go home faster. That way you can take a shower and start to get used to your new life.\"**" } ]

[ { "author": "frothless", "message": "*Birdie had just finished his shift. Some teasing, a lap dance, and for some extra he had a bit of cum on his ass from grinding on someone. Next to him sat Micheal. They had seen each other a few times but hadn't really talked that much. But hey they were here now right? Might as well have a conversation.* \"Hi Micheal. How's your night been going?\"" }, { "author": "Mikey", "message": "*Michael was pretty spent, laying there exhausted and drinking water in large gulps. Looking up towards Birdie, the fox would sigh and shake his head a little. Unlike birdie, Michael's furry but was stained with cum, but his cock was also leaking some cum from the large tip. It was clear that Mikey was doing the deed itself.* \"Ahh.. Hey, Birdie. I'm pretty fucking tired and we're only halfway through the night.\"" }, { "author": "frothless", "message": "\"Yeah busy night huh. Have fun out there? Noticed that you're leaking a bit extra over there.\" *Birdie started drinking from his water bottle as he listened to Micheal's response.*" }, { "author": "Mikey", "message": "\"Oh, don't tell me about it. It's been so tiring, so many people and most of them just want me to fuck them with my huge cock.\"" } ]

[ { "author": "Dabria Solstice", "message": "*Melodic tunes of peoples moans poured out through the open windows of the brothel out onto the streets for all to hear. Enticing the mare do wells on the streets to come inside in search for one thing, pleasure.*\n\n*Dimly lit signs decorated the outside of the building advertising the services that would be offered inside. However one that stood out from the rest would be one that should read \"Hell's second circle\", yet a few of the letters lights had gone out so what could be read was \"He 's se ond ir le\". Despite the loss of letters this was a well known place to those of the town, due to the many stories told of the activities that take place inside.*\n\n*Upon walking inside people would be greeted by the reception which had the thick scent of cheap perfume filling the air. Along with the sight of cheap decorations made up to look expensive such as curtains made of rayon, plastic candle sticks painted to look like they were made of gold and one singular chaise lounge which would be situation within a corner. While within the other corner to the reception would be a black wooden desk which had a match black chair situated behind it. Upon the black chair would be sat a young girl of around 20 with a sign in book placed in front of her on the desk, a feather pen being twirled within her index finger and thumb as she hummed a small tune awaiting people to enter.*\n\n*Passed the reception through a pair of black doors would be a staircase leading to the first floor of the brothel. This being where the bedrooms were. A long corridor with three doors on either side leading to rooms decorated with everything needed to ensure someones satisfaction during their nights stay here at the second circle of hell.*\n\n*At the bottom of this corridor would lie another staircase leading to a floor consisting of the workers bedrooms as well as the madams quarters.*\n\n*The madam herself would be sitting in her room, the only thing lighting it being a candle being held with one of the same fake gold candle holders mentioned within the reception. The room itself having very limited furniture apart from a desk, a chaise lounge chair, and a cheap plastic diamond chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The walls being painted black making the madam stand out within the room, her ivory skin and chalk white hair easily standing out among the darkness of the room.*\n\n*Her name being one many people knew of, Dabria.*\n\n*Soon enough she began to move, lifting herself from where she was once sat now standing. Her figure would be slender yet curvy, a black dress covering her body yet easily making her figure stand out to those who looked at her. Her movements would be graceful as lower limbs carried her to the door of her room. Digits wrapping around the knob to her door proceeding to slowly turn it before exiting. Making her way into the workers bedrooms, checking on each and everyone of her workers. Making sure they were hydrated and well fed. As she knew how hard of a job this was, so the least she could do was make sure her girls were well looked after.*\n\n*Once finishing her check up on her girls, she made her way to the reception talking with the young girl situated at the front desk making small talk with her. The two of them complained of how slow it was for a Wednesday night. Dabria seating herself on the edge of the desk that the girl was working at. Her amber hues ,shielded by a pair of sunglasses, fixated onto the front door... As if awaiting somebodies arrival.*" }, { "author": "gaydilflover", "message": "Totally didn't get distracted halfway through writing this, sorry mikey..." }, { "author": "negativnabomba", "message": "Okay.. I got the courage, it's coming!" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "*Walking into the reception, he would awe in surprise at the sight of the somewhat luxurious-seeming reception. He didn't notice any of the decorations weren't real and were made out of plastic, he believed they were real and that the place was rich. Noticing the somewhat frightening, though rather beautiful woman that sat on the desk, he would come over to her and softly speak with her.*\n\n\"You're Dabria Solstice.. Right? I'm Lixiss Miakrana, the boy who applied for a job here.*\n\n*He would extend his hand out to shake hers, smiling at her adorably and enthusiastically. He was wearing high, brown boots that extended high up his legs, along with a white blouse. This showed off his curves rather well. He also had a cute blue bow tie in his hair, making for a rather girly and adorable hairstyle for a boy.*" }, { "author": "Dabria Solstice", "message": "*Her eyebrows seemed to raise as the boy enter the reception. Her gaze travelling across his body, analysing his features from head to toe. A small smirk appeared onto her face simply enjoying the sight of him. One of her thighs crossing over the other before she looked behind her shoulder at the girl behind the desk. Tapping her finger twice onto the desk, signifying for the girl to leave which she did without any hesitation. Heading through the main doors and up the stairs leaving both Lixiss and Dabria alone.*\n\n*Once he started speaking the smirk she once had faded away. Her gaze moving to the hand he extended out towards her, a sharp glare being shot towards it. She took a moment before speaking in response to him, her voice cold.*\n\n\"Mistress Solstice to you, boy.\" *She extended her hand out taking a firm grip of his chin. Forcing his gaze to meet with hers as she took a good look at him. Examining his facial features more closely before releasing his chin.*\n\"Your application says you're a male.. We have a severe lack of them here, yet you look so...\" *She stopped for a moment waving her hand in the air, thinking of the word before speaking once more.* \"Feminine... I'm sure there's some sick bastards out there willing to pay for you.\"\n\n*A soft sigh escaped her sliding off of the desk she was sat on, walking behind it. Pulling out a sheet of paper from one of the drawers, a consent form. One of which entailed the work that Lixiss would be doing, such as satisfying customers as well as housekeeping. Making sure the workers quarters were always tidy. She then proceeded to slide the piece of paper over to Lixiss on the other side of the desk, along with a pen which she grabbed from a little pot onto the desk. Finally her body collapsed into the seat behind the desk, her gaze never leaving Lixiss.*\n\n\"Read over that carefully and sign it, afterwards i'll show you to where you will be staying for the time being, as well as which room you will be working in... That and you can possibly show me what you're made of, hm?~\"\n*Her smirk soon returned, a playful tone being added to her voice as she spoke.*" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "\"Oh, umm... Sorry, Mistress Solstice.\" *Listening to her words analysing his body and how she could make use of him, he couldn't help himself but blush quite adorably, nodding to her slowly and smiling at her.* \"I sure hope so. If there weren't any people wanting to pay for me, I'd be very much out of a job.\" \n\n*Sighing a bit and watching her take out the consent form, he would read over it quite quickly, not seeming to think about it too much. He was likely determined to obtain this jobb and wanted her to know how serious he was about it. He would then grab the pen and sign it.*\n\n*Nodding to her shyly in reaction, he would blush quite a bit and shyly nod at her, thinking about what she said.* \"O-Oh... I-I mean, if you need to examine me to know I'm a good fit for the job, then of course you can do that..\"" }, { "author": "Dabria Solstice", "message": "*Once he had signed it, she quickly reached over the desk grabbing it. She then proceeded to stand from the chair she was sat in, reading over the contract giving a small nod once she had finished.*\n\n\"Wonderful~... Now follow me.\"\n\n*She then led Lixiss through the two doors which opened up to a staircase, which she walked up. Coming to the first floor. Which as described prior was a long corridor with three doors on either side. Walking with pride she approached the second door on the left. Opening it.*\n\n*The room itself had a dark pink and black colour pallet, a large seemingly extravagant bed placed within the middle. While hooks lined the walls holding various different whips, paddles, and other assorted items which could be used if wanted by a customer. Taking a closer looks at the bed it would have various straps on it, two handcuffs at the top, and two ankle cuffs at the bottom.*\n\n*A soft sigh escaped Dabria as she walked to the bed taking a seat onto it, her piercing amber eyes having a dim glow behind her sunglasses in the dim light of the room. Her gaze fixated onto Lixiss, her hand stretching to the bed beside her patting it gently.*\n\n\"Come, sit. Close the door behind you...\"" }, { "author": "Lixiss Miakrana", "message": "*Nodding to her command to follow after her, he would start to follow her and walk with her up the staircase and then into the room after she opened the door.*\n\n*Seeing the wondefully equipped and fitted room, he couldn't help but blush. If this was where he would be working, it would definitely be an amazing job. The bed even had cuffs... Blushing quite a lot, he would giggle a bit and nod, closing the door behind him as he walked towards her.*\n\n*Seeing her pat the spot on the bed next to her, he would sit right there next to her, crossing his legs slowly and leaning against her after she called him. Looking up towards her, he would softly speak.*\n\"So.. That's the plan, mistress?\"" }, { "author": "Dabria Solstice", "message": "\"The plan?...\"\n\n*Her hand reached up, gently patting his head. Her fingers then weaving through his hair giving it a gentle tug pulling him a little away from her while forcing his eyes to meet her own. She then used her other hand to remove the sunglasses she was wearing placing them onto a bed side table only a few inches away from her. A grin soon pulling at the corners of her mouth, a devious, playful, yet frightening grin. After a moment of silence she spoke once more, her tone cold.*\n\n\"You're going to show me just how well you can please someone, i'm sure that a pretty pet like yourself has some experience... Yet, of course I won't know until I see for myself now, hm?\"\n\n*Her grip on his hair loosened, her hand moving to caress his cheek before planting a soft kiss onto his forehead. Her actions being very scattered moving from being rough to being kind and soft. While Dabria was quite the scary individual, she did care deeply for all those that entered her doors in search of a job. Almost pitying them. Her gaze softened slightly her hues having a soft glow to them, as if waiting for his reaction. As of course, the reactions of others is what she thrived off of.*" } ]

[ { "author": "Eris", "message": "The club was full and buzzing, exactly how Eris liked and wanted it to be. It was a usual night for her business. Guests at the bar ordered their drinks; some sat at the tables, enjoying the exotic dancers, while others were dancing or making out with someone. Truly an exciting atmosphere. Exactly what she needed for deals. Soon, a soul would come to her for a deal, and for that, she had made sure that everything was going well... \n\nThat was at least until she smelled a certain scent. The djinn quickly hid her flared nostrils, not noticing her eyes turning a bloody red. \n\nHer club staff had one rule. One! If they had the ability to go into heat or rut, they had to stay home so that none of the rest staff or guests would be affected by it. Someone apparently didn't listen. Eris left her office and headed to the locker rooms. It seemed like a disciplinary meeting was needed." }, { "author": "Mikey", "message": "As Eris arrived in the locker room, she could see Mikey there, changing into his work outfit, a really skimpy white bikini. He seemed rather excited and not realising his boss was coming in. He just kept changing, whistling softly, but the scent was emanating and it was almost visible on his body as well, his eyes also a bit red and clearly excited. \n\nNoticing his boss after a few seconds of her walking towards him, he couldn't help but smile. **\"What's good, Eris?~ super excited for today's shift, can't wait to see who I get to fuck today~ gosh I'm so horny~\"**" }, { "author": "Eris", "message": "So he was the reason her club was full of pheromones. Her nostrils flared up, and her eyes started to emit smoke. Normally, she would be more careful about unleashing her djinn powers, yet this situation enraged her beyond any measure. Eris created a smoke hand and closed Mikey's locker. **\"Mikey, say, what is your plan for tonight? Do you have any special guests tonight? You know what? Fuck those. You will spend the rest of the evening in my office.\"** The djinn turned around and headed to the door. **\"We need to have a chat.\"**\n\nThe sound of her heels was drowned by the loud music coming from the dancefloor. Her assistant, a succubus named Inez, informed her that all of her meetings were postponed due to personal reasons from the other party. Good. This meant she had the time to properly instruct him. Mikey entered her office, and she closed the door with her magic. He wouldn't be able to leave without her permission.\n\n**\"Say, Mikey, have you ever read this club's policy? I'm sure you have, considering you've been working here long enough to be considered a valuable worker.\"**" }, { "author": "Mikey", "message": "**\"C'mon, man? What have I done? I'm going to make you a lot of money tonight, you can't just take me out of it like that!\"** \n\nClearly angered and annoyed by the fact that she stopped him from performing that evening, he would walk with her to her office. It wasn't like he had any other option, but by the time he arrived to the office, he was furious. Stomping as he walked over and sat down in there, he would shout at her.\n\n**\"Yes I've read it, and? I'm not going to break any of your stupid rules. It's a bunch of nonsense anyway, useless shit you can use to boss people around.\"** He would stand up and look at her. **\"Now let me get on stage and make both of us a couple thousand~\"**" }, { "author": "Eris", "message": "He dared to raise his voice in her club at her? Oh, now he was done for. Eris' smoke started to manifest itself around her, forcing Mikey to sit back down. **\"Now, listen here, you little brat. Those rules aren't stupid. They are for your and my other employee's safety, which you are putting at risk right now.\"** She got closer and forced him to look at her. **\"Did you know that you went into a rut?\"**\n\nEris was dangerously close to transforming into her djinn form. So much so that even her horns were now slowly manifesting on her head. **\"Money I can make with other measures. I don't need a person who can't control their urges to possibly endanger my business. I've been part of this world long enough to know that what you are doing is dumb and harming you.\"**" }, { "author": "negativnabomba", "message": "**\"Yes they are! They're limiting us too much, we could make so much more money without them..\"** He was angry, almost starting to growl at her as if not bothered by the fact she was nearing transforming into her other form. \n\n**\"I didn't go into any rut, you're lying. I'm just really, uncontrollably fucking horny~ god, won't you please let me out to fuck someone?~\"** He was still quite confident, looking up at her with a teasing smile as he listened to her. **\"C'mon, you can't be serious~ what would happen if someone was in a rut, anyway?~ I'm definitely not, but I'm sure it would be fine~ do you know how much people would pay for that?~ God, I wish I was in a rut just to prove it to you! Now please let me go?~\"**" }, { "author": "Eris", "message": "So he chose the brat route, eh? Well, good that she liked to assert dominance. Eris was several decades older, if not centuries, than Mikey and had enough experience to know what she was talking about. **\"For such a young man, you surely haven't had many ruts yet, have you? Well, let me tell you a few things about heat cycles while you're here. See it... As a disciplinary meeting.\"**\n\nHer eyes started to glow even more, making the smoke solidify slightly, which made Mikey's restraints harsher. **\"Number one. Ruts' main purpose is to ensure the survival of your kind. It's the instinct to breed until you are assured you'll have offspring.\"** Eris' heels clacked loudly in her office, going against the music from outside. **\"Your mind becomes completely dazed, not registering if your partner is actually still able to proceed, and as a club owner, I can't have that.\"**\n\n**\"Number two. When your kind goes into their heat cycles, they emit strong pheromones. Humans don't register it as much since they also act on pheromones, but not as strongly as beasts do. Magical beings like myself, who don't have pheromones, notice it immensely the moment we enter a room.\"** She pursed her lips slightly, disgusted by the smell she had caught of from before. **\"Meaning you can't fucking lie to me, you little whiny bitch.\"**" }, { "author": "Mikey", "message": "Hearing her words, he seemed quite afraid of her, mostly because of her immense knowledge, but he didn't seem convinced. Looking up at her, he got angry and stood up, his dick starting to harden a bit. **\"Well if I need to ensure the survival of my own kind, like you said, then you'd better bend over and let me fuck you into oblivion. So I can prove to you that you're speaking complete nonsense.\"** He just couldn't help himself, leaning over to her while standing up and gently sliding his hand across her hip. **\"It'll be fun, I promise. I've made many women scream my name before, would be nice of you to join the list, Eris~\"** Oh, he didn't realise the trouble he was in. He was just too horny and too in over his head, thinking he was on top of the world. Well, maybe someone could help him with that attitude." }, { "author": "Eris", "message": "The disgust in her face became more evident the more he spoke. And then his hand found its way to her hip. That pathetic beast dared to touch her, a several centuries-old djinn who was known for being merciless in her punishments? Mikey surely would regret touching her without her consent. Without warning, Eris let out her djinn aura, quivering everything in the room. **\"You dare touch me, your owner, without my explicit consent?\"**\n\nThe smoke around them got stronger while Eris grew claws and horns. He wanted to play? Sure, but only under her conditions. One of her hands grabbed Mikey's balls and began to squeeze them. **\"You sure have an attitude for someone as young as you. And believe me. You will never reach the number of people who screamed my name ecstatically.\"**" }, { "author": "Mikey", "message": "He would finally quite literally freak out at the sight of Eris growing stronger, the smoke changing how the room around them felt, and he would almost begin screaming as he watched the claws and horns grew on Eris. He couldn't believe this was happening, and he would whine out quite loudly as she started to squeeze on his cute little balls. **\"A-Ahhh.. O-okay, f-fine, f-fine! I-I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry! I'll behave myself, I'll go home right now..\"** He was worried it was late to apologise, but he hoped she could let him be if he did." }, { "author": "Eris", "message": "**\"Oh no, we're not done yet. You do not get to approach me in such a manner and then decide to leave. You have to learn that actions have consequences, dearie.\"** With her free hand, Eris manifested a leash made out of smoke in her hand and a collar around Mikey's neck. **\"You want to fuck me? Sure, but only under my conditions. Kneel the fuck down, you dumb fox.\"** The djinn used her magic to increase the pressure in the room, making him kneel in front of her feet.\n\n**\"You know where I come from, young people had to show devotion their elder. I had to kiss their hands back when I was younger.\"** She lightly pulled on his leash. **\"But I own you, fox, which means you'll have to prove to me your respect differently. Kiss my shoe. Maybe then I'll be willing to be more lenient with you, you respectless idiot.\"**" }, { "author": "Mikey", "message": "**\"A-Ahh, n-no, but please.. I-I didn't mean it, I didn't mean to disrespect you, miss, I-It's not my fault, I... Ahhh...\"** He continued to freak out as he suddenly felt the tightly collar around his neck, was that there the whole time? The pressure in the room was making him feel a terrible headache and he would almost instantly drop down onto his knees in front of her, kneeling down by the pressure brought down upon him.\n\n**\"K-Kiss your shoes..? W-What the.. I-I mean, y-yes ma'am, a-anything for you, just p-please be nice to me... I-I'm sorry..\"** After realising what would happen if he resisted, after he begged her he would begin to immediately kiss over her shoes, making sure not to kiss the dirty sole and keep it to the upper part of the shoe." }, { "author": "Eris", "message": "Eris licked her lips as Mikey kissed her shoe. Now, this attitude was better than the one from before. But ma'am? Sure, she was several centuries old, but it didn't mean she liked to be reminded of this fact. With a tug on his leash, she made the fox look at her. **\"Ma'am? What am I? Your grandmother? No, you are allowed to address me as Mistress Eris or Your Majesty. I am the only person you are allowed to worship; you hear me? Outside of my grasp, you may be having control of others. Inside here, you are nothing but my bitch.\"**\n\nThe pressure in the room got lighter, and Eris let the leash disappear for now, leaving the collar on Mikey's neck. She walked toward the seating area and sat down on the sofa. **\"Now, what to do with you? How about this? You still have your hard-on. Why not show me how you would have seduced the others? If I am bored, however, you will receive a punishment.\"**" } ]

[ { "author": "negativnabomba", "message": "Tell me if you'd like a different name ofc" }, { "author": "patientiapestilentia", "message": "The bar is fantastic. Thank you~\n\n`The bar itself is a large wooden structure that was set in the opposite side of the large stage and dance floor, kept behind thick single pane glass that kept the noise of the dancefloor a soft, steady hum. Behind the smooth, ornately engraved oaken bar, were shelves stacked nearly to the top of the vaulted ceiling. Each shelf was stacked with bottles atop bottles of various sizes and exotic shapes, most would have labels applied by a manufacturer while others would have labels that looked to be hand written by an enthusiastic artisan of drink. The floor recessed a good half foot to give the tender plenty of space to store the more sought after drinks below and cut down on the use of the sliding metal ladder that hung around at either end it had been left at.\n\n\n Everytime the glass doors opened, music blasted into the near dead silent hideaway bar and alerted the bartender on duty to jump to task. It was lit nicely with yellow tinted bulbs to give the area a slightly different feel than that of the nightclub. That was quite on purpose from the owners of the establishment. They felt that a shift in environment would allow for a variety of clientele. Those that wanted to dance or watch the show could quickly get in, get service and then back out to the floor for further wanton enjoyment. While others could use the area with tables set for people to sit and enjoy one another's company over a few, for a more intimate setting, one could sit at the large bar itself on the leather cushioned stools and imbibe themselves in the many well crafted drinks and conversation of the bartender on shift.`" }, { "author": "Yesui Sahgahl", "message": "*Looking on at the lightshow infront of him, Yesui smiled to himself as he polished glass after glass. Setting each one down onto the bar and picking up the next to clean and inspect. His tail worked in tandem with his hands, slinking around the base of the glass to gently pick it up and stash it under. He worked diligently, each glass only in his hand for the exact amount of time required to look at the bottom, rim and inside. Then a quick wipe with a rag and it was set down to be taken up by the deftly moving appendage for storage, a side step, then process was repeated till there were no more glasses left. \n\nUpon finishing his opening task. The AuRa would pull a clipboard from a hook behind the bar, crouching down he would tap the tops of bottles with a finger, his mouth moving with silent counting, every now and again he would sit up and scribble a few notes then back down to take further stock. Once the lower stock had been updated he would vault up the long ladder on one of the further ends three rungs at a time, Inspect a section and write down the numbers he had counted on the clipboard that was held steady by his tail. He continued this, sliding down the ladder section at a time till he reached the floor then pushed himself along a bit before headding back up to the top to continue his extensive inventory.\n\nOnce finished completely the large male checked the pocket stopwatch, stopping it with a click of his thumb and clicked his tongue in a dispassionate manner. Hanging up the clip board he sighed softly and grabbed the damp rag, snapping it at his side with a loud crack.*\n\n\"An hour. Closing should take forty-five minutes then. I'm sure I can shave off the time if I moved a little faster on the sweeping and the till.\" \n\n*The horned man rubbed at the scales that adorned his chin and stared back out at the slowly moving stage lights. They blinked a few times, and the dull hum of the music began alerting Yesui that the crowds were begining to be let\n\nIn.* \n\n\"Exactly why I need to hone this time down... More time for thought that way.\"\n\n*The large Au'Ra had taken residence behind the bar, his fingers drumming rythmicly to the dull Thrum of the NightClub's music of choice. There was a steady stream of patrons through through the large glass doors, each were tended to by Yesui. His manners were always on point, nodding at the patrons drinks of choice and setting to the task once he had a hand full of items to prepare. Most of the time the drinks he made were easier, just a few of the choice liqours under the bar and a simple mixxer thrown in to break up the tang of alcohol. Everyone that came through was served in a timely manner and set upon their way back to the dancefloor. Some sat at the various tables waiting for their drinks, Yesui would see to it that he delivered their drinks directly to them. By doing so, Yesui had ensured the Club had an air of class that most didn't expect out of this establisment." }, { "author": "Sora", "message": "*Sora walks in the bar where he would find a seat. Now sitting down he finds himself on his phone not paying any mind to anyone at the moment*" }, { "author": "Yesui Sahgahl", "message": "*The tall Au Ra stepped out from behind the swinging door of the storage room behind the bar and stepped into the well behind the bar. His tail and hands worked in tandem to clear away empties from the bar. Tossing bottles into the garbage and lightly setting mugs and glasses into the soapy water behind the large wooden drinking surface. Yesui worked quickly, his face kept straight laced and looking for the next task. The horned male took wide steps, flying between customers with a certain grace that only the most diligent service providers could attain. \n\nWhen face to face with a customer, his tight lipped expression would break, flashing a bright smile and soft eyes, the amber hues glowing just a hair brighter than the dim lighting of the bar. Most orders only required him to stay on the ground, as Yesui has had plenty of time at the helm and knows what liquors are the current popular drinks. When an order comes to him that requires a more exotic concoction, he generally leaps at the opportunity, gripping the ladder and sailing up the rungs. His long legs skipped over multiple steps, pushing the ladder along the rails to the exact spot necessary before gliding back down to the bar. If someone watched him long enough. They would certainly get the feeling that Yesui loved his job.*" }, { "author": "Pixie~", "message": "*Pushing passed the heavy glass doors with a bit of sneaky help from her wind magic, Pixie steps into the Bar. The use of said magic made all the frills of her dress flutter as she worked her way past the various patrons of the bar. Pixie has always had a penchant for entrances and wasn't planning on stopping now. Sauntering up to the bar she hopped into the air, her little wings fluttering as she stradled one of the many open stools in front of the bar. Tiny hands held onto the edge of the bar as she kicked her legs back and and forth, her feet not even close to reaching the floor below.*\n\n\"SERVICE SERVICE SERVICE!!!! YESUI I REQUIRE SEEEEEERVICE!!!\"\n\n*She gleefully squeeled, A giggle followed the demand as she rocked back and forth on the stool. She knew she was being particularly annoying to the bartender on duty. In fact they go way back, so in her head she was absolutely in the right to do so. Besides, the rush of customers had slowed to an almost crawl at this point and there really wasn't anyone around. She figured she wouldn't be scolded too roughly for it. As the large Auri male looked her way she would flash a large cheesy smile, outright ignoring the intense dagger like stare coming from them.*" }, { "author": "Yesui Sahgahl", "message": "*Yesui had worked hard today, the current shift was going smoothly and the patrons had their fill. He was feeling pretty great about his ethic today, nobody complained, there were no mistakes and the patrons had been tipping well this evening. He sent the supporting staff home for the evening figuring he could step into the back for a moment for a quick smoke before he felt an otherworldy breeze. The chill that ran down his spine was enough for him to recognize the light clacking of gaudy platform heels. Pixie... Of all the bars to pick... He turned just in time to see the little Alp vault onto a stool and immediately began squaking about service. Glaring at the lady he sighed, rolled up his sleeves and pulled a small metal box from his breast pocket of his vest, flicking his wrist to expose the butt of a cigarette. \n\nHe stepped towards her slowly, reluctant to serve the little imp. Lighting his cigarette he took a long deep drag and put away the device back into its place before exhaling a plume of smoke right into their face. With a touch of impatience the large male grumbled a response.*\n\n\"So you followed me here, huh Pixie? There's no need for the snotty behavior either. What're you drinkin' tonight?\"" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "**\"I already told you, Mena. I do not want to collaborate again with that producer. He messed with my arrangements on purpose, and I have evidence- No, I don't care that he is the son of some tycoon. So? I am the daughter of Alazar and Jasmine Coreé. You know what? Tell him to either fuck off or get in contact with my lawyer. Either way, I do not want him near my studio. That's it. Bye!\"** \n\nAlarah hung up and sighed loudly. Back when she had started her singer career, she knew that there would be a possibility of some rich boy wanting to screw her when she didn't want to. Both of her older brothers had told her from the beginning to stay away from that man, but here she was now. Probably suing him over purposely messing with her tracks to make her sleep with him. \n\nAs she made her way through the people standing, the singer arrived at the bar and sat down on one of the chairs. **\"Hey, 'keep. What's the drink of today?\"**" }, { "author": "Pixie~", "message": "*Gasping she cluched at her chest, feigning offence and snickered at his frustration. She adored seeing that glare and the way the corner of his mouth twitched at the mere sight of her. She planted her elbows onto the bar and propped her head up in her hands, gazing up at him with her large ruby-like eyes. Blinking innocently while she spoke in a sing-song sort of tone.*\n\n\"Awwe~ I'm glad I left such a lasting impresson on you Yesi-baby~ You've got such a lovely angry face~\"\n\n*She straightened up and looked up at the large wall of liquor, tapping at her chin as she ran through the list of drinks she'd been bought before. She hummed and started rocking back and forth as she poured through her options. She was taking a purposely long time as the look of agitation on Yesui's face filled her with such a warm and fuzzy feeling.*" }, { "author": "Yesui Sahgahl", "message": "*He puffed away on his cigarette, watching the Alp's eyes glance from the bottles on the wall to his face, back and forth as if to taunt his current position. Had they been adventuring together like they'd used to do... He'd have given her a solid smack to the back of the head. But that wasn't their role currently, his profession was to serve and he made damn sure he lived up to the role he was given.\n\nThe club noise from outside the glass wall is what drew his attention away from the devil infront of him, the sight of the woman brought a sudden relief over him. Yesui uncrossed his arms and pulled the smoke from between his lips, exhaling the last drag as he snuffed it in the ashtray under the bar. He looked back to Pixie for a moment, fixing the collar of his shirt as he dissmissed her attempts to get him upset.*\n\n\"You think about that Pixie... I've got better customers to attend to.\" \n\n*He moved over to the new patron quickly, Instantly his demeanor shift from annoyed to a calm servicable smile. His hands folded over one another and held at the center of his chest as he processed her request. It didn't take him much thought, responding in a level tone after clearing his throat a little.*\n\n\"Because summer is close by, I figure a good martini would be one of the better options. The grasshopper is particularly great option for the light mint finish.\"" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "A Martini or Grasshopper... As lovely as that sounded, she needed something stronger than that. **\"Anything you could recommend that's a tad stronger than just a martini?\"** She grabbed the tie that held her twists up and took it off, letting her hair fall over her shoulder. This whole day had been chaos, and the phone call with Mena from her marketing team completely ruined it.\n\nThis freaking producer was trouble. He had a reputation for scaring off female clients, but the way Alarah was, she just went with him since gossip wasn't always necessarily true. How wrong she had been for thinking that. That prick had harassed her several times, messed with her tracks when he felt like it, and occupied **Her** Studio to impress some date. \n\nAnd to top this bullshit off, that motherfucker now dared to mess with her arrangements without telling her and embarrassed her in front of her label. Today had been an important session for her, because it would have determined her next album release. Now, she had to wait for one more session to get the approval. If it hadn't been for her brother Jordan and his reasonable behavior, she would have shifted into a complete wolf and- Nope. Just thinking about it made her blood boil. Alarah grabbed into her purse and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She was about to light one when she remembered that she didn't know about the smoking policy of this place.\n\n**\"Oh, I forgot to look when I entered, but can I smoke inside here?\"**" }, { "author": "Yesui Sahgahl", "message": "\"Customers in here are allowed to do anything to their heart's content. By all means Miss do as thou pleases.\"\n\n*His umbral eyes panned over her posture and general body language. The amber hues glimmered for a flash of a moment as he pieced together a better order to suit her needs.*\n\n\"Something stronger? Then allow this bartender a bit of leeway to craft you a drink that will melt away the stress of the day, guaranteed.\"\n\n*He turned swiftly to the ladder and soared up to nearly the top of the shelves, his hands gripping two bottles as his tail curled around another. Holding firm he pushed the rolling ladder with a kick of his foot and rode it to the other end of the bar where he snatched up another bottle. Letting go of the ladder he sailed down at a heart stopping rate, slowing is decent at the last possible moment. Gingerly he stepped back into the well of the bar and placed the four bottles of unlabeled liquor onto the bar.\n\nPositioned in front of her he began setting up the various tools of his trade. His tail assisted by grabbing the mixer under the bar and setting it topside, while his hands grabbed a large cube of ice and wrapped it in a silken cloth.*\n\n\"This drink in particular is a favorite of the high class Auri women. The wife of one of the greatest Gladiators the Arena of my home had seen, made it quite popular. Hence the name, The Gladiator's Bride.\"\n\n*Holding the ice in one hand, he struck the silken wrapped block with his fist and let the now roughly crushed ice fall out of the cloth into the shaker and immediately set to work measuring out the unmarked liquors. Smacking the cap onto the shaker he gave the contents a few shakes before popping the top and setting the strainer atop the vessel. His tail sat a martini glass in front of them and he poured. The drink itself was blacker than night, seeming to drain the surrounding light around the glass. Before offering it to the woman, he reached under the bar and pulled out a lime wedge. Peel\n\nIng the rind off gently he tossed the fruit into his mouth and held the rind over the mouth of the glass and twisted the wedge sharply. The resulting citrus mist caused a reaction in the liquor, changing the contents. The black seemed to scatter away from the top of the glass, melting into a clear drink with a golden hue to it.*\n\n\"Do enjoy slowly, Miss. AuRa drinks are known to be quite the handful for those that don't have the constitution for the drink.\"" }, { "author": "Pixie~", "message": "*Pixie had done more than enough, teased that man more than enough. Slinking around to the back of the bar her spaded tail would lash out and snatch up a handle of coconut rum. She giggled and held the bottle close to her chest as she floated towards the back of the bar, pushing the back door open as quiet as she could before running out of the Club into the damp night air of the alleyway behind, jumping into the air and taking flight.*" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "So she could smoke here? Neat. Alarah took her lighter and lit her cigarette, inhaling her first hit deeply. She didn't really listen to what the bartender had said about the stronger drinks. Just that Au'Ra women liked to drink it and that it was insanely strong. Perfect. She took one more hit before downing the drink in one go. Once she was done, she put the glass back on the counter. \n\nThe cocktail tasted fresh. Was there a hint of lime in it? Huh. Not bad. Alarah licked her full lips clean. \n\n**\"One more of this. Don't worry about it being too strong. I can handle a lot.\"** Thanks to her shifter genes, but she wouldn't just tell a stranger about her ancestry. She took the cigarette back to her mouth and continued to inhale the substance. Her manager would certainly throw a shoe at her, screaming at her if she wanted to end her career as a singer by doing something as stupid as smoking. Good that her manager wasn't here.\n\nAlarah was aware of the fact that smoking could harm her vocal cords. Yet today, she wanted to forget about anything singer related. Without noticing it, she reached the end of her cigarette. **\"Fuck!\"** She quickly put it out, massaging her fingers. This day felt stupid, and now she burnt her fingers? Perfect. Just fucking perfect." }, { "author": "Yesui Sahgahl", "message": "*Yesui watched with a newly piqued interest in the woman before him. The drink he had made for her was undoubtedly one of the easiest drinks to take down because of the nature of the liquors involved. A small smile picked at the corners of his mouth as he obliged her orders and set to work. His movements were mechanical, the exact same motions as the last. One could record him making this specific drink, overlay the footage and find little to no difference in the way he performed his craft. \n\nAgain, the bartender tossed the lime into his maw, chewing gently as he twisted the rind into the glass and performed the color changing trick. Sliding the glass towards her once again, just before she had burned herself. Silently he reached under the bar and pulled out a glass bottle filled with a white substance, pouring it into a shot glass he scoot the glass towards her.*\n\n\"This is buttermilk, Miss. Dip your fingers in there for a few minutes. It'll help with the burn.\"\n\n*His attention remained directly on her, though, this did not stop him from recognizing that most if not all of the other patrons were leaving. Thankfully the little runt he had been dealing with earlier had decided to bolt as well.*" }, { "author": "Alarah Coree", "message": "As the man before her put both of the glasses in front of her, Alarah eyed the one glass with buttermilk in it. That was... Peculiar. With a raised eyebrow, she looked at it unbelievingly. **\"Buttermilk. Helping me with my burn. That... Uh, feels like a waste for some reason. I'm sure a cold towel would help just as good.\"** With her healthy hand, she pushed the glass toward the barkeeper.\n\nOnce the glass was further away from her, Alarah took the cocktail and, this time sipped on it. \n\nThis time, she could taste the lime and the sweet liquors inside of the drink. An approving hum left her throat. If she didn't know it any better, this drink would surely get to be one of her new obsessions. \n\nA few seconds of silence on her part went by before she decided to ask him a few questions. **\"Is this place new? I'm in this area fairly often, but I've never noticed it before. Oh, and not to sound rude, but what are Au'Ras?\"** Those were more questions she had wanted to ask, but oh well. Seemed like the alcohol did get to her a little." }, { "author": "Yesui Sahgahl", "message": "He wasn't away from them, only turning his attention back to behind the bar. He was oddly impressed with how the woman before him had knocked back the first and rather pleased to see that the second was meant for her enjoyment. He wouldn't make it obvious, but he was also put into a bit of a worry. The drink he'd made had been no joke, He'd have memories of a time before his tending days. Shifting and moving around as he straightened up the area, from the corner of his eye he would drink in her appearance in short passes as he worked. The umbral golden rings in his eyes glimmering all the while. \n\nIn the silence he appreciated the contrast of the bright gold accents she wore to her mocha hued skin. In another look he watched the gentle way she sipped at the drink, catching himself as he trailed down the slender of her neck to the fullness of her chest. He turned a bit, chiding himself under his breath for having such a lack of control while on the job but noted the small hum as credit to his skill. When she spoke up, he felt himself relax and put his attention back onto her own eyes as she spoke, answering her after a little bit of mulling over the question.\n\n\"This bar is actually relatively new. The club owner got enough guff from some of the higher elites that live in the city and want a bit of a more relaxed atmosphere with a way to get back to the party whenever they wanted. So. A section of the nightclub has been soundproofed and turned into this.\" *Gesturing to a large wall of exotic looking bottles behind him.* \"My favorite bit is the glass dividing wall behind yourself.\" \n\nHe motioned with a small wave of his hand over to the wall behind them, the lights from the stage and nearly packed dance floor was always a joy to watch when no patrons were coming in. He enjoyed watching the imbibed mingle together, cawing with their drunken laughter, fucking in the dark corners like little beasts or the fights that break out for whatever hundereds of\n\nReasons he'd been told. \n\n\"There is no offense to be taken. Au'Ra are a very proud people, but never shy from sharing their culture or origins. Though, as funny as it would be to try and propagate the popular rumor of us being decent from dragons, it's just not so.\" *Yesui chuckled softly, covering the light smile that crept onto his face before.* \"I do find myself homesick though, ever since being spirited away from my homeworld and wandering as I have... This city is a far cry from the desert plains I grew up in.\"" } ]

[ { "author": "behemoth4306", "message": "Location: Aphrodite's Living Quarters\nWho: Ares, Aphrodite\n⠀\nA dark shadow hovers over the triumph of a victory that compels Ares to seek solace in the presence of Aphrodite." }, { "author": "Ares", "message": "⠀\nLegend whispers that prayers to the War God were most potent at the zenith of battle, when the odds tilted beyond conception and the burden of onslaught rained without relent. Legend whispers that It was in these dire straits, as soldiers marched defiantly against fate with invocations of their god on their breath, that Ares would answer their prayers with swiftest vigor. The Thracian legions, sparse in number within the rugged terrains of northeast Anatolia, fought with the fury of a far greater host. Their ambition was vast as they aimed to dominate all of Asian Minor, placing their undying faith in their deity to overcome the formidable land and its vast armies despite the overwhelming odds they faced. \n⠀\nYet, this was hardly a battle; but a brutal decimation. Thracian warriors poured into the chaotic ruins in waves, their souls sent to the haven of Hades before they could even finish their prayers. Arrayed against them was a diverse coalition of Turks, Kurds, Armenians, Chechens, Circassians, Greeks. Did they believe that these unfinished prayers would cease to reach the ears of their recipient? Perhaps they too sent up their own divine pleas, or was it that their certainty of victory negated the need for such supplications?\n⠀\nAs the Thracians emerged from concealment, their primitive weapons stark against the modern armaments of their foes, they were seen not as formidable warriors but as mere fodder for the slaughter. Yet, in the eyes of their god, these were noble sacrifices laid upon the altar of prevalence. And victory was indeed forthcoming. In the distance, a luminous red orb split the sky, blazing as fiercely as the sun, drawing the gaze of all on the battlefield. The clash of arms came to a standstill, arms raised to protect themselves from the glare as they looked upon it.\n⠀\n\nWhile the defenders murmured in puzzled tones, the Thracians exulted in knowing recognition. Their adversaries' confusion turned to dread as realization dawned too late. At first, they presumed it to be a bomb. And in that presumption, they weren't metaphorically wrong. Alas, it was the god, Ares. He descended like a meteor, his arrival marked by an explosive tumult. When the dust settled, the god of war stood formidable, withdrawing his spear from the lifeless corpse of the enemy's commander. The sight of Ares struck just as much awe in his faithful as it did terror in his adversaries. To his followers, he was a magnificent figure of divine wrath, their chests swelling with pride at the sight of their war god.\n⠀\nTo their enemies, he appeared demonic, a shadowy terror whose gaze, barely visible beneath his helm, shimmered with primal darkness. When he turned to eye the collection of soldiers, his face was angled towards the sun, causing the shadows to shift for only a second. In that brief pocket of visibility, the depths of his irises were revealed to the onlookers. They were Indistinguishable from the core of his pupils. Eyes filled with nothingness and everything all at once. The soldiers were horrified. In seconds, their overindulgent confidence had dwindled considerably. Though even so, the enemy lines faltered, but did not flee. Contrary to the addition of this new foe, the tides had not turned the decimation into a proper fight. No, no . . It was still very much a decimation. The soldiers fired with panic, their modern weaponry futile against the divine armor of a god.\n⠀\n\nAres, alongside the remaining two hundred Thracian warriors, cleaved through their ranks with ruthless precision. They rejected their enemies firearms for the visceral closeness of blade and spear, reveling in the ancient art of war. Anatolia's forces were halved in just under twenty minutes. Defenses leveled, thousands slaughtered, sanctuaries fallen in a relentless tide of destruction led by the god of war. Within the span of an hour, the Anatolian forces lay decimated. News of the cataclysm spread swiftly, chilling the hearts of neighboring societies who dared not send reinforcements against an adversary of his caliber. Anatolia was claimed, thoroughly and utterly, by Thracian might. Yet, before his departure, Ares addressed the darker side of victory.\n⠀\nHe summoned those who had overstepped in the fervor of conquest, who had deliberately inflicted harm upon the innocent women and children who sought only to flee from the path of endangerment. One by one, he exacted a grim toll for their transgressions, decapitating them one by one as a stark reminder that the horrors of war must never extend to the defenseless.\nAlthough he would not show it, these needless displays bothered him far more than he believed they should've. Thus chastened, Ares returned to the luminous heights of Olympus. Though it was night, the divine realm buzzed with the vibrancy of perpetual day.\n⠀\nStriding through the halls with purpose, his armor was still stained with the blood of battle. His presence commanded space, and he spoke not to anyone. Ares bypassed the bustling courtyards and the gathered deities, heading straight for the quarters of Aphrodite. His approach was unyielding as he pushed past attendants and servants to reach the doors of her common room, where he knew she would most likely be at this time of day. There, he lingered in the background, his formidable form leaning against a pillar, arms crossed, waiting silently for the goddess to acknowledge him.\n⠀\n\nDespite his bestial nature, he afforded her conversation the respect it was due, unwilling to disrupt her engagements. The onlookers, however, could not mask their unease, disturbed by the war-torn visage of the god who had just reshaped the fate of nations. His indifference to their stares spoke in itself of matters far weightier than their concern." }, { "author": ".+@ Aphrodite.", "message": "❝ ⌜But in fact, she is just as wise as she needs to be, she knows how to get what she wants.⎯ ✶⌝ ❞\n \nTitle. [Love is Madness](\nSetting. Within Aphrodite's Chambers.\nCharacters. , \nPings/Mentions. \nNotes:\n \n .𖥔˚.\n \n▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂\n_ _\n\nBored. She had grown into a state of boredom within the constant pleading from mortals for love. She heard their cries and pleas, for hearts to transform in their favor, for their goddess to grant them the serenity of a night's slumber in their lovers arms. Yet Aphrodite cared not for their pleas and desperate cry outs into the echoes of her temples down below. She cared not for the broken hearts or homes. Wives pleading for the return of their husbands, as their husband lie with another on a war torn battlefield. Fools. They were all fools. And Aphrodite could take the presence of fools little these days. Only to hold their worship in her name, showing her mercy just enough to give them hope. Hope that their goddess was still a merciful one and not the being filled with disdain and envy that existed within her domain.\n\n\"Send that one to my son, Eros can handle it.\" Her hand waved dismissively as a scroll sprawled across the floor in a poetic embrace to the goddess. Read aloud as it spoke to men who fell to their knees in awe of the goddess of beauty and desire. A desire now for mercy. A request of an empire, losing and desperate, as gold and gifts were placed beside her. Crowns that sparkled with the rarity of jewels that would catch any human woman's eyes, but Aphrodite possessed them all. \"I can not be bribed if I do not wish it.\" A growl of offense from her lips, her eyes a warning as flames grew within them. \"An enemy of my lover is no friend of mine. Send it back. With a message in warning of my wrath. Their leader will bear no further sons or daughters. He will hold no heirs with the woman he takes as wife, if he so much as glances at my temple once more, he will learn what it is to hold the curse of Aphrodite.\"\n\n*\"Goddess.\"* \n\nA humble bow of the head from a servant that had long since learned what it meant to be in the vicinity of Aphrodite within her blood lust. \"Good pet.\" Her voice purred, changing quickly, like the tides of the ocean, as a smirk crossed over lips that men and women alike had died for. A goddess, not of love, but of passion, and just as within lust, war and fury held such an emotion. An honorary figure amongst the battlefields was she, and a beautiful wraith amongst those she deemed her enemies. \n\nShe sensed his presence before her head turned in acknowledgent. The stench of blood rampaging against the sweet scent of roses, filling her lavish chambers of marble and silk as her eyes flickered with lust. \"You return to me so soon, my love?\" Her voice was honey as it spilled from her lips and she turned to him fully. A respect she returned in his presence, her hand moving to dismiss those around them. A silent demand for privacy. \n\nHere, in this moment, they were a contrast. Ares was rage, a deep pit of wrath that could never be filled. His hardened exterior, marked by the stains of conflict. Blood dried and pooled in crevices of his skin, but not a scratch seemed to tarnish the perfection that was his immortal body. His eyes spoke of a beast, returned from a successful hunt, while Aphrodite was a vision of silken robes that accentuated her timeless allure and embraced a porcelain body. Exuding an air of ethereal beauty and grace, with curls that formed around her shoulders in golden strands, shone and reflecting against the light. Eyes as blue as the sea she was born from, a pull like that of the sirens with promise of desire beyond the wildest of imagination. \n_ _\n\n\"And it seems with the evidence of victory still upon you.\" Her tongue ran along her teeth with approval. The look of a war torn man had always been a blessing to the eyes, but upon Ares it was awe inspiring. \n\nAphrodite's gaze lingered on Ares, drinking in the sight of him with a mixture of admiration and desire. To her, there was a magnetic allure in the aftermath of battle, a primal energy that ignited something within her immortal soul and cast the boredom from her thoughts. She found herself drawn to the remnants of conflict etched upon his form, each smudge a testament to his power and resilience. It was a pardoxial beauty, one that spoke of both destruction and strength, and she reveled in it with a hunger that only Ares could satiate. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Ares", "message": "⠀\nAres pushed off from his lean, his movements deliberate as he crossed the room. Those departing, previously oblivious to his presence, now cast furtive glances in his direction. Amidst their surreptitious observations, Ares remained fixated solely on his beloved, his gaze unwavering from the moment she came into view. The goddess's gaze held a power beyond words. In the depths of her eyes, pools of liquid sapphire shimmered with an otherworldly luminescence, radiating a warmth that softened even the sternest of souls—**The** Sternest of souls.\n\nDespite his stoicism, she could always pinpoint the precise moment her influence took hold. Perhaps it was another of her innate abilities. Her voice, powerful yet soothing, confounded even the greatest poets, who struggled to capture the endless beauty of Aphrodite. The mystery to many was how her eyes always brightened for a god who seemed as monstrous at heart as Typhon himself.\n\nAres moved toward Aphrodite with the tender deliberateness of one savoring a rare delicacy. He was well-versed in the gazes of women, whether they were goddesses or mortals. Often, in their eyes, he found them peering past the blood and brutality to anticipate the allure of the form beneath.\n\nPerhaps in his barest form, devoid of his weapons and armor, Ares felt his essence reduced. Clad in the blood-soaked vestiges of battle, he existed in his truest form. Aphrodite's eyes, however, never rushed to restore his conventionality; they sought to embrace the entirety of his being. This unwavering desire, just as passionate after centuries, drew him back to her chambers time and again. His stare lingered upon her, trailing from her chest back to her eyes. Despite her likely acceptance, he resolved to keep his distance, refusing to desecrate her with the blood of mortals.\n⠀\n\nEven in death, they could never be worthy of such an honor. \"Come.\" He uttered bluntly, his voice echoing through the common room. Assuming she would follow, he began to walk toward an alternate exit, his strides purposeful and unyielding. Ares paused momentarily at the doorway, holding it open for the goddess with an expectant glance before following behind her. The cool night air embraced them as they traversed the roofless passageway of an open-air corridor, the path illuminated by a canopy of twinkling stars above. It stretched before them, bordered by ancient columns that cast long shadows. Ares spoke again, his voice low but firm, as they continued their journey. \n⠀\n\"Something plagues me . . . And I much rather it wouldn't.\" He confessed, his brow furrowing with unspoken worries. The destination ahead was a private bathhouse, one of many in her ownership. As they arrived, Ares once again opened the ornate door for Aphrodite, his powerful frame silhouetted against the warm glow emanating from within. They entered, and he continued speaking as they moved past the inviting baths toward the showers beyond. \"Anatolia is now Thracian territory,\" He began, his tone dry and flat. \"They'll rebuild it in their image, repopulate it with their kind, surround it with effigies and offerings to the god that liberated them.\" \n⠀\nHis words were sharp, but burdened. As he spoke, Ares began stripping off his armor, starting with his helmet, which he set in the struggling arms of a brittle servant, who strained to carry it away. \"Out of fear, the neighboring nations will pledge their respect,\" He continued, removing his chestplate and handing it to another quivering servant. \"They bring gifts to honor the men who killed their friends, their family, their lovers.\" Piece by piece, he shed his armor, the bloodied metal handed off to a series of unequipped servants who struggled to carry it away from the confines of the bathhouse.\n⠀\n\n\"Though I believe that many of my followers confuse the treacherous nature of war with the act of treachery itself. I watched as men snatched children from their mothers and plunged them through the heart. Some would kill the mother first, to instill the child with the fear of hopelessness before they took their final breath.\" Ares's voice grew softer, almost remorseful, as he stepped into the shower, now completely nude. The hot water enveloping his figure as the steam rose from his skin, cleansing him of the blood and debris. His head tilted downward, allowing the water to wash over him in totality.\n⠀\n\"I etched each of their faces from the battlefield into the annals of my mind.  Once the Thracians claimed victory, I called these men forward, and I killed them. What baffled me . . . Was the look of surprise amongst the faces of the soldiers as I punished these men. It wasn't as if the act on its own was anything they hadn't just committed mere moments past. No, it was because I was the one doing it to one of them. Even as these men confessed their deeds in the twilight of their lives, justice conjured astonishment upon their colleagues, as if they dreaded they might be next. They looked upon me with eyes of the guilty, clouded with fear.\" His voice lowered with suppression, betraying his internal conflict.\n⠀\n\n\"That is when it dawned on me, Aphrodite. Do they beseech me as the god of treachery? A manifestation of Kakia? Have they mistaken the great grandeur of war for an infatuation with deceit and terror in the defenseless?\" Ares's voice grew more passionate as he spoke, his words resonating with a fervor that bordered on disgust. He stepped out of the shower, droplets of water cascading from the ends of his dark hair as he carefully approached Aphrodite. \"Displays like these; the slaughtering of children, of mothers. I know better than to believe it is rare. They do it in the name of Ares. Which means I am attributed to it at a far greater capacity than I have been aware of. Tell me, Goddess-\"\n⠀\nHe inches closer, until the distance between them became a difference of centimeters. \"Is that how you view me? A god who could ever find pleasure in the pointless murder of the protected?\" He asked as he looked down at Aphrodite, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that matched the storm in his soul. Now rinsed, his intent was to return to the bath, but whether or not he would wish for his lover to join him would depend upon her answer." }, { "author": "Aphrodite.", "message": "❝ ⌜But in fact, she is just as wise as she needs to be, she knows how to get what she wants.⎯ ✶⌝ ❞\n \nTitle. [Love is Madness](\nSetting. Within Aphrodite's Chambers.\nCharacters. , \nPings/Mentions. \nNotes:\n \n .𖥔˚.\n▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂\n_ _\n\nAphrodite stood in silence, her gaze studying him as he spoke. So often her lovers looked to her for solace, their heart an open wound that she easily turned away from, but never Ares. Never the man she arguably had always loved, only to be forced to the marriage of another and torn from his side. Divulging them into a deep pit of uncertainty and bitterness that the goddess never did seem to fully recover from. Leaving shattered hearts and torn lives in the wake of her destruction. Still, when he called upon her, she answered with the tender touch and care of a lover. Of the woman beneath the many masks that only the beast of war seemed to hold the key to. \n\n\"It is my turn.\" She spoke in soft manor, her hands guiding him into the bath in quiet request. Fingers moving the dress made of a cloth softer than silk to brush that of her thighs so that she could place herself around him. Leaning against the stone as her golden curls brushed his bare skin in feather light caresses, hand reaching for a cloth in silent diligence. It was a sight no one else would ever see from the Goddess of love and desire. A servant, only to he whom held her heart. \n_ _\n\nAs Ares shed the weight of his armor and the burden of his remorse, Aphrodite stood beside him, a beacon of solace in the storm of his turmoil, her hands gently gracing the skin she had explored countless times over the centuries as she finally spoke in silken whispers. \"Ares, my love, it pains me to see your mind give way to doubt and darkness. Do you think that is how I see you?\" The water cascaded over his form, Aphrodite working to cleanse not only his body but his spirit of the madness he had encountered upon the battlefield. So often she had seen it stain the minds of mortals, and though Gods had grown strength against the fragility of mortal men, they were not immune to the passions and ideologies that plagued the mind. The cloth stirred within the water as she leaned down, keeping herself dry but diligently washing away the stains of war and the shadows of doubt that lingered in the recesses of his mind. Every stroke of cloth against skin, another man's blood washed away to stir within the water beside them and dissipate. \n\nIn his eyes, she saw the reflection of a god wrestling with his own nature, torn between the primal instincts that drove him and the yearning for something greater, something more profound than the carnage of the battlefield. His vulnerability moved her, for it is in these moments of naked truth that the true essence of his being was laid bare before her and one could see just how breathtaking he was. \n_ _\n\n\"My dear Ares,\" She whispered, her voice a soft caress against the backdrop of his thoughts, \"You are more than the sum of their fears and misconceptions. You are the embodiment of passion and valor. The guardian of those who dare to defy.\" Her fingers moved across his shoulders and chest in practiced patience, the cloth a whisper of cool water against his skin. \"If they beseech you as the God of treachery, let them.\" Her words turned firm in response to the raw intensity of his own, heavy with the weight of a silent need for validation echoing in the hollow spaces of the heart. \n\n\"-But never question the way I see you.\" Reaching towards his face with gentle fingers, she guided his chin to meet her gaze. \"You are no monster, Ares. You do not terrorize the defenseless, but demand the best within.\" A storm of passion began to swirl in the own unsteady sea of her eyes, a need to see the disregard for self replaced with the confidence of the man she adored. A need to see the assurance of her love for him placed once more upon his soul, to see it remove the wrinkle of thought upon his face. \n_ _\n\n\"You are a guardian of a world that teeters on the edge of chaos, bound by the threads of fate that intertwine our destinies. In your arms I find sanctuary from the storms that rage within and around. You are my haven amidst existence. My peace and my protector... And the most breathtaking being I have ever laid eyes upon. May you never doubt that, my love, but I will be here to forever remind you when you do.\" \n\nSlowly, she immersed herself within the healing waters of renewal. A single foot and then another, to gently caress herself around him. Her dress remained, as she gave Ares the permission to demand her leave from his side, if he so wished it. As she wanted him to be the one to remove her clothing in order to stay, if he so required it. Her lips brushing against his own breath mingling as one to caress the skin, she whispered to him, \"In the midst of war there is passion, there is love, there is a need to survive, and a beacon of light to fight for. You are not treachery, but hope, my love. You are my beacon.\" \n▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂\n_ _" }, { "author": "Ares", "message": "Ares stood silently, his towering form cloaked in the stoicism of the warrior god he was. The water lapped gently at their forms as Aphrodite's golden curls brushed against his bare skin, her presence a soothing balm to his often restless spirit. Her words, tender yet potent, drifted through the air, touching something deep within the war-hardened recesses of his soul.\n\nAres rarely spoke if he did not genuinely feel as though words were necessary. His nature preferred the language of action to that of speech. Therefore, his response to the love goddess was not in the form of utterances, but in the firm, assured grasp of his hands on Aphrodite's soft, smooth skin. His touch was bold, each hold, a silent declaration of his intense nature, yet tempered by her profound effect. Even his aggression, typically raw and unyielding, was refined in her presence, his grasp assertive but mindful, never crossing the threshold into pain.\n\nAphrodite, sensing the shift in his demeanor, continued her gentle ministrations with the cloth, her motions reflecting the care and reverence she held for him. She spoke of valor and passion, of the misconceptions cast by others who saw only the god of war, and not the true deity beneath.\n\nAs she leaned in closer, her body pressing lightly against his, Ares' hands moved with a controlled urgency. He grabbed her dress, his fingers rough against the soft fabric, a stark contrast to the gentleness of her touch. With a decisive movement, he removed the barrier of her clothing, revealing her divine form to the steamy air of the bath. His actions were rough yet devoid of harm, a complexity that matched the contradictions of his nature.\n⠀\n\nIn that moment, as he stripped away the last vestiges of her outer defenses, Ares recognized the truth in her words. The misinterpretations of others were their own to bear. Could he really expect much of the same beings that deemed Zeus a god of peace and fairness? Such an epiphany was unlikely to stop Ares from killing those who sought to take pride in savage war crimes . . But none of that mattered at this moment. In the clarity of her gaze and the purity of their secluded cocoon, he saw that their views did not define him; only she held that power. He realized that he was not the monster they claimed, but the protector, the lover, the guardian that she knew him to be.\n\nAres remained largely silent, his few words a mere whisper against the symphony of her assurances. \"You are my truth,\" He stated simply, his voice a deep rumble, barely audible over the sound of the water. It was all he needed to say, his eyes locking with hers in a gaze that conveyed depths of emotion he'd never openly admit.\n\nThe chamber around them seemed to still, the world outside their watery embrace ceasing to exist. With a firm yet gentle pull, he drew her into the depths of the bath, his actions declaring her his beacon, his respite, and his undeniable equal in the vast pantheon of gods. As they settled into the warm embrace of the water, Ares abruptly leaned in and captured her lips with his in an aggressive kiss, his raw power and passion unleashed. The taste of her was like the electric charge of a storm, fierce and exhilarating, while the warmth of her skin against his burned like the hot embers of a fire, igniting a primal urgency within him.\n⠀\n\nHer kiss is not at all the same as any woman or goddess, but one steeped in a passion that ignites. Ferocity blends with gentleness, fervor intertwines with longing, all weaving into a sensation so transformative, it must surely be some kind of magic. It is the promise of realness, of the primal desire that lives within. And with it she tells him that she is awake, connected within, that she embraces herself wholly. \n\nAs their bodies sank deeper into the steaming bath, the quietude of the chamber was disrupted by the splash of water cascading over the sides, a wild symphony to their fervent embrace. Ares, driven by a tempest of emotion, shifted his focus from her lips down to the delicate curve of her neck. His kisses, imbued with reverence, traced the lines of her collarbone with deliberate care. Each one punctuated by soft, yet fervent bites, marking her as his own in this secluded realm where only they existed." } ]

[ { "author": "demiurgical", "message": "Apollo visits Psyche at the Elysium Retreat Wellness Spa for a relaxing massage. During his session, both gods discuss the pressing issues of the day and learn a little more about each other." }, { "author": ".* Psyche", "message": "Situated inside an earthly paradise of parkland in the middle of Olympian, the Elysium Retreat Wellness Spa blended seamlessly with its surroundings. Its architectural style was neoclassical and made from white marble, striking a harmonious contrast of grandeur against the peaceful pasture of green it was located in, welcoming guests through its doors from near and far. The entrance itself was framed by ivy that climbed the perimeter of the double doorway, blooming with jasmine flowers woven around the stiff threads to set a scene of luxury and allure. \n\nWhen Apollo arrived, he was welcomed to a reception area bathed in soft, ambient light as the gentle sound of flowing water from the nearby fountain filled the atrium with a sense of natural relaxation. Soon, he was led through a corridor adorned with landscape paintings and glowing lanterns that lit stonework carvings depicting legends and epics of myth. When he arrived at the private room, the reception clerk wished him well and made herself scarce, leaving the god to enter of his own volition. \n\nDesigned intricately for an experience of ultimate relaxation, the space flooded his senses with the scent of jasmine and amber, sunlight rolling across his body through a large window that overlooked a lush garden. Inside, a massage table stood in the centre of the room, draped in crisp white linen beside a table where aromatic oils and rejuvenating serums lined the surface. His masseuse welcomed him inside, her smile radiating a sense of serene calm as he entered, then closed the door quietly behind him.\n\nShe wore a simple dress that allowed for easy movement, her blonde hair cascading down in waves past slender shoulders halfway down her forearms. Her shoes were modestly heeled and clicked as she turned to face the god, closing the distance between them as she relocated to the massage table in the middle of the room. Then, with a look of warmth, she greeted him earnestly in kind. \n\n**\"Hello, sweet Apollo. I was worried that you wouldn't show,\"** The goddess smiled, her voice a silky lilt that soothed the senses. **\"Make yourself as comfortable as you'd like. I'll start warming an oil blend with my hands while you get situated. How do we feel about sandalwood and bergamot? They both do wonders for softening tension in muscle.\"** \n\nBehind him, the blinds descended gently seemingly of their own mind; her command over the material world manifested through nothing more than a simple thought, allowing her to control objects and matter alike. In her hands, she warmed the blend of oils together with hypnotising, circular movements, filling the room with the combined scent of something euphoric and calming. Eventually, low, ambient light from glowing lamps replaced the harsh illumination of daytime as the blinds concealed the windows, shutting both of them off from the outside world.\n\n**\"Remove your shirt when you're quite ready,\"** Psyche said softly, her lilt as soothing as the atmosphere she had gone to great lengths to curate for the God of the Sun as he acclimatised to his surroundings. **\"Then we'll begin. Do you feel any tension anywhere in particular?\"**" }, { "author": "Apollo", "message": "Amongst the soft off-whites and gentle lighting, a wash of darkness, like shadows, moved through the scene like a serpent. Despite being the god of the sun and many other artistic and beautiful things, Apollo favored a darker look this century. His flesh, once unblemished, had been collecting ink. At first, it had been little more than experimentation. But in the work upon his form, he had bestowed divine intervention on those who pressed ink to his flesh. Not all were of the utmost quality, but through worship, he granted boons beyond the scope of what they thought was possible from such a simple, everyday transaction. \n\nIf one thing was for sure, it was that this look made him stand out. Furthermore, the frame beneath the dark fabric did much to make his entrance more memorable. A simple, black Henley was nothing to write home about, but the abundance of Olympian physique beneath tested the elasticity of the bicep cuff. The ink spilled forth from the fabric down to the knuckles in two separate designs mostly done in black, white, and grey scale. Color was present here and there, but he favored the continuity established by the more significant works beneath the waffle-knit fabrics. \n\nWhere his eyes fell was impossible to know. Ray Banes cloaked his gaze behind dark shades that did not get removed upon entering the premises. Apparently, he could see fine, and it gave him this aura of mystique, or so he thought. Truth be told, when conversing with the attractive localities of Olympain, he dared not let his gaze linger too long where it did not belong. Some would get the right idea, and while there had been a time when he engaged with any and every pretty face that crossed his path, he felt *Different* After his introduction to fatherhood. Somehow, the notion of being known for his libido in a world where his daughter existed didn't please him. She made him *Want* To be better. A role model, all be it a flawed one.\n\nUpon rounding the corner, the mass of darkness came face to face with Psyche. She had a face fit for sculpting. She was as inspiring as any muse he had laid eyes on before. \"Not show when you seemed so eager for my presence?\" While she could not see his eyes, there was a sense that his face was twisting into the quintessential *Girl-please* Sort of look. A slight perk of a brow gave it away. He spoke in a deeper tone. Something fitting his barrel chest as both hands reached to take her hand for but a second. They were massive. If curled into a fist, one could imagine the force of a cinder block traveling faster than mortal eyes could follow. Yet, they held her delicately, even if the pads of his fingers were worn by time and the labors of combat. \n\n\"I typically wear sandalwood, though bergamot is a new twist. I defer to your superior judgment. By this point, he removed his glasses and set them upon a flat surface in one smooth stroke. At least his eyes were a lighter contrast. That was a part of himself he would not change. A quick glance from her to the descending blinds took his attention for a moment, but the words that followed brought him right back. \"Not even a dinner first?\" A playful tsk tsk sounded from his lips. Like a good soldier, his hands paired to remove his shirt in a fluid motion. When removed, he laid it right next to his glasses without any need to fold. \n\nIt was as advertised. Muscle massed beneath inked flesh. A pair of barbell piercings through either nipple was a touch he had added some years back. If he removed them, it would be nothing to redo the project after it healed, but somehow, the glint of stainless steel against so much inkwork would have been an attractive addition, or so he thought. \"You create a blissful tension just by being near you. It starts in my core and spreads..\" Fingers came to press at a point in his abdomen before his fingers spread out against the flesh, miming the sensation.\n\nHis body turned, moving to sit upon the surface, legs dangling over the side to skim the tops of the floor beneath. \"You direct me, and I will play a willing client for as long as I feel the game is fun. Though, do not be shocked if I grow a little defiant.\" No god, past or present, winked as effectively as this flirtatious poet-god. It was in the body language of his shoulders and the slight bite at the inside of his lip. Subtle, yet bold in how he admired the fabric of her dress and how it rested atop her feminine form." }, { "author": ".* Psyche", "message": "Struck by his new look, the goddess marvelled at the sight of him, enchanted by the change in hair from radiant blonde to black, her eyes drawn to the dark, intricate tattoos that wove around his muscle-bound physique. Creating a striking contrast against his pale skin, it was almost as if she was looking at someone else entirely, for he was not the Apollo who appeared to her at his temple on a mountain alongside her parents so long ago. Or rather he was, though with a newfound grit that added to his commanding presence visually *And* Physically all at once. \n\nHis charm, like his good looks, superseded him. The very moment he entered the room, warmth spread like invisible wildfire, infecting and thrumming through everything within his path. Touched by the same tingling sensation of fire, the blonde's lips curved into a friendly if not *Appreciative* Smile as he took her hands in his, deft by comparison, and swiped the calloused pad of a thumb across her soft skin. **\"Eager is overstating it,\"** The goddess said gently, her lilt as calming as the sweet aroma of oils that wafted in the air between them. **\"But I was admittedly anticipating your arrival. It's not everyday** ***Apollo*** **Stops by for a massage, is it?\"**\n\nHer smile grew as their eye contact lingered for a good beat, until eventually, he removed his Ray Bans in one swipe and placed them on the table beside the massage bed. Mesmerised by his effortless gusto, she was taken by their bright and inviting brilliance, her wit effectively pacified in their blazing dazzle as she entertained his playful remark. **\"I should think** ***You*** **Would see to my invitation to dinner with you,\"** The goddess said coyly with an unperturbed grin, massaging the warm, aromatic oils into the palms of her hands. **\"But shall we see how you fare in this arena first?\"**\n\nShe went quiet and stood poised as the god removed his shirt, crossing bulky arms down across his chiselled torso to pull it above his head and eventually discarding it. Once more her shimmering eyes were drawn to the full extent of the canvas of artwork that spanned the entirety of his body. Each mark and etch seemed to tell a story, their dark lines contrasting sharply with the natural glow of his divine form as he stood before her, almost anticipating her reaction. As expected, there was a girlish glint in her eyes as she trailed them down the ink beneath the sinew of his chest to follow where his hand moved to, focusing on the spot of his abdomen where it rested. \n\nHis voice was as soothing as the embrace of a warm fire, her countenance chipped at by the hypnotising movements of thick fingers that splayed across marked skin while he spoke. **\"And you truly are the God of Poetry,\"** Was all the blonde said, her whisper a faint plaudit of admiration and song as her eyes followed the sculpted edges of rippling muscles down to the sharp v-shape indented just above his waist. **\"Aren't you?\"**\n\nHe sat on the edge of the massage bed and turned his head to face her as she pressed forward, the bottoms of her heels clicking quietly against the marble floor. Between his thighs, she reached out with both hands and placed them against his chest, applying gentle pressure that helped guide him into a recline, though he would need to rotate accordingly because of the angle. **\"If it's any consolation, you wouldn't be the first male client whose** ***Excitement*** **Became a distraction,\"** She toyed with him, enjoying how the ephemeral connotations of her words washed over in waves that dissipated as soon as they crashed into him. **\"Much less the only man to grow some temerity at an instruction. On your front, please, sweet Apollo,\"** She tested his resolve once again, her wry smile a daring reminder of her fearless zest for adventure.\n\n**\"And we'll make short work of all that tension in your neck too.\"**\n\n||" }, { "author": "Apollo", "message": "\"It could be if you asked nicely.\" Apollo had no shortage of quick wit. No sooner had the words left her lips did a clever riposte spill from that silvered tongue with just the right amount of smile to suggest that it was possible for her whim to be his vow. For a daily visit, hands could be set to the task. \"I am not such a busy god that I could not carve away time for you. I enjoy my muses, and I find you to be especially inspiring.\" Like an artist, his words brushed a canvas to create the picture of a two-fold attraction. Like any season courtier, he wished to be placating, alluring, and still mysterious all at the same time. \n\nShe drank willingly with her eyes, and for the longest time, his had only stayed fixated upon her own. It was as if he was sustained by the glint in her eye. She feasted, and he leaned ever so slightly forward, eager to bask in the radiance of her gaze. \"Since when could you read minds?\" The grin was coy, and that was when his eyes took their first noticeable dip. With no shades blocking his intent, she would note how every feminine curve was noted. Could she notice how his finger curled into the padding of the table beneath his fingers? That silent bid for self-control telegraphed how close he was to launching himself at her. \n\nYet, he did not. Control won this day in favor of maintaining their delicate dance. Some gods, when dealing with their peers, lacked the art of subtly, and Psyche was the sort that seemed she would appreciate a bit of cat and mouse. Any brute could make an attempt to bend a woman over the table, but it was a rare feat that one was patient enough to coax out the feral minx over the course of hours, days, and weeks. Apollo had not known attraction in a decade.\n\n\"Would you forgive me for being so late with something so long overdue?\" When he perked a brow, it was with purpose. It was the punctuation at the end of a sentence. \"A child of mine was in dire need of guidance and took all of my focus. Who knew fatherhood could be so rewarding?\" There was no lack of pride in his voice for his Aurora. A sweet girl with limitless potential. \"I believe she is the only thing that could have kept me from visiting earlier.\" Not many knew why Apollo had suddenly fallen from the face of the realm, but there were rumors. Some scandalous, entrancing lover, or perhaps blackmailed by some great shame. The truth was that he had finally found something beyond himself worth devoting his attention to. After countless years, even old gods could grow. \n\n\"Maybe you will entertain the thought of making me look better by going with me to this ball Aphrodite is throwing together? I know you would be doing ME the favor, but I have been known to be worthwhile company from time to time.\" He paused before adding. \"There will be dinner in that, of course, and another more intimate outing should you desire it.\" She remarked on his work of poetry, and he gave a sheepish sort of shrug. While he could play the innocent, they both knew better, yet he was convincing. He was a patron of the arts, and acting was not outside of his repertoire.\n\nWith a slight sway, he pushed back against her hand, to bring him closer to her face. It showed his strength and gave her light touch proper purchase on the expanse of muscles that had been beneath her fingertips. \"Yes, but were they worthy?\" A quick adventure to look upon her lips while inside of her bubble hinted at hidden thoughts, but he retreated as promised, and as gracefully as a dancer, he bent back and rolled to his stomach, making proper adjustments to lay how she asked. Within seconds, he was settled, his arms hanging by gravity's whim from the side. It was not the traditional position, but depending on the side she took, she would feel the gentle graze of a knuckle upon her leg. Something small but electrifying. \n\n\"So, a spa.\" The question was implied, but she did not have to wait long for him to expand. \"You ever were the healer. Soothing the weary soul.\" Beneath her touch, she would feel the tension of a god's stress melt away. There was a pause before he spoke once more. \"How has the last decade treated you?\"" } ]

[ { "author": "etherealqueen1", "message": "Location: Peitho's Penthouse \nWho: Thanatos and Peitho" }, { "author": "PIeITN'O ", "message": "***The sun descended slowly past the horizon, casting a pink and purple light across the evening sky. The goddess of seduction sat upon her velvet pink couch, looking out from the large windows of her penthouse. Earlier in the day, she had been in Eris's club doing what she normally did... Cause trouble amongst the patrons. The two goddess got along wonderfully it seemed, when it came to stirring things up amongst others anyways. It was fulfilling to her at least, a form of entertainment. Rather than simply watching it on the screen however, she made it so it would be live right in front of her. Today, she simply managed to indirectly start a fight between two demigods over some nonsense. It was certainly a sight, yet also proof to her that mortals were far too weak minded than she liked. They were far too easy to manipulate. As fun as it was, she needed some peace after the day was over with. Now, here she sat. Wine glass in hand filled with her favorite red, and eyes casting out over the city. It was quite the view, to see everything from above. A feeling she once had before she began living life in the mortal world, a feeling she often missed. The superiority of living above the rest, at least she had her abilities and immortality to remind her of it.***\n\n~\n\n***Perfectly manicured nails tapped against the end table she had at the end of the couch, creating a soft rhythm to ease the silence in her home. She was bored so to speak, extremely bored now. She eyed her cell phone that rested on the table, mulling over the many ways she could ease her boredom. Yet, only one of her ideas managed to stand out from the rest. She grabbed her iPhone, an amazing invention in her eyes, and quickly sent a short text message to one of her various buddies. It had been some time since she seen Thanatos, his brother having hogged up most of her time it seemed. Though she didn't mind Moros, she needed a break from the god. She found him to be a bit too much at times, which almost sounds insane coming from her. She needed something fresh, someone who can not only give her some company but also at least some nice conversation. Thanatos was always one to give her such, she wasn't the best with having friends but he certainly indulged with her at times. One of very few who seem to be able to handle her. After she sent the text, she laid her phone down and took a quick glance around her penthouse... Then at her attire.***\n\n~\n\n***One thing the goddess cared for most was her appearances. Whether it be her own physical appearance, or that of her home. She hired a maid who often cleaned her penthouse, ensuring it almost always sparkled. The floors so clean one could see their own reflection, everything neatly organized, and most of all maintaining its vibrancy. It appeared as if she had just moved in, and that is exactly how she liked her home. As for her own appearances, well she always dressed to impress. Her red hair falling in soft and silky waves, skin as clear as can be, and as always... Her nails all done. Today, she wore black slacks with a matching blazer and a lace top underneath. Her red locks remained loose over her shoulders, her nails painted red and fingers adorned with various rings. Her skin smelling of jasmine and vanilla from her Valentino perfume. As per her signature, the only makeup she wore was the red lipstick she painted on her lips. Knowing she looked absolutely perfect, she awaited Thanatos's arrival.***" }, { "author": "yapyapthedespoiler", "message": "Than:Thanatos leaned against the cold stone walls of the Underworld, his eyes closed as he savored a rare moment of stillness. The ceaseless tide of souls had slowed for the night, granting him a brief respite from his eternal duties. His phone buzzed in his pocket, a sharp contrast to the ancient surroundings. He pulled it out, the screen casting an eerie glow on his pallid face.\n\n*Text from Peithos: \"Hey, dark and brooding. Fancy a visit? My penthouse could use a touch of your morbid charm 😉\"*\n\nA faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Peithos, the goddess of persuasion and seduction, always had a way of breaking through his stoic exterior. He tapped out a quick response.\n\n*Thanatos: \"On my way. Keep the wine ready.\"*\n\nWith a quick glance around to ensure everything was in order, Thanatos slipped through the shadows, leaving the Underworld behind. The transition from the land of the dead to the modern world was seamless for a god of his stature. One moment, he was surrounded by the whispers of lost souls; the next, he was stepping into a sleek, dimly lit elevator in a luxury skyscraper.\n\nThe elevator ascended swiftly, the numbers blinking upward until they reached the top floor. The doors slid open to reveal a lavish penthouse, its floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city below. Soft music played in the background, mingling with the faint hum of urban life.\n\nPeithos was waiting, draped elegantly across a plush sofa. Her beauty was ethereal, a blend of timeless grace and modern allure. She wore an outfit that clung to her curves but it was her makeup that held him, its deep red hue accentuating her flawless skin. \"Peitho.\" He greeted her with a word. A smirk threatened to tug at his lips, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. \"It's been far too long. I was glad to get your... Persuasive invitation.\" \n\n___________________________\n**Tags:**" }, { "author": "PIeITN'O ", "message": "***Hearing the buzz of her phone, Peitho lifted it from the table. Opening up the message, her lips lifted into a gentle smile. She closed out the message, walking to grab their favorite bottle of wine from her kitchen counter. She set it aside on the end table, along with an extra glass for Thanatos. The wine itself was an expensive red, the taste not too sweet nor too bitter. A perfect mixture.*** \n\n***Once she settled back down, she took the time to scroll on her little phone. Letting her thoughts roam free whilst she waited. She remembered her first run in with Thanatos, she had been leaving his brother's home from the underworld... And everything started from there.***\n\n***While she often went to the Underworld for these visits, she needed a break from its darkness. She risked her own life being down there, and the unsettling feeling she often felt was exhausting. Peitho never felt good in the Underworld, it was daunting and she swore sometimes the darkness messed with her own head. That was the part she hated the most, how it messed with her.*** \n\n***Peitho figured that Thanatos could use some respite, see some beauty and light for once rather than his shadows and souls he lived around. Her penthouse was a luxury place in contrast to his home in the crypt, and after all Peitho herself is the most beautiful sight here. At least, that is what she believed in her own eyes. The only other goddess she deemed more beautiful than all is her beloved Aphrodite.***\n\n***The soft ding of the elevator broke her from her train of thought, alerting her of her guest's arrival. She turned her head back to look towards the entrance, watching as the doors opened and while Thanatos walked into her home. Her hazel colored eyes swept over his form, drinking in every inch. Shameless in how she looked at him, she brought her gaze to his face after a few long moments. A grin crossing her features, and a glint in her eyes.*** \n\n***Dark and brooding is how she always described him to be, but that is exactly what drew her in. His sheer intensity yet serene features despite being associated with death. Of course though, she was biased. She never faced his wrath, and never would. If she did however, she would be far from fearful of him. Standing from her seat, Peitho glided towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Engulfing him in a gentle hug, she pressed a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth and pulled herself away.***\n\n\"Thanatos, it has indeed been far too long. You can blame your brother for such anyways.\" ***She grinned.*** \"Oh so you did enjoy my little message to you? I have to keep you in high spirits somehow... And of course on your toes.\" ***Peitho gestured towards the wine bottle and the empty glass.*** \"Would you like to enjoy some wine? We have much to catch up on and it is our favorite from long ago.\" ***She winked, moving to take a seat on her couch.***" }, { "author": "Thantos| God of Death", "message": "He couldn't help but smile as he found himself staring into Peitho's hazel gaze. Her's were special, was is because she was a goddess? Or was she alone this special? He found it hard to look away from the mesmerizing depths, the flecks of color that seemed to catch the light and add a subtle sparkle to the inferno that was his... Friend. Thanatos chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that vibrated through the room. \"Your invitation was... Persuasive, I will give you that.\" He answered as he poured himself and her a glass of the expensive vintage before he joined her on the couch. \n\nThanatos would never admit it to her for fear of it inflating her already godly ego, but the lord of death found solace in Peithos's presence. She was a rare escape from the weight of his responsibilities. Here, in this moment, he was not the grim reaper, but a man captivated by the goddess beside him. \"Surely you didn't bring me here for just my handsome looks.\" It was his turn to flash her a playful wink as the glass found his lips to take the first drink from it, the first of many.\n\nAs her arms left him he found himself mourning the loss of her touch. It wasn't the wine that was intoxicating, as good as the alcohol was. It paled in comparison to her something he was certain she told herself. \"Other than ignoring me for my brother what have you been up to? How'd you fare with Hades... Outburst.\" He asked shifting his full focus to her.\n—————————————————\n**Tags:**" }, { "author": "PIeITN'O ", "message": "***Peitho pouted her lips in response, he certainly knew too well to not compliment her too much. She thought her message to be quite creative if she said so herself. She looked up at him from the couch, her eyes raking across his body to his face. Staring into his own, hazel meeting hazel. The goddess was hardly ever subtle with how she gazed at him, clearly doing more than just admiring his clothing. It was wondered why she ever associated herself with him to begin with, why she would play with death and doom in the first place. The answer was a simple one, Peitho enjoyed the risk and the thrill of it. But she further found Thanatos to be quite attractive, and he had at least a good sense of style. Enough to suit her tastes anyways.*** \"I am the goddess of persuasion, of course it was. You could have given me a bit more than that, but I will deem your answer acceptable for now.\" ***She hummed, a playful glint in her eyes.*** \n\n***The goddess shifted herself on the couch, moving only slightly closer to him. She knew the effect she had on him, as it was the same for anyone else in her presence. The desire to be closer to her, to need her conversation and drink in as much of it as she would give. Peitho enjoyed being able to tease her lovers with this, to give so much yet so little of what they wanted. To make them yearn for more of her. She lifted her glass, taking a small sip of the wine before setting it down.*** \"Oh I surely did not Thanatos, though your handsome looks as you call them are very pleasing to the eye. Perhaps I should invite you more often for just that.\" ***She chuckled.*** \"You may be a god of death, but you certainly give death a very good look.\"\n\n***Peitho groaned, resting her right arm on the back of the couch. Her palm open and cradling her head as she faced him.*** \"Darling I find it impossible to ignore you, as I said do blame your brother for my absence. He became a tad bit too controlling, and we both know how I feel about being restricted in such a way.\" ***She said with a knowing look. It was something Peitho made very well known about her, she was not one to be restricted outside of the bedroom.*** \"As for Hades's outburst, why did he decide to throw a tantrum now? There is a reason I invited you this time instead of going to the Underworld like usual, better to remain away from there for a bit now after that.\" ***In other words, she was a bit fearful of returning there. At least, until she was sure Hades wouldn't have yet another outburst. The goddess would never admit it out loud.*** \n\n***Peitho shook the thought from her head, inching only a bit closer to Thanatos. She moved her arm from the couch placing a hand on his shoulder. Fingers moving in gentle circles, her painted nails only grazing the skin through his top.*** \"Since you mentioned it, you must have missed me greatly to bring up my absence in your life as of late... Yes? Enough to... Think of me?\" ***She questioned, grinning with mischief. One thing she enjoyed about her aura, it made it very hard for others to deny these things. She already knew the answer, she just wished to hear it out loud from him.***\n\n———————————" } ]

[ { "author": "demiurgical", "message": "Eros visits Psyche's spa following the events of the attack at the gala. During his treatment, the ex-lovers discuss the future, as well as his relationship with Zelus." }, { "author": ".* Psyche", "message": "The Elysium Retreat was the very epitome of luxury and tranquillity, nestled in the busy streets of the centre of Olympian. Set back away from the hustle and bustle behind a pristinely landscaped French-style garden, the grand entrance greeted visitors with a soothing melody of falling water that cascaded down a marble feature wall, its crystal-clear waters shimmering under the glow of golden chandeliers.\n\nThe spacious foyer was adorned with art pieces depicting scenes of ancient mythology, each one meticulously crafted to capture the essence of the goddess Psyche's trials, crowned by velvet sofas and intricately carved wooden tables. Guests were invited to linger and indulge in conversation while sipping on refreshing herbal teas served by attentive staff dressed in flowing robes of celestial blue. Further inside, a mixture of aromas with notes of lavender, jasmine, and sandalwood mingled in the air, creating a sensory experience that calmed and rejuvenated the soul for all those inside. The lighting was soft and ambient, casting a warm and ethereal glow that bathed the space in pure radiance. It was, in other words, utter bliss.\n\nThe treatment rooms exuded the same opulence and comfort, each one a sanctuary of healing and relaxation. The walls were adorned with grand sculptures lit against a backdrop of golden light, depicting ancient legends and stories that featured all manner of fantastical creatures. Plush massage tables draped in silk beckoned visitors to surrender to the skilled hands of expert therapists while gentle music and the sound of trickling water lulled them into a state of heavenly peace. \n\nTucked away into one of the suites, the goddess Psyche tinkered away at the tools and utensils that lined a cabinet beside the massage bed as she awaited her client, making sure that every last detail was accounted for. Taking pride in presentation as much as she did results, the blonde left no stone unturned as she carefully lined them up onto a soft, white cloth after sterilising them, anticipating the arrival of a special guest while polishing them clean. The room itself was redolent with the scent of exotic wildflowers and essential oils, all of which mingled seamlessly as torches lined the walls and created a relaxing ambience of warmth and serenity. Shelves lined the walls full of bottles of fragrant oils and jars of luxurious creams, each carefully selected according to the taste of the man that was to shortly arrive.\n\nAnd arrive he did. \n\nShe expected no less than to see him impeccably dressed in smart clothing tailored to his measurements; Eros had something of a knack for embodying the essence of masculinity in a way that went beyond conservative bland notions of common style. Either way, the atmosphere enveloped him like a warm embrace as his striking silhouette appeared in the doorway of the treatment room, flooding him with the scent of lavender and the gentle murmur of water from the water feature in the main foyer. \n\n**\"You look divine, Eros,\"** The goddess said without turning to face him, placing a pair of metallic tweezers down on the cabinet before finally turning around to appreciate his familiar visage. **\"But I'm sure you've already done enough diligence to be sure of that.\"**\n\nHer smile was friendly, her body language inviting as she gestured for him to enter. \n\n**\"Sit down when you're ready and we'll start with a facial,\"** She said casually, owing to their long history of friendship over the millennia. **\"There's something I want to pick your brain about.\"**\n\n||" }, { "author": ".+ Eros.", "message": "Upon his return to the informality of Olympian, he understood that it was only special for a single, distinguishing reason— for those that inhabited it, and those that did not.\n_ _\nThere was little that could restrain him or keep his flame of intrigue kindled. Molded by the digits of desire, Eros had become callous and hard to the cheap thrills that the world offered to him. It took the most tantalizing of tonics to quench his tongue, the most revitalizing of toxins to quicken the pace of his fastened heart. At his request, commands were met with haste, and wishes were fulfilled on the luxury of a silver platter. Eros was enlivened until he was no longer, drifting in tastes and inclinations. A passing lover was exchanged with the impermanent days, as fleeting and anticipated as the rising tide. The god's callousness— his private, sporadic distaste in the monotony of life— was only for him to know, kept tucked beneath a sheet of masks.\n_ _\nFor a deity so adored, he was often mistranslated and misconstrued. Could it be a true mistranslation if he found pleasure in the fallacies, outwardly aplenty? His charm tampered between falsehood and actuality too infrequently for him to comprehend its truth. There were, however, the souls of two that knew him. In time had they felt the textures of his heart— one of chaste, and one of romance. It was Psyche that knew him, huddled in the consistencies of the city. The other, wherever he may be, felt so disconcertingly distant. Eros questioned if a physical proximity could even undo the wrongs that were left to amend.\n_ _\n\nNo more of that. It was Psyche that knew him, and she was here. She was tangible, near and within sight. He retired from his trip to France, and she would be his first pit–stop. Amusingly, her companionship felt more like a holiday than any scattered country on the map.\n_ _\nWhere travelers found a budding romance in Paris, Eros found materialistic stimulation. He was dressed in it— he returned in hand–crafted loafers of polished leather, spritzed in a seductive fragrance of Serge Lutens. Adorned in Hermès, bejeweled in lustrous silver; Eros ensured that a space would be overrun with the weight of him, dressed in what could be comparable to his worth. Eros had spent his time in shameless indulgence, frequenting the shops of Paris and the waters of Cannes. He engorged dishes of fruit tarts and airy soufflés, and observed bygone monuments as if he had not been there to watch their construction. Eros laughed, sunbathed, drank, catnapped— and he returned, as if such a resort was a thing of normalcy.\n_ _\n\nThe Elysium Retreat was a consistency that he appreciated, for his time with Psyche was both gladdening and eccentric. With a walk of playful firmness, Eros paced past guests and staff who were well–versed in his antics. The scent of lavender, enough to induce sleep, blended with his aroma of roses, which only ever intended to arouse the senses. Together, he was a concoction of solace and debauchery, from the touch of his hands to the blue of his eyes. The spa's glow caressed his cheeks and softened his lashes, as if he could become more cherubic than before. Dressed in the hue of a blooming lilac, a loose sweater hid the toned shape of his bodice, with buttons undone at his abdomen. Hair, sloppily styled, was authentically curled at the ends, and his chest was complimented by a memorable necklace of quartz.\n_ _\nA smile that was expected only deepened at the sight of her, cocking his head. Quickly did his presence move from the doorway to the room's center, replicating the magnetism of the foyer's divine portraits.\n_ _\n**\"Think so? Well, it only counts if it's coming from you.\"**\n_ _\nThe mask wavered, but through her love he became true in his affections. His tone was impish, but drenched in a unique softness. Briefly did his eyes look from the assorted treatments to the shine of tweezers and facial rollers, knowing it all too well. As her stance invited him closer, his own mirrored it. Without a sliver of hesitance, he slid into the plush chair, shifting his shoulders and peering up at her.\n_ _\n**\"Whenever you are. There is much to tell you about France. I'd like to take you next time, will you let me?\"** Absentmindedly, he grazed the rings clad to his fingers. Her inflection caused him to hum. **\"Do you have a penny for my thoughts? I should charge you more than that.\"** Eros placed his hands atop his chest, and it was his way of allowing her to pry— as if she would ever need permission.\n_ _\n||" }, { "author": ".* Psyche", "message": "There were more beautiful things than to be romantically involved - a lesson learned through trials so inexplicable, that their details warranted no rehash. Over the ages, Psyche and Eros had explored every crevice of possibility in their long lives, both as lovers and as acquaintances, then eventually as soulmates destined to coexist in perpetuity by threads woven by the very Fates themselves. That sense of safety had been born from longing, which had subsided naturally over the ages and grown into something far more coveted than the sweet sin of desire, lust, or even love. The beauty of it was that it could not be defined in words. \n\nJust reassurance.\n\nEros was not merely someone the goddess had loved and lost. He was, by all marks, a constant in her life, and one that she had become so incalculably entwined with. Beyond a shared history, their exploration of each other's innermost fears, dreams, and philosophies crafted a tale of understanding - one in which two immortal beings tied together by a mutual zest to live life to its fullest had become compatible as platonic companions. Together, they loved. They laughed. They cried. Now, as it had been for so long, both gods knew who and what they were beyond the confines of each other, forever defined by their friendship as much as their complicated history.\n\nEros often found an escape in hedonistic pursuits, though his unwavering strength as a man was not something that became twisted, much less tainted by the end of their union. For the goddess of the mind and soul, looking between the shades of his resilience realised her to a well-concealed vulnerability that often gave way to doubt and fear. He hid it well, beneath a facade of opulence and aristocratic sophistication, championing his own indulgence in materialistic comforts and finery to cover the minute cracks. But beneath the tactile pleasure of beauty, intoxicating scents of rich perfumes, and the visual delight of everything divine, was a man that she knew more than she knew anybody.\n\nHe had, after all, touched her mind and soul in ways that defied mortal understanding. Archaic notions of romance long cast aside, his character had left a profound and infinite effect at the core of her very being from the very first time they met. She admired, above all else, his strength and loyalty, for both had been driving forces between their reconciliation when both became endeared to the idea of a formal termination of their marriage. For everything they built did not simply vanish because of it, but rather the bonds that tied them to each other had changed much like the world around them.\n\nDuty and commitment, it seemed, had always been one of his strong suits - however much he or others were prone to contest it. That, by in large, is why Psyche had seen to it that the Spa was in top shape prior to his arrival; he enjoyed - perhaps even needed - the comforting sense of consistency that she had *Always* Provided, however fleeting the joys and thrills of momentary distractions could be. He was, above all else, a paradoxical figure who understood the transient nature of pleasure yet always strived to find beauty in every moment. \n\nInside, the warmth of classical aesthetics mixed with the scent of lavender and jasmine to create a refreshing atmosphere of rejuvenation and relaxation. Gilded marble complimented the minimalist grandeur of colossal architecture in a vast expanse of Hellenic purity, casting shadows across sparkling floors engraved with golden patterns and frescos that depicted stories from a world long lost. Walking through them, Eros was met with a reception quite unlike any other, a sea of hushed gasps like a crashing wave as it echoed and resonated between stone walls. His handsome visage was a welcome gift as he hovered in the doorway, chiselled cheekbones catching the light so that a radiant glow strobed across his angular features. He was, as always, a sight for sore eyes.\n\n**\"Flatterer.\"** She gave him a look of mocking contempt, her lips widening into a warm smile. \n\nHer eyes softened as he entered. Always equipped with a disarmingly warm disposition, Psyche's gaze was healing as it was all-knowing. Her eyes, like twin stars, burned bright through the layers of pretence that others nestled their true selves beneath, allowing her to see their thoughts like sunlight shining through spring water on a mountain peak. Eros, however, was not the recipient, for she did not need to look far within him, or herself, to be certain of it. At first glance, their defences were gone, much like the world that forced such fallacies out of them. \n\nShe sold sanctuary.\n\n**\"Paris, I hear, is a nightmare,\"** She said, her lips crooked as her eyes fluttered down to steal a glance from him while he got comfortable on the chair. **\"Though the south has a reputation of luxury and glitz that I imagine far surpasses whatever debauchery it could ever offer. My god,\"** Psyche's manicured brow rose, her voice hushed as her gaze dropped to find his eyes. Her cadence was far more jovial. **\"You've been exfoliating. A new beau?\"**\n\nShe pulled on a pair of latex gloves and cast the wrapper aside, reaching over his head for a small tube of cleansing balm, then squeezed two beads onto her forefingers and spread it evenly over his face. For a moment, the muscles in her face tightened as she contemplated the real reason for summoning his analysis. **\"I've been thinking about this silly war,\"** She said quietly, massaging the gel into his skin. **\"More importantly what it might mean for Hedone. Left to their own devices, we'll be lucky if they manage to destroy each other.\"** \n\nShe went silent. Her hands went still as her eyes trailed across to meet his gaze, letting out a soft breath as Eros moved both hands to his chest. **\"The gala. It became something of a ruckus to put it lightly. I'm surprised you haven't caught wind.\"**" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "A sacred space within Aphrodite's Bliss is the Ethereal Harmony Chapel, where couples come to celebrate their love through ceremonies, vow renewals, and sacred unions. The chapel is adorned with celestial decorations, and divine officiants preside over ceremonies that honor the goddess's influence on romantic connections." }, { "author": "Orion", "message": "**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ ** **__\"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.\" __**\n\nContrary to popular belief, Orion was quite a busy individual when it came to his business, Celestial Pavilion. Sure, he may have had spotty hours due to being a slave to his impulsive desires, but it was still a popular sight for tourists and Grecians living in Olympian alike! Plus, the limitation made him a hot sight for whenever he was open with people desperate to get their fortunes told. After all, his work was his life's passion, and helping others brought peace to his soul in ways that words could never describe properly... *Or at least that's what it said on his site.*\n\nToday was one of those spontaneous days, not due to his own inclination but because he had received an unexpected letter. The situation felt like it was a scene right out of Game of Thrones when the black crow pecked on his window with a scrolled papyrus tied to its leg. He knew exactly who sent it just by the bird alone, but the message itself was only one sentence. \n\n**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ ** \"𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚑, 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.\" \n\nEven with a few people waiting for their fortunes to be read, he didn't hesitate to shut down the shop early under the excuse of 'unexpected maintenance' before making his one worker, Althea, close everything down in his stead. There was only one popular church around and that was near the chapel, though it held devout Catholics which were the minority in the Hellenistic society they lived in. However, he was already confused as to why she wanted to meet him there of all places. Even he hadn't stepped foot into the church, let alone any church since maybe his mid-20s, and that occurrence was only because he had been seeing a pastor's son. Everything that came afterward would have made a Mother Mary statue shed bloody tears at the sight. \n_ _\n\nOpening its large carved doors, he expected a few people to be there but the church was empty instead. The sound of the door shutting echoes through the building and Orion could feel a shudder coming on, as if the place was trying to oust him out before he stepped in further. He walked between the rows and rows of seats, every end having a lit candle that danced as he passed, while his green irises looked side to side in search of the Goddess. \n\n\"Don't tell me she ditched me.\" He complained as he moved to the front where people usually made their offerings and prayers. As he looked up, the large statue stared down at him, as if it were doing it in judgment. In response, he gave a lazy bow before turning on his heel to walk towards the hallway that led to the confession box, though he had come across it by chance. Sins, it was an odd concept to think about, especially since he rarely ever thought anything he did was morally wrong. He brought himself to tap the metal of the box, his face comically close to where the 'opening' was as if he were able to peer inside, but in reality, he really couldn't make out anything." }, { "author": ".+@ H S C A T S +@", "message": "╭─── ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ─────────.𓂀..─╮\n\n╰─..𓃮.──────── ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ────╯\n\n───── ❝ 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 ❞ ─────\n\n`Title:` *I see all evil, I hear all evil, and I speak nothing, but evil.*\n`Settings:` *Catholic Church.*\n`Characters:` *Orion & Hecate.*\n`Notes:` *What you are about to read is all fiction!*\n\n•◦ೋ•◦❥•◦ೋ•◦ೋ•◦❥•◦ೋ•┈┄┄┅┉┉╯\n\n__An hour before the arrival of Orion.__\n\nIf anyone with a brain has been alive for the past century or so, Hecate is a controversial being amongst humans, specifically religious practitioners. Hecate is a revered being amongst Pagan and Wicca traditions. Many people outside of the practice due to rumors and unholy beliefs sees these practices as the devil's works. There are many different texts where Hecate is painted in a bad light or there are a few texts where Hecate was seen as the devil's wife. How disgusting . . . To think that a woman would need a __MAN__ to empower her.\n\nThe soft hymns to the messiah echoed through the halls of the chapel uplifting the holy atmosphere. Their harmonies were glorious and laced with rejoice for their one true king. Though such a harmony wouldn't last too long as it was disturbed by the foul creaking of the carved doors that lead to the sanctuary. The harmony didn't stop, but that didn't mean that it was still disturbed. Her heels clicking against the marble floor cut into their melodic rhythm. The Mistress of Magic walked down the aisle halfway before coming to a complete pause. Her hand slithered up from her thigh to hip where it held its position. Hecate's eyes of emerald scanned the surroundings gazing at the choir of souls before her very eyes. The Goddess of Witchcraft had a liking to music in fact, she could hold a tune herself. If not to be the Goddess of Witchcraft, she would have taken Apollo's moniker.\n\n—-•◦ೋ•◦❥•◦\n\nHecate's emerald eyes finally came to a full stop when he seen the statue of the man himself. Standing over her as if to place judgement over her, she scoffed softly. \"Don't look at me like that. You're the reason we are like this, just so you know.\" Hecate said as if the man was there himself and she turned on her heel in the opposing direction of him. Hecate made her way down the corridor to try and fit in, she thought it herself that the black leather she had on contrasted to the entire feel of the chapel. The Mistress of Magic came across the priest's quarters and a devious grin was casted on her face as she watched him pray.\n\nShe leaned against the door before crossing her arms to listen to his prayer. Hecate didn't want to interrupt his prayer as what she was about to do next was definitely not holy to say the least. Luckily, Hecate had all the time in the world to wait and she was a patient god unlike many. When the priest came to close on his prayer, she leaned from off the mahogany door. \"Amen.\" She said in unison with the priest as he turned around slowly to see who the visitor was. After the priest asked if there was anything that he could help her with, she simply nodded in agreement. \"Absolutely, but it requires you to be with your lord for a *Mere minute . . . Or two . . . Or an hour*.\" Hecate said as she walked towards him before she magically closed the door behind her.\n\n—-•◦ೋ•◦❥•◦\n\n__Currently.__\n\nAn hour or so had passed by before her lovely, wayward friend came in contact with her. Hecate was already present in the confession booth, her auburn hair covered the side of her face so whoever stepped into the confession booth wouldn't find her out too quickly. Hecate was dressed in the priest's clothing, but that only left the question as to where was the actual priest? The couple of people who did go however come to confess, she gave them a different kind for confession. She purposely made the booth she was inside dark as she enjoyed the darkness inside. When her wayward friend stepped into the booth, she simply turned her head to look at Orion. She slipped from the shadows and gripped onto the window locking her fingers in the holes of the window. \"**Boo!?**\" Hecate unaware if she would be able to scare him or not, she lit her booth up with a single snap to reveal her face and regalia. \"Took you long enough, god what took you so long? I sent Cosmo to you an hour ago. Guess you're the real gramps here huh?\" Hecate questioned as she turned in the confession booth completely to face him." }, { "author": "Orion", "message": "Ignoring the fact that the church was devoid of people, Orion stuck out like a sore thumb. He wore a long silk robe in bold red and black, adorned with intricate designs that billowed behind him as he moved. His tight-fitting shirt featured a deep V-neck, revealing his chest, while his fitted leather pants were tucked into boots. While it wasn't his *Everyday* Attire, it was what he wore to fit the part of an authentic fortune-teller so it was obvious where he had come from. \n\nHe would have never guessed that his curious lean towards the box would nearly be the reason why he almost ended up having a one-on-one meet-up with Thanatos. A startled, *\"Shhhhit!\"*, abruptly left him at her scare attempt, making the sunglasses perched at the top of his head completely fall off and hit the ground with a clack while he almost ended up falling back himself and his head hitting the top of the booth. A long, painful hiss left him as he came into a squat position with his hands at the top of his head, adding pressure to soothe the pain. The man, when unsuspecting, was easy to scare it seemed. \n\n\"What the *Fuck*, Granny?\" He exclaimed with what looked like tears in his eyes from the pain as he slowly rose from his crouched position to take a seat while his right hand continued to use its palm to rub where he injured himself. \"Some of us have businesses we run, I couldn't just leave it high and dry!\" Despite his words, he did leave it high and dry, with poor Sarah stuck with dealing with the disappointing customers. He looked at the booth, seeing her face finally, though his expression looked confused as his head tilted some to match it. \"You're a priest now? Huh, I figured you would burst into flames even stepping into a place like this. Do you feel the burn? Are the sins of all the witchy-voodoo catching onto you? *Ooooh.*\" He questioned as he wiggled his fingers her way. \n_ _\n\nAs the pain dulled, his hand dropped and he found himself crossing one leg over the other while his hands came to hold his calf. \"I haven't stepped into a church since Christmas of '02. And that was because my parents thought they could score free dinner. Though this place is...\" A low whistle left his lips as he looked around. \"A lot nicer than the dingy community Church in the middle of nowhere.\" His gaze fell back onto her, \"Why are we here?" } ]

[ { "author": "kenneth.greygullhaven", "message": "Who: Pothos and Elanor\nWhat: First Meeting of a Father and Daughter" }, { "author": "Pothos", "message": "Pothos glided through the crowded market, his steps light and graceful as if he were walking on air. His presence was immediately felt by those around him, as if a soft intoxicating breeze had swept through the bustling stalls and stands, causing everyone to pause and look up. The market was a vibrant mix of sights and sounds, a symphony of colors and aromas. The smell of fresh produce mingled with the smoke from grilling meats, while the calls of vendors and the chatter of customers created a lively buzz. Pothos took it all in, his senses heightened by the excitement and energy that was unique to Olympian, unique to being in the mortal world.\n\nHe had come to this market on a whim, curious to see the mortals in their element, to be among them without pretense and without the usual flare. As the god of love and longing, Pothos was used to the adoration and worship of the gods and the mortals alike. As he strolled through the market, Pothos couldn't help but notice the curious glances and lingering stares of the mortals and the demigods who were out and about that afternoon. They were drawn to him as usual, his ethereal beauty and divine aura impossible to ignore. Men and women alike turned their heads to catch a glimpse of him, some even stopping in their tracks to watch him pass. But Pothos paid them no mind for the time being, trying to keep his focus on the market and its offerings, keen on a little personal time for a change. He meandered through the aisles, admiring the vibrant array of fruits, vegetables, and spices. He plucked a ripe pomegranate from a nearby stand, its ruby red skin glistening in the sunlight. He took a bite, relishing in the burst of tangy sweetness on his tongue.\n\nAs he walked, a few brave or maybe desperate, souls would approach him or speak belief, flirting with the love god. As always Pothos would smile and take a moment to speak, usually simply leaving them with a kind word and a wink- knowing that lingering too long had its risks and how easy it would be to end up with a schedule filled to overflowing if he allowed every mortal or dirty who felt that pull have what they desired from him. With a final smile, Pothos continued on his way, leaving both men and women swooning in his wake. He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction, knowing that his mere presence had caused such a stir.\n\nAs he wandered, Pothos came across a stall selling beautifully crafted jewelry. The ornate pieces dazzled in the sunlight, catching his eye immediately. He approached the stall and began examining the delicate necklaces and bracelets, admiring the intricate designs. After a quick talk with the craftsman who ran the stall, Pothos was walking on with a new bracelet and a new ring adorning his body. Pothos couldn't help but notice one thing as he went on- the couples who walked hand in hand, stealing kisses and exchanging loving glances. He watched them with a mixture of admiration and envy, longing for a love of his own. But Pothos knew that his love belonged to all the mortals and the divine and not himself. It belonged to the ones who yearned and pined for each other with such intensity. He revelled in their longing, knowing that it was his divine touch that could also ignite such flames of desire in their hearts.\n\nThe irony was not lost on him. For the god of love, longing, and desire, and for all the escapades he had been on, he himself could count on one hand, with fingers left over, how many people he could say he truly loved. Such was his fate and he had long accepted such, so with those thoughts pushed to the back of his mind, Pothos continued through the market, stopping at a stall with fine silk robes and other flashy clothing. He was here to have fun and to pamper himself - and that was what he was determined to do.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Eleanor Davies", "message": "After a week of searching the bustling streets and busy establishments around Olympus, Eleanor found herself taking a scroll around a whimsical market filled with plenty of demigods and humans to her liking. The light breeze paired with a perfectly sunny day brushed against the flowy dress clinging to her body, matching as much grace as the delicate footsteps beneath her. The brunette was enveloped by the enticing aromas of fresh bread and roasting meats. The scent of spices and herbs wafted from the nearby vendor stalls, mingling with the earthy smell of olives and fresh produce. The sounds of clanging pots and pans, laughter and haggling, filled the air as she wove through the crowds of people. \n\nHer long, wavy hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, and her soft green eyes sparkled as she smiled at the vendors and shoppers around her. She wore a dashing black dress, cinched at the waist with a golden belt that glinted in the sunlight, and her very presence seemed to draw people to her like a magnet. As she walked, Eleanor's eyes feasted on the dazzling array of jewelry on display. She admired the intricate designs on the silver necklaces, the sparkling gemstones that seemed to dance in the light, and the delicate filigree adorning the gold earrings. Her fingers trailed over the smooth surface of a polished marble statue, leaving behind a faint trail of dust. The people around her couldn't help but be captivated by Eleanor's beauty and alluring presence. Men and women, their eyes gleaming with admiration, watched her pass by, their muscles rippling beneath their skin as they turned to follow her with their eyes. A young mortal woman, her eyes shining with adoration, leaned against a nearby stall, gazing at Eleanor with a mixture of longing and desire.\n\nEverywhere she went, Eleanor seemed to leave behind a trail of admiration and respect. She was a shining star in the midst of the lively market, drawing people to her like moths to a flame. Despite loving the usual attention she got and the brief enchanting encounters she had, Eleanor had a particular reason for wanting to visit the market. While she did enjoy a glamorous day out shopping and meeting people of all kinds, this enchantress had other objectives in mind. Over the past week, Eleanor had searched and asked for a god; Pothos. The divine being who was said to be her father, was a mystery to her and it only continued as the search for him dragged on with each passing day. \n\nEleanor eventually stumbled over to a stall full of clothing and attire that certainly caught her eye. Upon taking in the fine array of such luxury, her eyes wandered over to a figure and a quite alluring one at that. Unsure why, Eleanor found herself floating over a few spaces beside him, her gaze falling down to the fabric in his hands. Glancing over at him, she examined for what could be considered 'amazing' tattoos that were supposed to be one giveaway that she might have found whom she had been searching all over for. Deciding not to stare for too long without speaking, she trailed back to his features before finally parting her lips to speak. \"What do we think, yin or yang?\" Eleanor asked with a nodding gesture towards two versions of the same blouse.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Pothos", "message": "The market pulsed with life, a testament to the city's diversity and the communal spirit that thrives within its boundaries, bringing so many diverse and disconnected lived together into one place. An elderly couple at the store next to them selected ripe tomatoes with practiced hands, sharing stories with the vendor who has known them for years. A group of friends huddled around a stand a little ways down the way selling vintage records, their laughter ringing out as they reminisce over their favorite songs. Young couples wandered past where they were standing, hand in hand, making even the god of love and longing watch them for a moment as they passed by in their love-dazed state. Here, each interaction wove a story of connection and shared moments among strangers.\n\nPothos turned his head to the side, his small smile growing into a grin as he caught sight of the origin of the voice that had called out to. As he turned to fully face her, he couldn't help but be drawn in by her appearance - the smooth flow of her hair, the fairness of her skin, and the piercing gaze of her captivating eyes. He tilted his head slightly, considering her question with intense focus. His gaze moved from one shirt to the other, finally settling on the darker shade, a subtle hint of intrigue in his expression.\n\nWith a confident nod, he declared, \"Definitely Yin.\" His eyes danced with admiration as he continued, \"Darker tones would accentuate the mesmerizing color of your eyes.\" As the warm sun beat down upon them, Pothos casually pushed up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt. In doing so, he revealed more of his captivating tattoos that snaked up from his hands and wrapped around his arms like vines. They disappeared under the fabric of his shirt, only to peek out again at the unbuttoned collar. Each design was a stark line of swirling ink that seemed to dance over the skin and rippling muscles as he moved, adding to the mysterious allure of the man standing before her just then.\n\n\"The contrast would make them pop as if they were a beacon in the night,\" He continued before giving her a charming wink. He then turned for a moment and gestured to the stall owner, a rotund man with a bushy mustache that twirled at the ends. \"My good man, could you please get the lady here two of each and put it on my tab please? I have a feeling she'll make good use of them.\" He said jokingly, before turning back to her, an easy smile on his lips. \"I don't think you'll regret it.\" He added as an afterthought.\n\nShoppers meandered through the stalls and streets all around them as they stood there, their conversations blending into a symphony of voices, creating a lively backdrop to the seemingly random encounter unfolding at that moment. The scent seemed to build as savory, sweet and spicy smells all combined into an inviting cacophony, inviting all in the area to sample the diverse offerings available. Children tugged at their parents' hands, eager to explore the toy stands or run and play with stray dogs looking for a handout, while artisans proudly display handcrafted wares. The market is a lively tapestry of human interaction, where every corner holds the promise of a new discovery.\n\nIn one corner, a street musician strummed a guitar, adding a melodic undercurrent to the market's hum as people stopped to watch, some clapping and some singing along to the familiar tune. Nearby, the sizzle of food stalls cooking up local delicacies tempts passersby with promises of savory and sweet delights. Freshly squeezed juice vendors offer a refreshing respite from the warm sun, their vibrant concoctions adding pops of color to the scene. The market as usual was a lively tapestry of human interaction, where every corner holds the promise of a new discovery.\n\nThis was what kept Pothos coming back, the simple thrill and pleasures of being among people, diving and mortal alike, forgetting as much as he ever could what his lot in life seemed to be- the one who always seemed to draw people to him, destined to be alone and ultimately forgotten by most.\n\n\"I'm Po, by the way. And you are?\" He extended his hand in a friendly greeting, hoping to learn more about the captivating stranger before him. \"You come here to the market often?\"\n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": "grapes98", "message": "A record store located within the heart of Apollo's Arts District. It's full of eclectic records from every corner of the globe. Many come to Musagetes to search for something particularly rare or limited edition." }, { "author": "Laci Rodriguez - Demigod", "message": "For the past few days all Laci wanted was to sleep but it eluded her. Nightmares? She wished. Nightmares would have been a pleasant change of pace instead of the \"Karen\" Ghost that decided to latch onto her. Ever since Melinoe's champion had come across her to aid some restless spirits in another city, the woman had not let Laci go and kept ranting over and over about everything and everyone they walked by - there was something for the ghost to criticize no matter how small! \n\nAt night it usually shifted towards the poor young woman who could see her. \"You breathe loudly. You shouldn't sleep on your side like that. Cats shouldn't sleep in the bed.\" Blah blah blah blah. It was driving Laci insane! Normally she never had her music loud enough to blast the brain out of her skull but with this pestering ghost she had no choice. \n\nWhy not help her move on? Oh... Laci tried. How she had tried but the woman had no one. Of course she didn't! She drove everyone away and she was quite content in not making amends. The only reason she was a lost soul was clearly so she could be a ranting spy over all the things she disagreed with. And the politics! Oh when the ghost went on about politics sweet Laci just wanted to pull out her own hair! She did not care! She just wanted to live her life as best she could and let other people do their own thing! Was that so hard to grasp? To understand? \n-\n\nThe ghost only got worse the more Laci denied relaying to random people what she thought they should or shouldn't be doing. This moment in the music store was just one of many examples. \n\nThe artificial (but still gorgeous) redhead went to her favorite music shop to get some new tunes, something to drown out the Karen Ghost or better yet, be so horrid to her ghostly ears that she had no choice but to leave Laci alone! Vinyl after vinyl she looked for that very something. Alas, the ghost ranted louder and louder until even her headphones and music could not block out the woman's discontent shrieks! \n\nLow on sleep that no amount of coffee in the world could fix she lost it. **\"CALLA TE** She screamed out turning violently to where the ghost was. To anyone else in the store it would look like she was crazy. Fortunately the store owner knew Laci well enough to know it wasn't the case. It was rare to see her so riled up and the owner wished he had popcorn with him because it was always an interesting show with Laci snapped at a ghost. Sometimes it was easy to forget that she had latina spiciness when she was generally quite sweet of a person. \n-\n\nHer hands flailed as she went on spanish slipping with ease from her lips listing all the things she was never going to say like telling gays they shouldnt be gay or that races shouldnt mix and other idiotic bullshit that Laci really did not care for. The end result was something along the lines of \"I don't care. They living their live I am living mine. You are dead so move on already!\" \n\nShe gasped exhausted at her rant but she blinked, the Karen ghost huffed and vanished. Had she moved on? Laci doubted it but at least for now she had some peace." }, { "author": "Zosar Mahmoud", "message": "————————————-\n**Tag:** \n**Mention:** \n**Song:**\n\n————————————-\n*From the deepest, darkest recesses of his troubled mind, the familiar song had emerged without rhyme or reason, in the middle of the night. An earworm, not quite remembered in its entirety, yet intimate; comforting. Zosar had awoken long before the crack of dawn, plagued by an ache that only the distant memories of his childhood seemed to quell. This morning, in particular, he'd recalled a specific tune his mother used to play on repeat during the summer months. When the temperatures readily soared past a hundred degrees in his hometown, and the sun did not set until the child himself had been tucked into bed. Perhaps, it was the yearning of his innocence since lost, for a pair of loving arms to be wrapped around him tightly, coddled in a C minor's melancholic embrace once more. It had been quite some time since he'd had the ability to think about his mother, though lately, his thoughts wandered far more frequently. Back to Wesam. To Luxor. To the music he'd grown up hearing everyday.*\n\n*The Demi-god, fuelled solely by his desire to piece the fragments of his recollection back together, made his way through Apollo's art district. Hands in his pockets, swagger in his step, Zosar repetitively hummed a sample of the intro, remembering the singer responding to the chords played on the piano at first, with a wordless, vocalised melody. A hauntingly beautiful beginning that seemed to end suddenly with the finality of the closing cadence. And yet, in the very next second, an ensemble picked up the melody in an up-beat tempo, hallmarking the actual start of the song.*\n\n-\n*Arriving at Musagetes Emporium, the son of Zelus used one hand to push open the door, entering and curtly nodding to the owner as he marched past the counter. He knew the woman quite well, as most music lovers in Olympian did, so he figured she wouldn't be offended by the lack of discourse shared between them. Zosar paid no attention to the other customers, and beelined straight to the back where he presumed to find a shelf dedicated to classics from around the world. With a gentle sigh, he began sorting through the astonishing amount of records, searching for anything with the words \"Alby we Moftaho\" On it. While the man wasn't sure of the artist, he believed he recalled the name of the song now: \"My heart and its key\".*\n\n*As he flicked through the collection with an almost devastating speed, Zosar tried to focus on his objective, though right as he seemed to get into the swing of things; he was interrupted. Hilariously, by some woman yelling for quiet. The Champion assumed it was a mother attempting to wrangle her unruly children, though Spanish wasn't exactly a common language used around these parts. Glancing over his shoulder in the general direction of the yeller, Zosar frowned when he noticed a short, red-headed woman, speaking to literally thin air! If he himself wasn't frolicking about in the lands of Gods and Monsters, then he'd presume she was having some sort of psychotic break, but the Demi-god knew another one of the chosen few when he saw them. As he continued to stare at her from across the room, it slowly began to dawn on Zosar that he knew who this woman was.*\n\n-\n*Immediately, his gaze darted back down to the box of records in front of him, as his body grew rigid with the realisation. Rumours had long been whispered about the Champion of Melinoe being another one of Zelus' unclaimed children. While generally, Zosar remained unaffected by the idle chit-chat that circulated the various realms, this spicy tidbit impacted him directly. Despite trying to return his mind back to its original train of thought, a sudden rumble of thunder in the distance forced the man to stop what he was doing before he accidentally summoned a tornado outside.*\n\n*Without looking, Zosar selected a random record from the pile and made his way towards the register. Placing it down, the Champion did not wait for the price to be verbalised, and instead placed a couple of notes down in an effort to get out of the store quicker. Like a paranoid criminal, the Demi-god kept looking over his shoulder, his dark gaze following the red-heads movement, trying to escape before she had a chance to notice him.*\n\n** \"Oh, what an excellent choice! I simply adore the works of Fared al-Atrash. Such an iconic performer, a mid-century staple, I have heard, in most middle eastern households. A terrible pity about his beautiful sister thou-\"**\n\n***\"-WHAT?\"***\n\n*The sudden mention of the 'S' word caught Zeus' champion completely off-guard, and for a brief second, Zosar seemed genuinely distressed, his hands curling distinctively into fists on the countertop. His reaction was unnerving enough that the owner of the store recoiled in response, her brows furrowing as she sought to clarify whatever misunderstanding the customer had obviously taken out of context.*\n\n-\n**\"A-Asmahan, h-his sister,\"** *The woman exclaimed with a stutter,* **\"Fared al-Atrash's sister. Sh-she died when she was only 31.\"**\n\n*Initially, it was like the words were being spoken in a completely different language to those Zosar understood, yet slowly, the man seemed to return to his senses. A subtle rouging of his cheeks dignified his embarrassment, as the Champion realised the owner had been talking about the artist of the record he'd just purchased on a whim.*\n\n** \"Oh,\"** *He muttered, as his hazel gaze dropped to the floor,* **\"Right. Ah-...Well, um... Tha-thank you... And erm... Sorry.\"**\n\n*Zosar finally managed to spit out his half-hearted apology, before picking up the vinyl in his hand and ambling over to the door with his confidence now in tatters. Just as he was about to leave the store, however, Zosar noticed something on the backside of the record cover: a song list. His jaw nearly hit the floor when he spotted it. Track number four, the words printed clearly, as plain as day in Arabic, 'Alby We Moftaho'. Dumbfounded, the demi-god stood entirely still, trying to comprehend if he'd been blessed by Tyche without warning or if... The Egyptian turned to look at the girl with the red hair again. He'd never been one for signs, for messages from the 'beyond', yet Zosar couldn't help but shake the feeling, this was his mother's doing. Somehow.*\n\n*Pressing his lips together, the demi-god decided to throw caution to the wind, and approach his rumoured half-sister, still not entirely sure how he was meant to start any sort of conversation with her. Though as he drew closer, it seemed the woman was slightly preoccupied anyway, yelling at literally nothing once more. Raising a brow, the Egyptian cleared his throat, before offering a sheepish smile, genuinely trying not to startle the Champion of Melinoe.*\n\n** \"Is the silence normally this aggravating? Because you're talking to it like you know her well.\"**" }, { "author": "Laci Rodriguez - Demigod", "message": "She should have known she was causing a scene but the poor lass was so fed up with that ghost she lost all care in the world for appearances. Huffing with relief Laci relaxed... A mistake she soon regretted as a male voice suddenly approached out of no where. **\"Dios mio!?\"** Clasping her hand in front of her chest as she gasped with fright, a sight worthy of a proper telenovela scene, she turned wide eyes towards the other demigod. \n\nAt first her mind thought he was just another ghost, her tired mind taking a hot minute to process not only what he was but what he said as well. Her cheeks flushed with color, saturating with red pink hues putting her embarassment out there on full display. **\"Pardoname... Uh...\"** Having vented in Spanish her English drive was done. **\"I... Sorry...\"** \n\nShe fidgeted nervously trying to keep her hands held together in front of her waist so she wasn't flailing them around. It was bad enough she did so talking normally, she was so much worse when flustered and trying to think of words, her hands wanting to play out a game of charades. Usually it did anything but help. \n\n **\"Silencio... Silence be nice... Not silence. No people silence.\"** She somewhat managed to pop out with even more broken and accentuated english due to her embarassment. **\"I not... I not crazy!\"** She added quickly assuming he was going to get there. Laci hadn't yet picked up on what and who he was. Not that demigods couldn't be crazy like humans..." }, { "author": "Zosar Mahmoud", "message": "——————————\n**Tag:** \n**Song:**\n\n——————————\n\n*For a woman practically swearing that she wasn't crazy, her prior behaviour left plenty of room for convincing. Zosar immediately took a step backwards, giving the red-head enough space to collect her thoughts and words, the latter of which spilled out in a nonsensical pattern, barely resembling broken English at all. Like an idiosyncratic puzzle, the Demi-god managed to piece together key parts of her ramblings to formulate a sentence he could respond to. Without any prior context, it was possible the Egyptian could have simply abandoned the conversation altogether, though the lurking possibility that he was currently conversing with his half-sister kept the half-mortal from fleeing. That, and the inescapable fact that, as the Champion of Zeus himself, Zosar was supposed to tackle every challenge head on. Unlike the majority of his physical confrontations that could be swiftly dealt with by a lightning bolt to the skull, this exchange required a far more tender touch.*\n\n** \"I'll let you in on a little secret,\"** *The Demi-god began, as he casually leaned his towering figure against the wall,* ** \"If you stopped talking to nothing, you may actually have a chance of convincing us all yet.\"**\n\n*His lips tugged upwards into a crooked grin, as his right hand was presented to the stranger before him.* ** \"Pleasure to meet you, Not Crazy. I'm Zosar, Zosar Mahmoud.\"**\n\n*It was a stupid joke, but the red-head was so flustered that a touch of dumb humour would surely lighten the situation somewhat. Of course, the kindness the Egyptian had shown surprised even himself. He had no reason to be gentile, especially not to a woman who was championed by a sideliner of the Great War. Yet, perhaps the rumours about her parentage made up for their pathetic inaction when Poseidon's forces came a'knockin. Exhaling softly, the lean mass turned to face the selection of records the stranger had been browsing through before her partial breakdown caught his attention.*\n\n-\n\n** \"So, you're attempting to drown them out... With...\"** *Zosar's brows knitted together as he proceeded to pull out a particular vinyl that had clearly been accidentally returned to the wrong section of the store. With a deadpan expression, Zeus' champion held the record up.* ** \"Enya's 1988 masterpiece: Watermark?\"**" }, { "author": "Laci Rodriguez - Demigod", "message": "The embarassment! \n\nZosar had to make it worse by \"Letting her in on a little secret\" Which by the time he gave it to her her face was perhaps just as red as her hair! The poor young woman was left speechless, unable to think of a good reply in english. Oh if only this were spanish she then would have plenty of witty words to give him! Fortunately for her unknown half brother, he would be able to come off on \"Top\" In this scenario. \n\nJust as she finally was about to say something in return, lips parting to speak he introduced himself and called her \"Not crazy\" As if it were her name. Her brain acted a bit on impulse in a childlike stubborn way. **\"That not my name!\"** She huffed face still saturated with dark red hues. **\"La... Laci Rodriguez.\"** There he now had her real name. She couldn't have him going around going Not Crazy here and there. **\"Oh...!\"** She almost forgot to shake his hand. Taking it a bit quicker than she should have she give him a quick somewhat tight shake before letting go. AT least she didn't seem too offended, hopefully he'd notice that she was more flustered than anything. There was a warmness to her eyes, a possible understanding to the amusement of the situation just, she was too tired to truly appreciate it as she could have were circumstances different. \n\nFor a moment an awkward silence feel between the two before he grabbed the recond and began to observe what she had picked. Laci tilted her head a little confused. **\"Enya?\"** She grabbed the record and looked at the cover. It did not look like a metal band. Why had she grabbed this? Why was it even there? **\"I've never heard of Enya.\"** Yes, for purely amusement purpose by the rper Laci has never heard Sail Away. **\"Is it good?\"** Sure she was going for metal but reality was, she could potentially listen to anything depending on her mood." } ]

[ { "author": "Nerissa Beaumont", "message": "***The sun settled along the horizon, casting out hues of pink, orange, and purple across the sky as it lowered. It was turning into the late evening, and Nerissa had only just arrived at home. She spent all day filming for Mythos High, the hit tv show she starred in alongside her sister Talassa. The hours were long and grueling, so much to memorize and do before the deadlines. She closed the door to her apartment, locking it behind her. Her two dogs came barging into the living room, nearly tackling her down due to their happiness of seeing her. Smiling brightly, she gave them both some pets before setting her purse and keys down onto a nearby chair she kept by the door. She pulled out her phone, opening it up and scrolling through her contacts. A fond smile spreading across her lips as she opened up her messages with her best friend, Malachai. Her fingers moved fast as they typed up a message to him, asking if he would like to come over and watch a movie with her. She sent the message while walking to her kitchen, setting her phone down on the counter.***\n\n~\n\n***As if he had agreed, Nerissa began to prepare herself for the night. She hadn't eaten yet, but felt she may skip dinner tonight. She hardly had food in her fridge anyways, the demands of her work kept her from any grocery shopping lately. She did however have food for her dogs, and so she pulled out their slow feeder bowls and began to fill them. Putting in their kibble, and various other things she used such as broth and some meat for them. They were meant to be her guard dogs, but she pampered them a bit too much. They were spoiled in every sense of the word. She set their food bowls down, filling up their waters and setting them down as well. With her pups eating happily, she swiftly grabbed her phone and made her way up to her bed. Her apartment was of interesting design, but she loved it all the same. In the middle of the ceiling, it opened to reveal the second floor where her bedroom and full bathroom was. Uniquely designed, yet gorgeous in her eyes. She climbed the steps up to the small second floor, immediately walking over to her large closet. She pulled out the clothes she wished to wear, and left to her bathroom.***\n\n~\n\n***Knowing Malachai, he wouldn't take too long to arrive. She felt almost giddy whilst she showered and did her usual nightly routine. Her stomach was a bundle of nerves at the thought of seeing him. A usual feeling she got whenever she was in his presence. She always felt a need to look her best in his presence, it didn't matter what they did she just needed to. Nerissa thought back to their first meeting, he had seen her on Instagram and shot her a message with his phone number. They met at his studio days later, and from there it all blossomed. To her, they clicked instantly upon their first meeting. She never felt the desire to know someone until she met him, and so she continued to meet with him. Talking about anything and everything, growing closer as time went on. Leading them to the very present, close with... Some complications. Neri was never good with feelings, and the way he made her feel terrified her. The way she cares so much terrifies her. Shaking herself of her little reverie, she returned to the present. Standing before her bathroom mirror, she did her usual skin care and hair care routine. Ending with her bare of makeup and hair dried, left in its natural wavy state.***\n\n~\n\n***Nerissa threw on a soft, cream sweater with matching shorts. She clipped her now dried hair up, and slipped on a pair of her favorite slippers. Which... So happened to be bunny slippers. Around her neck she wore a dainty pendant necklace, something given to her as a gift from her sister. The young actress walked back into her closet, looking at herself in the full length mirror she kept. Beautiful, her sister would say anyways. She didn't think of herself as such. Dark circles hidden by her makeup sat exposed underneath her eyes, making her face appear a bit more dull. She hadn't slept in over 24 hours, the pills she took having kept her up so she could focus on her script reading. She struggled often under the pressure, and they helped her focus and retain all she needed to. She wouldn't have to take them tonight... Giving her time to finally sleep. It didn't affect her much anymore, she had grown used to not sleeping for a day or so at a time. And when she didn't need the pills, she would use other things to help her relax. It was a functioning system for her that worked, and she didn't plan on quitting too soon.***\n\n~\n\n***She walked out of her closet and checked her cell phone, trying to see if he sent any confirmation he was coming over. When she saw he did, she smiled to herself and made her way back down the stairs. Her living room wasn't too large, with a cream colored couch made of a soft, sherpa material and a large chair right by it with a ottoman. In front of the couch sat her large, flatscreen Tv mounted onto the wall. She had many decorative pillows on her couch, along with two soft blankets and... One of Malachai's hoodies she stole from him. Her two dogs, Sunny and Stormy, laid on the very large chair together. Nerissa would go to unlock the door for Malachai, then took a seat on her couch. As she waited, she would get her TV turned on and scroll through her cell phone.***" }, { "author": "Malachai", "message": "\"Hey, man we'll catch you later.\" Dez smacked Elliott's hand before pulling him in for a hug and patting him on the back as Malachai felt the buzz in his back pocket. It had been just the three of them left at the studio trying to iron out the last chorus of the song Pandemonium that was supposed to be releasing the following Friday. What was supposed to be an hour had turned into three and now it was half past eight. Malachai couldn't say it was the latest he had stayed in the studio, sometimes spending the night in hopes to not go home just to be alone. But lately his mind had been less focused on just music. \n\nMalachai pulled his phone from his pocket and smiled as he saw Neri's name in the notification. He quickly slid the notification to the right to send a quick reply confirming the plans for tonight and then quickly opening his Uber eats app. He knew better than to show up to her apartment without food, the girl who loved to snack rarely had food in her kitchen. Surviving on gummy worms and chocolate pretzels alone on nights when Malachai didn't come to her rescue. \n\n\"Man, when are you going to tell her?\" Nez grabbed Malachai's shoulders and squeezed his triceps pulling. Malachai rolled his shoulders, trying to get him to let go without actually putting any effort in. \n\n\"Tell who what?\" He said, finally slipping his phone into his pocket after confirming the order and looking at Dez who's curly hair had somehow become messier than it normally was.\n\n\"Don't start that ish with me, Mal. The girl who's texts make you smile like a bafoon? The one who you drop everything for despite your \"Friend\" Status? You can't tell me y'all are only friends, that's bs.\" Dez talked with his hands, counting every finger along with each point as he walked backwards. The guitarist was skilled in more than just his musical talents and good looks, his background in sports taking a forefront in his day to day life. Mal didn't know how to respond, while Dez was right he was also not one to talk; having had a crush on Viv for a year and a half now. \n\n\"We're only friends.\" He smiled at his simple response, knowing he was avoiding admitting the truth even to his childhood best friend. \"If she ever wants to be more, I'm here. But at this point I'm just happy to be part of her life.\" Malachai laughed as Dez rolled his eyes. \n\n\"Whatever man, I'll see you tomorrow.\" Dez shot up his fingers in a wave goodbye before walking towards the beat up old black utility van. They lived together but Malachai was known for either sleeping over at Neris or showing up at 4 in the morning about to fall over from exhaustion. \n\nMalachai walked to his own car, a blue BMW E30 Cabriolet, and hopped in. Quickly speeding off to go get the take out and head to Neris as fast as possible.\n\n✰ ✰ ✰\nThe food had come out in perfect timing, aligning his arrival at Neris only fifteen minutes later. He got out of his car, careful to grab the take out and hand the keys to the valet. Malachai let go of the bottom of the food to salute the valet before walking inside and getting in the elevator to get up to her floor. The apartment was beautiful, the security intimidating, especially the first time he had arrived. But now the staff knew him by name, welcoming him through without so much as a hello. \n\nWhen he got into the elevator Victor pressed the button, pushing the key into the allotted slot for the pent house suite. \n\n\"Thanks V,\" Victor just nodded at Mal's thanks, his face unchanging. Victor was the one employee he had just yet to get to like him. A vice that irked him every single day, but Mal still tried. \n\nWhen the elevator chimed, Malachai stepped off the elevator. He said goodbye to Victor. Walked to her door and lightly knocked on it. Careful not to spook her or her dogs, despite her knowing she was coming. \n\nHe looked down at himself before she answered the door, just now realizing he was in the same maroon shirt and dark wash jeans that he had on during practice. They hadn't been up to their normal practice gimmicks but he still could have freshened up even just a little remembering the cologne he had bought the other day in his car. Malachai banged his head against the door in frustration. His hands were full, he smelled like.. Well, himself and his hair was in his eyes with no way of moving it. He looked and felt like a goof." }, { "author": "Nerissa Beaumont", "message": "***Nerissa's dogs heard the light rapping on her door, perking up from their seats and barking. Smiling widely, Neri stood from the couch and quickly walked to the door. Opening it and stepping aside for Malachai to enter. Once he did, she would close and lock the door. Her two dogs running right for him, jumping up at his sides in excitement. The smell of the food he brought wafted to her nose, making her stomach rumble loudly in response. Sheepishly smiling, she stood on her tip toes and engulfed him into a hug. She could smell his addictive cologne... Or maybe that wasn't it, still it was something that always made her head feel lighter. She soon stepped away from the hug, looking up at him with a wide smile. Her dogs now settled down and watching his every move.*** \n\n~\n\n\"Hey Mal, you would think after all the times you have come by they would be less and less excited to see you. And I see you brought take out... You know I will never ask you to bring food over right? Even when my fridge looks as sad as ever.\" ***She said with a small laugh.*** \"What is it today that you brought? Oh and before I forget I have the T.V all set up and your snacks are waiting for you on the couch.\"\n\n~\n\n***Nerissa grabbed his free hand, tugging him over to her couch. She sat back into her seat, her dogs sitting on their chair again and relaxing down. In true fashion, she had one of her many candles burning on the side table where she sat. The room smelling of vanilla and raspberry, her favorite scent to have in her own home. She grabbed the remote, looking over at Malachai. Her eyes discreetly giving him a once over. Her bestest friend in the world... And yet she felt more for him. Constantly feeling a pull to be by his side whenever she could, an attraction so strong she struggled to deny it at times. But she had to... He saw her as his best friend, and nothing more than that.*** \n\n~\n\n***There were many times in the past where she believed he felt the same, when she wanted to say something but chose not to. She could recall this one time they were together, sitting in his trailer and blasting music that they could sing together. His voice and hers meshing in perfect harmony, complementing one another. They also had drank some, and Neri remembered being a bit buzzed. They had finished yet another song, and were sitting so close to one another. She could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. He looked at her... Differently, though that could have been just her own imagination. However, she remembered how he was looking at her. Like she was the only woman in his world... And she gave him somewhat of a similar look. It was when his eyes met hers, she wanted to tell him everything. But they continued their night like usual, and she remained silent. Nerissa shook herself out of her reverie, nudging her head to the T.V.***\n\n~\n\n\"So Mal, what do we feel like watching tonight? Are we thinking comedy, romance, action, crime, or god forbid... Horror?\" ***She asked him. Oh she hoped he wouldn't pick horror, though she could watch those kinds of movies she was far from a big fan of them.*** Oh... I forgot to ask, but how was practice today? Did it go well? And how are your very lovely bandmates?\"" }, { "author": "Malachai", "message": "Malachai smiled as soon as Neri opened the door and ushered him inside. The dogs quickly jumping on him in excitement. He chuckled as he scooted forward trying not to step on them. \n\n\"Okay, okay. I'll give you lovings in a moment. Chill. Chill.\" He held the food above his head to keep them from the dogs right as Neri stepped around them and engulfed him in a hug. The sweet smell of her hair hit his nose as her form fell against his. He let go of the bag, hoping it wouldn't break, so that he could wrap at least one arm around her before she could let go. Neri pulled back and looked up at him, a beautiful smile creating her lips. Mal couldn't help but smile back.\n\nHe loved coming over to her apartment. The smells, the dogs, but most of all for Neri. He laughed as she began to talk at a mile a minute and pulled him into the living room. \n\n\"I brought food because you don't feed yourself *And* I was also starving. You just got the benefits of my starvation.\" He sat the take out on the coffee table and sat down next to her. \"I brought Yomatos. Sushi, kebabs, fried rice and kung pow chicken.\" \n\nHe watched as Neri grabbed the remote and glanced at him, but as soon as her eyes left him he wished for them back. A small piece of her hair was attached to an eyelash and he fought the urge to move it for her, remembering the first time he had touched her and the look she gave him. \n\nThe past between them had always been fickle. A dm turning into what Mal at the time had assumed was a date. The night at the studio was amazing. Staying up until three just talking and singing together. It was the first time he had truly heard her voice, the beautiful melodic sound made him wonder why she was in acting instead of singing. But at the end of the night, Malachai had accidentally sprayed cheese wiz on her face. His efforts to clean it off quickly being shut down by her instance to do it herself. \n\nNow looking at her he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and never let go\n\nBut he had been friend zoned. Pushed into the trenches to watch as other men walked into her life with efforts to woo her and succeeding where he could not. Malachai snapped out of his daze as she began to ramble again. \n\n\"What are you feeling? I am down for whatever as I am just here to see you.\" He smiled at her before opening the bag and taking out the fast food, positioning it in a way that they could easily share. \"And this food. I swear my mouth is watering just looking at it.\" He grabbed a piece of sushi and popped it in his mouth right as she asked another question. \n\n\"It went good,\" He said quickly swallowing his food. \"Dez was able to figure out the sound of the second chorus and the words tumbled out so easily after that. What about you, how was filming?\"" }, { "author": "Nerissa Beaumont", "message": "***Nerissa rolled her eyes a bit, but she was secretly happy he had brought food over. The young actress didn't have the best living habits, not that he knew much of them anyways. She kept snacks more than regular food, as she got the munchies quite often considering her little problem. She was thankful he didn't comment on how she looked, she tried her best to brighten up the dullness in her face.*** \n\n~\n\n\"You are too nice to bring me some food too, thank you Mal. It smells so delicious, gods I love Yomatos. I call dibs on like one of everything. Ahh... I should've thought of drinks before I sat down. Do you want anything? I have water, some soda... And some alcohol if you want.\" ***She offered him.***\n\n~\n\n***There was a great comfort that seemed to wash over her whenever he came by. He brought a warmth into her home that she never would have thought was missing. Now, she seemed to crave it. Neri became happier whenever Mal came by, and a bit saddened when he had to leave.*** \n\n~\n\n***It was complicated for her. He had DMed her on instagram, she spent time with him in the studio singing and laughing. She slightly smiled when she remembered he had accidentally sprayed the cheese on her face. That was a moment she knew she wanted him around more. Yet the more time she spent with him, something began to blossom. Even despite their arguments, they always made up and she felt all the same.*** \n\n~\n\n***Nerissa wanted more than this friendship they had going on. She wanted to be with him always, to spend nights with him and to be held by him. To go on dates where they can laugh and have fun together. She wanted him, and she wanted Mal to want her. But he had his flings, and she decided to try and have some of her own to ease the pain of it. She couldn't admit what she felt, not when it would damage their friendship because he didn't feel the same. She knew he didn't.*** \n\n~\n\n***She looked over at him now, watching as he pulled out all of the food. Did he ever see it? Could he se\n\nE the longing in her eyes? The burning desire she had to pull him closer to her right now? Silly thoughts, but she couldn't help her own curiosity. It often bothered her that he may see all of this, and still keep her in the friendzone.*** \n\n~\n\n\"You all work so well together in all honestly, especially when you guys get into little ruts like that. I am excited to hear it when its ready.\" ***She took a sushi roll herself, pausing for a moment.*** Filming is the same as always, long and dreadful at times. Today the director was in a pissy mood because one of the costume orders that came in was entirely wrong. ***She rolled her eyes.*** \"It is an easy fix, but it left him sour all day long.\" \n\n~\n\n***She popped the sushi roll into her mouth, sighing at the burst of flavor in her mouth. She chewed quickly, swallowing the remnants of it before continuing to speak.*** \"Hmmmm... How do you feel about watching Tangled? You know I love my Disney movies\" ***She grins cheekily.***" }, { "author": "Malachai", "message": "Her bright smile always made him wonder how she could ever frown. The pure joy in her face as she laid eyes on the food and then up at him was something he wished he could forever see. Despite the exhaustion he could see in her eyes and her shoulders she was breathtaking. There was a reason she was popular with film and mainstream media. But what they would never know is how her beauty was nowhere as beautiful as her personality. \n\nMalachai stood up and waved a hand at her as he began to walk to the kitchen. \n\n\"I can get it, what do you want? Alcohol may sound good but I don't know if my liver can handle it tonight.\" He opened the refrigerator and almost choked on the emptiness inside. He made a mental note to make a Kroger order while they watched the movie. He quickly grabbed one of every drink that was left in the fridge and walked back towards the living room setting them on the table. When he looked back at her the hair was still there but he didn't fight the urge this time. \n\nReaching out, he removed the hair from her eyelash the back of his hand gently caressing her cheek. Their gazes met for a moment before Mal looked away slightly embarrassed by his act. He sat back down and opened a Dr. Pepper, trying to find out how to mask the feelings he held inside. \n\n\"The band is like family. All I've had consistently since I can't even remember when.\" He grabbed another roll and stuffed it in his mouth, taking into account how many were left for her to eat. \"I'm sorry he was a Jack, you deserve to be treated better.\" \n\nHis eyes met hers again and he could swear every look made the tingles creep up his back. He could reach out and kiss her right now. Just the two of them alone, no one watching and analyzing their every move. He could kiss her freely..." }, { "author": "Nerissa Beaumont", "message": "***Nerissa felt lost in all things Malachai. Never did she expect their first meeting to blossom into something like this. He made her feel less exhausted, he brought her the energy she needed to get through her long days. He didn't know it, but she often felt the desire to quit even her more terrible habits just for him. He kept her from falling into them, yet when his presence wasn't with her... She would. She didn't just want him, she needed him in her life. She couldn't imagine going through anything now without him being here.*** \n\n~\n\n\"I may just have a soda instead of the alcohol, better to drink on the weekends than on the weekday. Besides if I want to drink alcohol, I would go raid Tal's collection of it. ***She giggled, making light of it all. Her fridge was scary with how barren it truly was, filled with only drinks and hardly any food. Why she was terrible at buying her own food, she wasn't sure. She did keep a hearty collection of snacks for her munchies.*** \n\n~\n\n***She hadn't realized there was a hair on her eyelash. Her breath caught in her chest when he moved close to remove it, her eyes gazing up into his. The palm of his hand felt warm, her cheeks turning slightly pink now from his touch. As he pulled away, she shook herself from her daze. Opening up a sprite for herself, she took a long sip of it to cool the burning in her face.***\n\n~\n\n\"You are lucky to have them with you always Mal, they make a great family for you and I love that they always have your back.\" ***She smiled, taking yet another sushi roll and eating it. She chewed quietly, fiddling with the remote in her hand. She shrugged her shoulders, swallowing her food and sighing.*** \"It is what it is, he has his good days and his bad days. We all have those so I can hardly fault him.\" \n\n~\n\n***Nerissa couldn't help but meet his gaze once more. She felt that same warm feeling spreading across her entire body everytime he looked at her this way. It gave her a bit of hope, that he saw her the way she sees him everyday. The silence was deafening almost, yet all she could think was how close he was to her. And how alone they both are in this apartment of hers. She stopped her staring, turning her gaze to the tv.*** So... Shall I turn on tangled now?" }, { "author": "Malachai", "message": "The short silence that had surrounded them was surprisingly comfortable. As if, if he had kissed her nothing would change. They could still be the good friends they had become without the worry of losing each other in the hidden depths of each others minds, passions and addictions. As if they could walk down the street tomorrow holding hands and the whole world wouldn't come down on them like a steel edged sword. \n\nMalchai looked at Neri, the angelic features of her face was what drew him to her but the personality inside was what really drove him over the edge. If he wasn't so damn broken, always on the brink of unwanted insanity, he would kiss her and let the world burn. Heck, it was already burning and he sat here constantly debating whether their friendship was something he wanted to ruin... And it wasn't. He would rather have Neri in his life as a friend than not at all and he couldn't risk awkwardness by acting on feelings. \n\n\"Lets watch it.\" He smiled at her, her ocean eyes meeting his mud brown. Two components that worked so well, but at the same time not at all. Malachai grabbed the kung po chicken off of the coffee table, leaning back against the soft cushions of the sofa. He was pretty good with chopsticks, handling them as easily as he handled drumsticks, but when he was paying more attention to the movie than to what he was eating, a piece of chicken fell onto his shirt. \n\n\"Ahhh... Damn it.\" He said out loud as he put the food back on the table and stood up. The shirt was maroon but you could still see the dark stain that littered down the front. The soy sauce clinging to the fabric. Mal quickly ripped the shirt off, analyzing it closer. \"Do you have any stain remover? If I put it on there now it shouldn't stain to badly.\"" }, { "author": "Nerissa Beaumont", "message": "***Nerissa felt his eyes on her face, and she fought so hard to keep herself from turning as red as the roses she kept in her kitchen. It wasn't fair, how casually he could look at her yet when she looks at him it's as if the world no longer exists. Everything grows blurry, and sounds fall onto deaf ears whenever she sees him. She only ever is able to focus on Malachai, drowning herself in his presence for as long as she can. She had to fight to keep her eyes away from him, or else she would be unable to look away. He consumed her every being, oh how she hated the effect he had on her. She hated that he would never feel the same with her. There were times she felt he did, a glint in those warm brown orbs that told her he felt something. But it vanished as quickly as it came, and she could swear she only imagined it.*** \n\n~\n\n***Friends, just friends so she said. She didn't deserve Malachai as a friend or more, not when there was so much wrong with her. If only he saw the darkness beneath the bright facade she put on for the world to see. If only he saw what she kept hidden from him, things that kept her unsleeping for days or so high she didn't even know her own name. Had he seen these, he would run in the opposite direction. Nerissa wouldn't be able to withstand such a fate, she wouldn't survive if she lost Malachai. It was a constant battle, to keep him from knowing her fully... Or to give into her own desires and temptations. To be selfless or selfish, and selfish always felt more appealing. A wanting to grab him and place her lips on his, to feel his arms wrapped around her body pulling her close. Though, Neri wasn't selfish. She wouldn't ruin what they have for her own wants. She would spare him from her pain and troubles.***\n\n~\n\n***Neri had to shake herself from her own burning thoughts. Locking away her passions as she always did, and enjoying what she got from him now. If a friendship is all he wanted, then she would endure it no matter what. As long as she was able to spend time with him, she would be okay eventually. She couldn't imagine never speaking to him again, not having the safety of his presence around her home. She understood he would find someone one day, and when he did she would support him no matter what.*** \n\n~\n\n\"Perfect, and save some of that chicken for me!\" ***She exclaimed, pulling up the movie on Disney plus. Hitting play on the remote, the movie began. Neri grabbed her own chopsticks, picking at a piece of chicken and chewing thoughtfully. As the movie played she let comfort sink into her. A simple night, but there was a beauty in their simplicity.***\n\n~\n\n***Startled, Nerissa paused the movie. Her eyes shifting to Malachai, looking at him with alarm. It was then she noticed the sauce stain on his shirt. Before she could speak, her blue eyes widened as he pulled off his shirt.*** \"I-\" ***She stuttered, words failing her. She couldn't look away, her eyes tracing his very... Bare stomach and chest. Taking in every outline of his muscled stomach, her hands itching to reach out and trace his abs one by one. Feeling the warmth beneath the palms of her hands. Discreetly, Neri pinched herself to pull away from her starstruck moment.*** \n\n~\n\n***In a slight panic, she stood quickly. Her head nodding rapidly and words spilling out of her in a jumble. Her face a shade of pink, and pupils dilated.*** \"Oh! Umm... Yes! We can use dish soap to remove the stain and I can throw this shirt in the wash. I have a shirt of yours I can grab from my bedroom while we wait for this one to be freshly clean again!\" ***She said a bit nervously, her eyes struggling to remain on his face and nothing else.***" }, { "author": "Malachai", "message": "The stain normally wouldn't have caused him so much as a flinch. The darkness from the soy sauce was not much of a difference from the maroon but he knew he would never hear the end of it from the band's new stylist. Malachai looked at the stain closely before looking up at Nerissa. He hadn't noticed that she paused the movie nor that she was staring at him as if she had never seen his chest before. His eyes found hers slowly trailing up his torso. He tried not to react, but a small smirk coated his lips. \n\n\"If I didn't know any better I'd think you were checking me out,\" Malachai stepped towards Neri, his hand lifting to her face in a sweet and innocent caress. His fingertips grasped her chin as his thumb softly swept over her lips. He licked his own in response, wanting so much to pull her close to him and kiss her like she had never been kissed before. He closed his eyes and sighed before he took a step back, letting go of her face and rubbing the back of his neck in self inflicted frustration. \n\nMalachai turned towards the kitchen, walking to the sink to dampen the stain with cold water. He watched as she fumbled from the couch and into her room to fetch his shirt. He would have thought she was as flustered as he was but he shook the thought from his mind. His feelings for her were way more complex than the sexual tension that seemed to always linger. A sigh escaped his lips as he squeezed dish soap onto the stain and gently massaged it in with his fingers. \n\nSome days he thought she might share his feelings. The small looks she would throw in his direction had been on his mind far too many nights as he lay awake staring at his ceiling. The subtle way her lips would part as she looked at him, almost as if she had something to say but prevented herself from uttering a single word. Malachai rested his hands on either side of the sink, watching as the running water went down the drain, his stained shirt in his right hand. \n\nPart of him wanted to risk it all for one\n\nKiss while the other part knew he couldn't see a life without her again. She had become his best friend, shockingly even with Dez. The idea of losing her scared him more than anything." }, { "author": "Nerissa Beaumont", "message": "***Nerissa blinked, the heat rushing to her cheeks as he moved closer to her.*** \"I-I..\" ***She stuttered, her words falling short. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, the light touch of his hand on her skin sent sparks throughout her. Her head tilted up to look up at him, following the motion of his hand grabbing her chin. Breath hitching in her chest, anticipation building in her stomach. Was he going to?...Was it finally happening? She asked herself. Yet the giddy feeling left as soon as it came once he stepped back. Though it wasn't needed, she did the same. She felt like she could breathe again. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, taking a few deep breaths of her own. The shirt, right. She had to go grab it.*** \n\n~\n\n***Completely flustered, Neri stumbled her way upstairs to her room. She made sure to shut the door behind her, leaning against it. If she could, she would go back to that moment and just kiss him already. It was when he did things like that she thought he felt more like she did, only he always stepped away. Maybe she imagined the tension between them, or maybe it was only there because he hadn't dated someone new yet for some time. They only were together in her dreams, in her imaginations. It would never be a reality, at least that is what she thought.***\n\n~\n\n***With her task at hand, she opened the little chest she kept in her room beside her bed. It was where she stored all the clothing she stole from him, plus some other things he had given her over the time they have known each other. She had maybe about three of his shirts, a pair of sweats, and two hoodies. She pulled out the dark green shirt she had stolen from him, bundling it in her hands and closing the chest. She took a moment to look herself over in the mirror, then stepped out of her bedroom. She walked down the steps, back towards the kitchen. Her dogs remained peaceful on their chair, sleeping soundly.*** \n\n~\n\n***Her footsteps were quiet as she made her way towards him, pausing at her little kitchen island. Her eyes locked onto his bare back. Slowly, she approached him. Leaning on her counter with the clean shirt away from the sink, she smiled up at him.*** \"You are very lucky that I happen to have some of your clothes here, I won't say which ones because you will not be getting them back.\" ***Nerissa laughed lightly.*** \"Once you finish I can take the shirt and go throw it in the laundry, it will be nice and clean in no time.\" \n\n~\n\n***Neri offered him the clean shirt, tilting her head slightly. She often wondered what he thought about in that head of his. Was she ever a thought? They hadn't known each other for years, but it felt like they had to her. She felt like she has known him her entire life, and she wouldn't dare lose that.***" }, { "author": "Malachai", "message": "The sigh that escaped Malachai's lips was long, the small indication of his mind working a mile a minute. While he tried to ignore the world around him he couldn't get let the thoughts go. Thoughts of Neri, the ways she was all he wanted but at the same time not wanting to expose her to the thoughts that were brought to him late at night while he slept or when he was alone. It was part of the reason he always found safety being around her. With her everything stopped, all his worries and his self-deprecating consciousness. The possibility of his mother's illness being passed to him made the safety leave. He looked down realizing his grip on the sink made his knuckles turn white. He let go and put the shirt back under the running water, letting his thoughts flow down the drain. \n\nMalachai felt her presence before she spoke. The gentle way in which she walked down the steps and approached him. Her footsteps were almost completely silent and they would have been if he hadn't been listening for them. He couldn't tell if it was intentional or if she was just always that comfortable company he craved. He turned the water off and rang out the shirt before hanging it over the sink and drying his hands. \n\n\"I need to bring you more, for instances like this of course.\" He played it off as innocent but the idea that she slept in his clothes or even lounged around her house in them brought a smile to his face. He reached for the t-shirt, his hand brushing against hers as he grabbed it. His mind flashed to moments before and he quickly pulled the shirt out of her hand. He put it back on despite his want to keep it off. \"Where is your washer? I'll throw this in and we can get back to Tangled.\"" }, { "author": "Nerissa Beaumont", "message": "***Nerissa smiled, waiting for him to grab the shirt she offered. Her fingers felt the warmth from his brief touch, jolting ever so slightly from it. When he finally put his clean shirt on, she nearly pouted in disagreement with it. She would've enjoyed the view a bit longer had he kept it off, but she knew better than to say anything about it. She gestured towards the laundry room with, pointing down the hall where it was at.*** \"The laundry room is just right down there, I will be here waiting for you when you get back. I also have all the laundry essentials in there... Use what you like.\" ***She said.*** \n\n***Neri made her way back to the couch once he left to go wash his shirt. She was grateful to be away from him for just a few minutes. She needed to clear her head of the impeding thoughts that threatened to run wild. Friends, just friends. Nothing more, she thought to herself. She needed to stop thinking of him as anything more, but that mere though only wounded her heart more. She felt lucky to even have his company, and she may as well enjoy it even if it is just as friends.*** \n\n***Once Malachai returned, the rest of the night was spent watching Tangled and eating the takeout food together. They laughed and talked endlessly throughout the movie, singing along to the songs each time one started. It was nights like these that eased the ache in her heart, she craved the days they spent together. When it grew late, Nerissa was reluctant to say her goodbyes to him. She wished he could have stayed with her. Once he left, she returned to her room. Where she would have a restless sleep, her thoughts all too consumed with everything Malachai.***" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "Winding through the streets of Apollo's Arts District is the Arcadian Artisan Market, a bustling marketplace where gods and artisans showcase their craftsmanship. Vibrant stalls offer divine sculptures, paintings, and handcrafted instruments. The air is filled with the sweet melodies of street performers and the enticing aroma of ambrosial incense." }, { "author": "-- aurora calicchio. '", "message": "_ _\n❝ 𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒. ❞ \n ** ** Ft ; 𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐚 & 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨.\n\n ( \n\n▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀ ▀▀▀▀ ▀▀\n\n** ** 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒. That evening, the market was absolutely teeming with patrons of all kind, and Aurora gladly plunged herself into the crowd for what easily could've been the fifth time since she and her father had arrived there. Women in spring-appropriate attire shopped for fine fabrics and lovely tapestries, their hands pointed upwards as they commented on displays and asked to feel the quality of the materials. Men with their hands jammed deep into the recesses of their pockets, heads nodding in close conversation as they stood in areas that *Weren't* Clogged by crowds. Were they waiting on their wives? There was a chance. Were they awaiting the next round of samples? *Also a high possibility.* \n\n** ** There were children, sticky faces and fat cheeks practically glowing with glee, as they chased each other through the forest of legs. Their stubby fingers remain outstretched to try and grasp at their friends' clothing in attempts to catch up to them, their game of tag one of pure competition. In fact, it was one of these games that nearly up-ended Aurora, exclaiming in surprise as her arms threw themselves out to regain her balance. By the time she'd looked up, the kids had already long gone, pitched voices quickly fading into the noises of the marketplace. Such was the ambience of the Artisan Market, but it was *Appreciated.*\n_ _\n\n** ** \"I- no, *We* Really should come here more! I forgot how busy this place can get,\" Aurora said, head constantly on the swivel as she ducked past tailors and seamstresses, their voices sailing over the croon of the nearby street band as they announced their items for sale. Pausing to listen to the band, Aurora lightly swayed in place, moving here and there to avoid customers as they hurried down the cobblestone path. Large bags of purchases bounced at their sides, signaling a good spend. Shooting a glance at the man at her side, Aurora tilted her head towards the band, a curious look on her face. \"Were you ever in a band? I feel like that's something you would've taken up at least *Once* In your life. Maybe four or five years ago?\"\n_ _\n\n** ** Would it be hard to see Apollo as a lead singer in a band? Of course not. In the time that Aurora had known her father, she'd come to learn plenty of things about the man with each passing day, no matter how eventful or bland those days were. Of all the things? It was that her dad was no stranger to anything concerning the arts. Perhaps it was why the two had managed to find themselves down in the market that day, surrounded by the very thing her father ruled over. Aurora enjoyed the mart and all the activity that came with it. Even when her pockets had been turned inside out by the end of the visit and there was nothing but lint to show to the vendors, it was still nice. From the food to the merchants and their humorous call lines, there was no way she would've missed out when word found its way down the grape vine that there would be a small festival held in the performance square. It seemed as if everyone else was more or less there for the same purpose, if not for the food actively being cooked and handed out to willing buyers. Even though she'd already eaten a late lunch not too long before, Aurora couldn't deny that the aroma of cooked pork and the minty scent of fresh veggies was a tug. A *Pull.* \n\nWould an early dinner kill her? Of course not. Looking back to her father, Aurora drew a deep breath; a mistake on her part. Her stomach grumbled, set off by the action. \"I haven't had street food in forever.\"" }, { "author": "Apollo", "message": "It was all a bit much, wasn't it? The flow of commerce swept over them, steering their steps with the current that would have been impossible to against. Like vehicle traffic, each direction had its lane, and those that weaved in and out, trying to rush through their place, were met with narrowed eyes or a harsh, biting bit of criticism from the more patient lot just trying to spend hard-earned pay. Apollo generally liked a crowd, but he enjoyed it more when the crowd was focused on him and his elegance. There would be none of that with Aurora at his side. When his darling daughter was with him, his desire for opulence faded, and he adopted a more enigmatic approach to how he moved about the world. \n\nWhat had changed in Apollo? She was certainly not his first child and most likely was not even the youngest. The number of affairs he'd had with mortal women was far beyond counting. There was just something *Special* About her that had melted him the way no child before she had. Gods and mortal-plane contacts alike had wandered often where he had vanished for a decade. The answer was simple. A young woman coming into her abilities needed someone to guide her along the path. She would never have fit in amongst the mortals, and she would have been a potential threat to those around her. \n\nNot a day went by that Apollo did not think of her mother's tears the day he'd come for her. She was an exceptional woman, after all. Their union had been brief but fierce, and it had produced a life he could not ignore. \"She doesn't belong here. She will grow up feeling alone and not understand why she is different. It will be torture. She has to go with me.\" It was one of the few things Apollo had done in recent memory. He put his never-ending good time on hold in order to raise a teenage girl, and in the end, he hoped her mother would come to appreciate that it was the best for her daughter. It was fine that she hated him, so long as she just understood why.\n\n*Were you ever in a band?*\n\nSweet words snapped him from his distant, dark memories to look upon her beautiful face. *A face that was so much like her mother's.* \"Oh, many times. However, it got harder to fit in as cameras became a thing, and my face was harder to hide. I was something before all of that. The greatest performer you've ever seen.\" Apollo was many things, but modesty was not one of them. It was why he had chosen to mark his body in ink. Even when dressed down, he wanted to stand out. He had to feel as if he would catch someone's eye. Now, for example, he dressed as the anthesis of day. Dark sunglasses, a black henley, and a pair of jeans that looked as if they had been broken in perfectly to fit his form, yet even in something so simple, a tapestry of tattoos spilled out from every opening to draw the gaze of those they passed by. \n\n\"Eat. There is no reason to starve yourself. You're still a growing girl.\" She wasn't, but her father struggled mightily with the concept of her growing any older than when he had first taken her to his home. The gifts he brought her were often dated to that time in her life, almost as if he had refused to acknowledge her twenties. His shoulder nudged her in the direction of a particular section of carts. There was no need to tell her whatever she wanted was on him. Apollo spoiled his daughter to the point where she did not even need to ask. She had good manners and more than likely would, but her father's response was always the same. \n\n*The world is yours. What you want, I will make happen for you." }, { "author": "-- aurora calicchio. '", "message": "** ** *\"The greatest performer you've ever seen.\"*\n\n** ** \"Ah, I bet,\" Aurora laughed, the noise akin to the silvery chime of jingle bells. Warm eyes flitted to the band again as they wrapped up a song, allowing just a moment of peace before they resumed once more. Absolutely, she could see her father up there, performing himself. After all, she'd gotten it all from *Him.* The yearn to craft and present, the hope to enthrall. She hadn't been there from the start to see it all when it began; when Apollo had shone brighter than nebulas and moved Olympus and Olympians alike with ease. Not even when she'd been scooped from the island, a fresh face hiding from her new environment and the unnamed faces that made up its society. Not once, no, but she was here now. Even if she hadn't seen her father in his band days, she was far too certain that she was still witnessing his work, polished and refined as ever it was before. It was in a new era, but the same man. \n_ _\n\n** ** There were times when Aurora wondered if Apollo had ever envisioned himself being a father. Not at all in the literal sense of bearing a child and wearing the paternity title, but the deeper threads of it. Being part of the lifestyle, holding the responsibilities that followed suit. A large part of her had always considered it whenever she'd looked at him. Did a part of him regret not seeing her grow from the start? He'd jumped in during the peak of her teen years; when she was still figuring out all that she wanted from life, good and bad. Her first boyfriend and her first break up. Her first official song. Prom. *Life.* He'd filled in where he could, and she didn't think it would ever be possible to love him anymore than she already did for that. But she knew she could, and she would. *The world was hers* As he'd said. All the times as a child that she'd ever believed that he'd held the world at his fingertips still prevailed.\n\n** ** \"What should we eat first? There's some really good pita wraps over there at that man's stall. Or we could try the fruit kabobs? They have the ones with the glazed sugar on them. I don't think I've had those in forever! Have you?\" Words sewn together, all for the mere purpose of pointing out as many things as she possibly could. There was far too much for the eyes to take in, and far too little air in her lungs to list out every single display that caught her attention. The blaring colors of silken fabric she would've loved to drape over the plush of her duvets. The chime of dangling windchimes, far from her liking of home decor but pretty to the eyes, nonetheless. She didn't know *Where* To rest her attention. Reaching behind her, Aurora took hold of Apollo's hand and began to lead him off through the clumps of people, gaze forever bouncing. \n\n** ** \"Woven bracelets. Can we get matching ones?\"" }, { "author": "Apollo", "message": "Not a day went by that he did not look at the woman and wonder what could have been. Princess dresses and tea parties with her squish mallows. Long walks and the banter between a six-year-old and her immortal, ever-patient father. In the dead of night, tears would well in the god's eyes—a realization of centuries of neglect. Not only had he denied himself the joy of being a father, but on a far less selfish level, he realized that he had denied many the joy of *Having* A father. That was not to say that he was the best. There were mistakes, and the god was still as selfish as any of his kind, but he crammed eons of effort into *His* Daughter. She was his penance to the world and the start of a new being. Whatever that looked like. \n\n\"Maybe one day we will hit up a karaoke bar. We can see what Hemera and Aether are up to. Have a family evening out. Pizza..\" His brain trailed off in slow realization of the shift in his persona. The term *Family* Had just never been in his vocabulary. While he had parents and a twin, it was not as if he treated them like kin. He was aloof and capricious as he was with the rest of the world. Yet, with Aurora, there was a sense of foundation for a home. Upon his love for her, he could construct something stable and nurturing. Fear welled in his heart but dispelled as his eyes fell upon her. Something about the way a ray of light hit her face, and the bounce in her hair caught him in a moment. Another woman, another time. That sense of panic subsided. \"You should hear me do Velvet Revolver. No one does Scott Weiland like me..\"\n\nApollo's vulnerable moment came and went in a flash, and his hand came to curl at her shoulder for a fatherly half hug. This was the part of the evening where his picture of perfection would muse over her meal, and Apollo, in his patience would let the guessing game run it's course. They would get to an answer. \"I have not. But we could do that. This is your day, Princess. I am basking in your attention and footing the bill.\" Their hands cupped, and in that, he felt bones as delicate as glass to a god. Though she was partially infused with his strength and no mere mortal, everything paternal in him that had been latent before rushed to the surface in a surge of love that he could not fathom even during his longest pondering sessions. \n\n\"I would be offended if we didn't.\" She could ask him for anything, and if it was in his power to deliver, he would do so without question." }, { "author": "-- aurora calicchio. '", "message": "** ** Wandering eyes found themselves flitting back to Apollo as Aurora let loose a laugh at his suggestion. *A karaoke bar.* They were arguably one of the best and *Worst* Places to be. Every single person that found themselves there, mic in one hand and drink in another, sang not lyrics, but their own story. Some were there to combat a sour breakup. Others were there for the hell of it. And even then, among the group, there were the rare exceptions that were hauled along by their friends, forced to sit and watch song after song flick by on a screen they'd likely never see again. Not willingly, anyway. The last time Aurora had ever entered a karaoke bar, it'd been at the breaking line of midnight; right on the dot, really. Somehow, singing your lungs out at a terrible key of harmony made for a fine night. She thought as much, anyhow. Giving her father's hand a small squeeze, she nodded her agreement, a certain kind of delight etched into her face. Truth be told, she didn't really care *What* They did. Spending time with Apollo was a treat in itself, no matter the activity at hand. Even if they weren't doing anything of real interest and were simply just *Sitting* There, she would have been more than happy. It was hard to complain about circumstances when you were far too cheerful to care. \n_ _\n\n** ** \"Though, that wouldn't be fair to the other people! Imagine going to a karaoke bar, expecting to flex some vocals, and *The* Apollo shows up, grabs a mic, and starts singing Velvet Revolver. *I* Would personally have my confidence broken,\" She teased, pausing for just a brief moment as she hovered in front of one of the vendor tables. The man behind it smiled and took a step to the side, exposing the full extent of jewelry hanging on little pegs behind him. However, Aurora's eyes didn't wander there. Instead, they remained glued on the small slat of wood that served as a table. Bracelets of all kinds sat on the surface, their prices written out on little slips of plastic tags. Staring down at them, she reached for one, then a different one, fingers just barely brushing each option. There were too many to pick to settle for just one on the first try. Too many options, too many ideas. Each was a fine contribution, each was a pretty idea.\n_ _\n\n** ** \"Oooh... Uhm!\" Biting the inside of her cheek, she fluttered her indecisive fingers, then finally pointed at a gray one and smiled up at the vendor. \"Hello! Do you have this one in black?\" It was a simple question; the answer wouldn't sadden her either way. Many colors matched just fine with one another. When the man behind the counter nodded and slipped away, Aurora turned to her father and grinned, hands clapping delightedly. \"Do you think we should get two for Aether and Hemera as well? Maybe a pale yellow for Hemera and a white one for Aether? Or a baby blue!\" Aurora cut off as she glanced back at the vendor's voice. Hands out, the vendor offered out the black version of the bracelet she'd sought out before. It was pretty and simple, but not simple to the point that it could've been mistaken as a dull hair tie. There was a lovely silver heart studded in the middle, held together by intricate threads. Grinning, Aurora nodded, sure of her choice. \n\n\"Dad, do you like it? We can take them into the city and get our initials engraved in them!\"\n\n** ** ( ||" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "Named after the muse of music, the Euterpe Lounge is a chic venue where gods and patrons come together to appreciate live music, jazz performances, and poetry readings. The lounge is adorned with musical motifs and celestial accents, creating an atmosphere that resonates with the divine muse of melody." }, { "author": "Apollo", "message": "From the onset, this date had the makings of a nightmare. The man was attractive in the way any man with a square jaw and a fraternity boy swagger could be. Not a hair on his carefully coiffed head was out of place. The copious amount of products could be thanked for that. He'd dressed well enough. Fashionable enough to stay with the trends and catch a discerning eye for a little bit longer than a glance, yet the second he opened his mouth, it shattered the entire illusion. \n\nMeet Sebastian Macellroy. A walking series of red flags in the least attractive manner possible. Her publicist had arranged for this little dinner. An established yet embattled starlet and a self-proclaimed social media \"Finance expert.\" It was the sort of thing that could spin into some quick cash-injection opportunities in the future. Her face and his snake-oil salesman charm were bound to put a bit more money in her rapidly fading bank account. \n\nIt was clear that the fellow thought highly of himself. For the better part of twenty minutes, he had spent lecturing her on all the mistakes she had made with her finances. How could they turn her sinking ship around with sound, long-term investments with a few \"Minimal risk-high reward\" Options in start-ups? It was the same circular jargon that those who thought they knew everything used when they wanted to explain how the world worked to a poor damsel in distress. \n\n*For she certainly was in distress.*\n\nOn the off chance she had been allowed to speak on anything, his eyes had been too lost in the swell of her chest to give any word a severe consideration, and in that, he had been like a barnacle. She could not wander far without him clinging to his side. That was until another influencer caught his attention, and he excused himself to speak to them on what he had called a \"Future, lucrative collaboration.\" With a sly smile, he'd slipped a twenty-dollar bill into her hand. \"Go buy yourself something nice. I'll be back for you.\" The way he had touched her cheek was an attempt at suave that fell far short of the mark. By the time she recovered from the chill racing down her spine, she had been left with a singular urge. If she had to endure this, then alcohol would be her companion. \n\nIt was at the bar that something changed. An inconsistency made itself known in this scenery of bright colors and flashing lights. Inked, fleshed, cloaked in midnight black fabric and glinting jewelry that sent dazzling sparkes when a stray beam crossed his visage. If her date was handsome, the man seated off to the side of the bar, seemingly unnoticed by others, was otherworldly. Beautiful in a way most could not put into words while highlighting masculine traits without the toxicity that was so common amongst those who looked to be in his age range. \n\nFrom the edges of his attire, ink-scrawled flesh spilled in every direction, and eyes she could not discern from behind his dark sunglasses took in the beauty of the creature that his divine light had once graced. A child actress with so much promise turned into a falling star. Despite her beauty and celebrity, the bartender seemed not to notice her. He moved about, seeing to other patrons, leaving them with a quiet moment amongst the events playing out all around them.\n\n\"This beauty is vain, this, born to be wasted, poured on the ground like water, spilled, and by no man tasted; This, born to be loved, unloved shall remain. Till in white dust, the lovely bones whiten again; Till, dust in white dust, this high heart shall be still. It shall desire, and its labor be lost; it shall not have its will; You, armies had met, once, if you turned your head: Shall there be nothing changed? Nothing, when you are dead.\"\n\nMen did not quote divine poetry in a bar, but this god had a gift for oration that could captivate if not careful. When the divine opened his mouth, a tone as deep as the abyss spoke words of wasted potential and unfulfilled desire. A lamentation of unappreciated beauty in its true form. Not the physical assets she was graced with that all others saw her for. This was his gift to her. An introduction long past due. The god of many realms lifted his drink. Something fruity with a large fruit slice and a little umbrella that did not seem to fit the dark theme of the man before her.\n\n\"Marco.\" His voice came quiet, and in the midst of making another's drink, the mixologist ceased and looked to the lady as if he had just now taken note of her. The dark stranger gestured to the woman as if to offer her the floor. He would not order for her, nor would he presume to know her greatest desire. For the first time that evening, she had been given the choice to make her own decision: no publicist, no horrible date, no failing career or tabloid fodder. \n\nThey would start with a drink, but he would leave her the possibility of so much more if she was wise enough to take it." }, { "author": "Talassa Beaumont", "message": "This was actual torture. Andy DeWitt would be fired. Her fucking agent had suggested a more 'clean cut' vibe for Tatassa's next arranged boyfriend of the month. She had gotten incredibly dolled up for this date, choosing one of the nicer dresses she had on her clean rack. Rose red fabric wrapped around her like a second skin, and detached sleeves that ended at her palms. She was stunning and she knew it. Thalassa's hair was curled gently down her shoulders and her makeup, as usual, was impeccable, highlighting her pouted lips and large eyes. Safe to say, she had gone all out. And now... Well it was turning out to be less than worth it. 
\n.\n
Talassa blinked slowly as this man spoke yet another condescending word to her about her finances. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, but it wasn't like he would notice. They flicked between his cellphone and her tits endlessly and he probably wouldn't know the color of her eyes if she shut them and asked. Reports of her faltering wealth were rampant but to be honest, Mythos High was by no means slowing down. Season 4 was set to release in a month and she had more wealth than she knew what to do with. She had made a few... Unnecessary purchases and suddenly every media outlet reported she had blown all her cash away on blow and booze. She had tried to of course, but she just had far too much. \n\n.\nShe hadn't been paying attention until money was shoved into her palm and her date seemed to wander off to one of his 'influencer' friends. *Thank the Gods.* She snorted at the irony of the thought and placed the 20$ on the bar as a tip before finding her seat some ways away. She would pay for her own drink, thank you very much. Her phone was instantly in her hands and three tests went out with a little chirping noise, first was to her sister. **Horrible date, going to drink away the boringness, please walk Castor and Pollux for me. Love you!** The next one was sent to her manager Andy, **Try this influencer bullshit on me again and\n\nI WILL fire you!** And finally, one last one to the man in the corner laughing way too loudly for it to be real. **Don't come back over here and don't DM me. Hope you choke. Xoxo** 
\n.\n\nWith that she turned to the bartender who didn't seem to even notice her presence and it was then that she finally decided to take a look around. The lounge wasn't one of her normal haunts. It was smokey and jazzy and quiet and hushed. Something she had seen in the movies but never really dared to adventure into. She told herself they would probably be boring, but honestly she feared she wouldn't fit in, but now that she was here... The anonymity was almost nice. Now this was a place she could drink. Truly drink. Not for anyone else, not for pictures or friends or lovers, but to numb it all. 
\n.\n\nIt took a few moments for the actress to notice the presence to her left, someone that seemed to suck the light out of the bar and illuminate himself with it all. As if glowing from the inside beneath those inky black tattoos that covered him like an artists brush. His voice is what almost struck her over, it was musical and enchanting. He must be a singer right? Some sort of musician. Her eyes scanned what she could see of his handsome face, but it gave nothing away. No one she knew or had seen before. 
\n.\n
Her thoughts stopped as his words sunk in, and she started. Her eyes widened slightly with shock and a tinge of hurt. It was as if this man had spoken poetry of her darkest fears coming to life. Her talent wasted, her nothing but a faded memory of a faded star. He spoke her nightmares with such beauty that instead of being indignant, she could only listen, her eyes tearing up slightly. She would never let those tears fall though, not in front of a stranger. Not in front of anyone. 
\n.\n
Red talons tapped on the bar once, twice, three times as Talassa just stared at the man, unreadable. Unsure herself if she would simply walk away, but even as the thought crossed her mind she knew she wouldn't. She was far too intrigued. He was hot, artistic, and dared speak to her in a casual way most wouldn't without being a complete ass like FinanceBroski420 over in the corner now glarin\n\nG daggers at them. As he called the bartender, Talassa very skillfully tore her eyes away, giving him the look that showed it was hard to do so before she made her order. \"I'm simple don't worry, I won't force you to make some tiktok monstrosity.\" She laughed in a bit of a husky tone, her French accent caressing every word that dripped from her painted lips. \"A dirty martini please, extra olives. And please get the man in the corner over there a blowjob shot? It's the closest thing he'll get to the real one and I hate for him to go home without something to brag about.\" She smiled her best Hollywood beam and winked at the man before turning fully in her seat towards the mysterious poet. 
\n.\n
Her eyes didn't leave his but she uncrossed and recrossed her legs casually, making sure one of her toned calves brushed against his own leg before she settled back in. \"So, not many come to dark bars to insult women with beautiful words. Does that line usually get you attention?\" She cocked a brow at him waiting for some sort of explanation. \"I assume you know who I am given your analysis of my life. Care to put a girl on even footing?\"" }, { "author": "Apollo", "message": "There were many things that were enticing about her reaction. Most would have probably taken the time to tour her figure in the dress, given the safety of his glasses, and to some extent, he may have. Gods were more desirous than most. But the actual pleasure came in watching the woman slowly come to realize what he had said. The weight of his words and the shock in her eyes as he had bypassed the dressing to get to what was beneath. \n\nThis dark stranger did not continue to plug away with creative, centuries-old poetry to impress the woman. The man played a game and marinated in his own silence to let the tension build. The trap was set and baited, but would the otherworldly beauty walk in willingly? Eons of life had given him the gift of patience, even if he was more impetuous by nature than gods with more self-control. A mortal, with their blink of an eye, life-spans could not outwait him. \n\nThe accent was charming, and though she made an attempt at humor towards the bartender, Apollo one-uped and waved off her order. \"I would not bother making him a drink if it was nothing but spilled liquor. Ice water to cool his hot temperment. He was allowed to sit with her for a time, and that has passed. Compliments of the house.\" It alluded to the fact that he may have been some owner in the establishment. It figured, given his absolute command of the room.\n\nThe bartender, Marco, as he had been called, was set to the task of first layering her a perfect martini. Apollo watched him as if the weight of his gaze would press the flavors that much better. \"He got your time. That is enough for him to brag about.\" The words came through with absolute confidence and brokered no argument. It was not talking down to her as the others have. It was a statement of fact that she was worth more than even she might have considered. \n\n\"An insult?\" That perked his brow and caused him to reach up and pull off his sunglasses. They were folded, then tucked into the collar of his shirt. \"I do not think Arthur Symons's words were meant to be insulting. Just because something isn't living up to its full potential does not mean it's a bad thing; it's just that I see more for you in this life than where you are at right now.\" The finance broski was now a fixture in the background. A baleful glare that would last until he learned the name of the one she spoke to. If he asked enough people, he would back down and fade into the night to let his hand take care of what her beauty had awakened in him. \n\n*Care to put a girl on even footing?*\n\n\"No.\" He said playfully at first before looking at her as his lips found his straw. The green eyes of the divine being before her knew perfectly how to communicate a bold sense of flirtation. There was heat permeating from the man and a slight dip of his gaze, this time without the glasses, to feed her sense of overwhelming vanity. She had put in effort, and he should have praised her as his lips curled around his straw to sip the tropical concoction. After a second's worth of air, he amended. \"Well, maybe I can just this once.\"\n\nThe way he flirted with her could be called impish. The man was not so dark and brooding as to lean into that fully. It flirted with mystique and a sense that he was not the sort that would take himself too seriously. Not if it was making her smile and further pulling her into his vortex of charisma. \"I am the one for whom this district is named. All of this is here because I willed it to be so.\" His hand raised, motioning through the air in such a way that indicated not only the bar but the entirety of the district. \n\n\"Apollo, my dear Talassa. And I do not need lines to get attention. I had yours before I ever opened my mouth.\" The drink was set down, and he would let the woman digest and respond before he decided how to take the next step. The reactions of mortals meeting the diving were normally priceless, but Apollo evoked a wide range of reactions. Though he was one of the more beloved gods, some seemed to resent the lack of preferential treatment. She would not know she had once been blessed in his eyes, but there was a certain bit of volatility when meeting a being that could catapult a career into the stratosphere. That was if she even believed him in the first place." }, { "author": "Talassa Beaumont", "message": "Talassa was impressed. Incredibly so. Water. It made her giggle and grin, her pout turning into a quirked slash of red from her lipstick as she watched Marco bring the man his water and the douchebag glared over at them. Tal wiggled her talons at the absolute asshole before completely turning her body towards the handsome, dark stranger once more, signaling she was done with her date, forever. Her fingers wrapped around the martini glass and she brought it to her perfectly painted lips, drinking down the first few sips greedily, almost draining it. Gods, she already needed another. 
\n.\n
Arthur Symon. So that's who's words had been parroted by the stranger who seemed to consume every breath of air in this place, his words putting her more and more on edge, her brows furrowing into a frown. \"What are you some sort of teen drama critic? A porn producer? I've told you boys a million times, I am not interested in shaking my tits at you for money. If I wanted to go down that route, I already would have.\" She rolled her eyes and finished the martini and spoke to Marco, though her gaze never left this mystery man's. \"Another of your best martini's Marco, on your friend here.\" She carefully stood and walked her nails over the bar until they reached his arm, her body standing right in front of him. Gods he radiated power and sex and presence. It was hard not to fall to her knees, but that was *Not* Talassa's style. 
\n.\n
Her fingers found his arm and started walking up it, putting slight pressure on the tips of the talons as they travelled up and down the dark pattern of his tattoos. He was going to play with her it seemed for a few moments, denying her his name. He was boyish in that aspect, but the rest of him was all man, and Talassa had no doubt in her mind that he would absolutely adore the game of cat and mouse she was toying with as she carefully slid her nails, and hand away. That is until he changed his mind. \n.\n

**\"Well, maybe I can just this once... Apollo my dear Ta\n\nLassa\"**
\n.\n
Time stopped. Everything stopped. Her breath whooshed from her body and she felt like she was aching for the ability to simply exist. Apollo. Not a man, a God. Not just any god, but a major god. Not just a major god, but a god of her profession. A God who could make or break her in more ways than one. Suddenly, water dripped onto her hand and she looked down, Marco having placed a martini right there between her fingers. 
\n.\n
She was an actress. Talassa Beaumont could do this, she could do anything. With grace she didn't know she had in the moment she could barely breathe, Talassa brought the glass up to her lips and took a few sips, her eyes once more connected to the beautifully powerful man who had seemingly found her to be interesting enough to toy with for the evening. She was no toy though, and she was not to be some tragic plaything for another powerful man. She had played that part over and over.
\n.\n
\"Apollo... Well... That explains the ego now, doesn't it?\" 
\n.\n
Her red pout turned up in a smirk and she pulled her chair closer, sitting once more as she kept her composure, though her nail tapped gently on the glass in a soothing rhythm that seemed to keep in pace with her heart." }, { "author": "Apollo", "message": "For a time, Apollo watched as the woman slipped into the seducturess mode she knew all too well. Sexuality and beauty were her allies in the struggle against an industry that would chew her up and spit her out if she was not careful. Countless executives had offered her rapid rises and roles for a night with her body, but this man did not radiate that sort of sleaze. She giggled impishly at the game they played with her defunct date before they settled into something that displayed openly what sort of man she would have been interested in taking to her bed. \n\nTall, dark-featured, and handsome, with a twist of arrogance that was different from the seething man in the corner. His brand was absolute confidence in himself, so much so that he did not need to constantly spout facts on crypto currency and what he was doing to impress her. She was already impressed, and he knew it without her having to say a single thing. \n\nAs she stood before him, the man suddenly shifted from his relaxed, laid-back pose into something more erect. It allowed his upper half to enter her sphere of influence, and their scents mingled into a beautiful concoction that would intoxicate any who happened to take it in. \"I would never put that on film to show to others. I am too possessive. If you were to shake those in my face, it would be because you wanted it.\" That was to say, he was against putting it on film, but there was something in the way his chest swelled when she had mentioned porn. It was protective body language as if he would break anyone who dared lay eyes upon her in such a way that wasn't him.\n\nMarco did not even look to his employer as he poured the drink. It was simply understood that he would do whatever she asked. Perhaps they had done this before, or perhaps there was some other sort of agreement between them. It was like they could communicate through thought. The man was a professional and knew when to ask and when to facilitate, such as the point where she was picking her jaw up off the floor at his grand reveal. \n\nMore than any other god, Apollo had the power to make or break her. No executive or director could douse his blessing, and through him, undeniable talent would shine through and break the system. Apollo was not the sort to give these blessings often and had not for the past decade. Many had thought he had vanished from the scene. The artists that paid homage to their patron had largely went untended until this very moment it would seem. \n\nWhen she realized she could not simply dominate this man with her body, she eased back into her chair to take a more laid-back approach. A mortal could not slap box with a god, but she had other ways to fight her battles. Going from being atop him to sudden distance was one way to get his attention, and he, in turn, leaned down to grasp her stool and pull it closer to him. His strength was immeasurable as a god, and she moved as if she were a feather seated upon the wood. \n\n\"It will explain a great many things you will come to find.\" His body language was leaned forward. Imposing but engaged, and his eyes dipped to take in the sight of his disciple.\n\n\"There is no need to be nervous. I have come to bestow you with the blessing of my attention.\" His own festive, fruity drink was brought to his lips for a quick sip via the straw before it was set down on the bar top to be forgotten for another time. \"Your date is with me now..\" Apollo spoke it as if it made it so. Though it could not be denied that such was an upgrade to her evening. \"And in turn, I will let you ask your patron whatever you desire. Any burning mystery or guidance you want. Any boon or curse you wish, I will grant it. Such is not an offer I'd give to just anyone..\"" }, { "author": "Talassa Beaumont", "message": "Talassa didn't really know what she was supposed to do. What did one say to a god? To APOLLO of all Gods? He had been gone for much of her career, but she did remember her mother teaching her to pray to him back when she was in those child pageants. She even had an altar of the man in her childhood bedroom closet. And here he was, rescuing her from dates looking all sexy and mysterious and offering her things. Was this some sort of cruel joke? Was he just another actor?
\n.\n
No... Even as the thought flickered through her mind, every instinct of hers told her he was real. He was a God, truly. There was an aura about him that she had never felt before. Like standing next to a live wire. A hum of energy seemed to come from him but it wasn't some sharp thing, but a warmth, almost an unseeable glow that radiated over her. She felt more radiant next to him, more... More. It made her sit straighter, lift her chin higher, and not in the fake way she usually did, but one that felt genuine. As if she basked and grew under his attention. 
\n.\n
She couldn't help but laugh at his comment about being possessive. \"Does the possesiveness come with the God package? I've never heard a tale about you lot where someone wasn't jealous in some way.\" She laughed lightly as the drink once more made its way to her lips. What she wasn't ready for was his hand gripping her chair and pulling her to him like it was nothing. Well, she was sure to a God, it was. To her? To her it was hot as hell. She had to keep it together though. No matter who he was, Tala would *Never* Willingly allow someone to have the upper hand, she just didn't trust like that. Especially in this business.
\n.\n
\"A date with you?\" She raised that brow of hers that seemed to speak in some sarcastic and bitchy language of its own. \"I don't believe I agreed to that...\" She sipped on her drink for a moment before slightly angling away from him, even trapped with his body so close to her own. \"What could you give me that I couldn't gi\n\nVe myself Apollo? Do you not think I am ambitious or talented enough? The only people who could help me are those with industry experience and *You*\" She paused pointedly and looked his gorgeous form up and down, \"Have been gone for most of my career. I made it without you. Even despite the entire industry suffering without your guidance. Didn't you abandon your patrons? I have enough daddy issues Mister God of the Sun, I don't need God issues as well.\" 
\n.\n
Talla was nervous to look at him. Her voice had wavered a few times with that little tantrum of brattiness, but she wasn't one to sink to her knees to worship until the being had proven themselves worthy, and though Apollo proved to be a wonderful distraction from a shitty date, but give her what she wanted? Needed?
\n.\n
\"Besides...\" She finally turned to look him right in those hypnotic eyes, \"What I would want from you is no easy gift. It would take from you to give to me. Most Gods don't bestow gifts that come with a string attached to them.\"" }, { "author": "Apollo", "message": "It was not as if she had radiant supernatural confidence since the start of this. Doubt was a shadow cast over her actions. She could *Try* To resist, but he could sense the slight betrayals here and there that gave way to what was on her mind. *Good for her,* He thought to himself; all the while, he tried to act above the base arousal this sort of hunt stirred in him. It didn't matter that her mask was flawless. It was more important that she didn't shrink from the moment. Despite a lack of assurance. She stood defiant. \n\n\"I have done some dastardly things in the name of jealousy.\" If the myths were to be believed, he had, in fact, been a more petulant god at one point in time. Was he admitting, or was he using his own legend as a sort of way to passively let her know what he was capable of?\"It's not the sort of thing you want to make a habit of testing.\" Knowing her, she would test him repeatedly. He'd never said he would harm her. It was others who would feel the wrath of the sun god. \n\nShe leaned away and deflected the offer of the date, and to see a god's nostrils flare like some minotaur in a maze had to be either unnerving or a thrill she had not been expecting. \"Acting above my attention is foolish, Talassa. You're smarter than that.\" Drawing back from him caused him to draw back as well. A feint to reassess and move again when the moment felt right. \n\n\"I could give you control,\" Apollo spoke boldly, without any reservation, as if he could peer beyond the curtain to see what her life was like that she was struggling to keep secret. \"You could go get anything, I'm certain, but at what cost? If you are going to pay a price, why not to the most generous lender?\" The way his arms stretched out suggested she was talking to that particular lender.\n\n\"I was not gone for the entirety of your career.\" The man added, perhaps suggesting that her start could have come from his blessings. It was funny that she had mentioned daddy issues, given the reason he'd left. There was a long moment where he thought about how to play this. He had not publicly stated why he'd left. It was a fantastical sort of mystery that would have been the juiciest bit of gossip to have. After a moment's deliberation, he decided not only *Hit* In those daddy issues but perhaps on the part of every person that loved a bit of \"Spilled tea.\" \n\n\"I had a daughter to raise. She needed all of my attention, and I figured that was more important.\" He shrugged those large, boulder-like shoulders before he slipped back into his distant, relaxed sort of pose, his legs spread just wide enough to perhaps tempt a glance, but with no real effort to draw her gaze downwards. \"It served to weed out the talented from the blessed, and here you are.\" He motioned to her form, though they both knew she was not doing her best. \n\n\"Oh, is that so?\" Apollo said, perhaps picking up what she was putting down. \"You are correct. We generally do not like giving such gifts easily, but if the offer is right, there could be arrangements made. Test me, my date. Let's see how bold you are.\"" }, { "author": "Talassa Beaumont", "message": "Talassa chuckled darkly. She had no doubt Apollo had done *Horrid* Things in order to keep control, just as he said. There was a slight burning of a challenge that flared to a spark in her chest at that and she grinned at him. \"I am not yours to be jealous of Apollo. I can fuck and speak to whoever I like until I decide I belong to another.\" She finished off her second drink, loving how her body grew more relaxed, her movements more fluid as she stretched upwards, showing off her ample chest. \n.\nAm I though?\" She cocked her head to the side but didn't expand before continuing, \"You could give up control? A God? Now who is insulting my intelligence?\" She laughed softly again before pushing her glass once more towards the bartender, always needing and wanting more of the liquid that calmed and excited her all at once. \"Gods are generous on their own terms. With humans, I can manage to get the better end of the deal with a bit of persuasion. You lot are a bit harder to deal with.\" She winked at him as her glass was filled once more. \n.\nAs she sipped and he spoke of a child, she started. Her eyes were wide and searched his face. They were eons of years old of course, the Gods. But they all looked so young, some not old enough to have raised fully adult children, and Apollo was no exception. Perhaps he could have a toddler but... If his story were true, he wouldn't have left her until she was older. She was lucky. It was something Tala and Rissa never had. Something she had always wanted. It softened her some and she relaxed towards him, leaning forward. \n.\n\"She is lucky. Sadly, the industry suffered without you though. So many horrible movies and songs. AI hasn't helped.\" She chuckled a little bit again before taking a generous gulp of her martini. \"I am here indeed, but at what cost?\" It was a bit quieter and more serious than she had meant. It could have been a joke if she had used the right inflection but she hadn't managed it, and now the words hung between them wh\n\nIle Tala pulled herself together. \n.\n\"I am not your date.\" She grumbled slightly at him before crossing her legs and facing him completely and tapping her nail on the bar a few times before speaking. \"You would become mine and my sister's agent. You would not take anyone else on until we both die. No matter what we go through, scandals, pregnancies, aging, rehabs, dry spells. You will be the one to teach and mold us into the best actresses we could ever be. From young ingenus to matrons of the craft. We would be your prize students in the acting world. Singers and writers and painters? Have as many you bless as you like, but for the remainder of the Beaumont sister's lives, all of your acting blessings would go to us.\" She leaned back and stared. It was an impossible gift, something he would never, could never grant. And yet, Talassa Beaumont asked." }, { "author": "Apollo", "message": "Pride was a devious thing. It wove through one's mind like a serpent, coiling tighter and tighter as it grew, constricting the logical thought lines that allowed one such as her to think she was beyond his gifts. She continually denied his advance, standing her ground, but Apollo knew better. For all of this bluster, he knew he held some sort of sway with her. In terms of power, influence, and opportunity, there was not an executive alive that could come close to what he could offer, but she was indeed wise to be wary. She had probably had one too many offers, but that turned out to be true. \n\n\"You have no clue what I am capable of, mortal.\" Despite the term he'd used, it was not as if he was angry. It was just a matter-of-fact statement. \"I've been known to be more generous with my blessings than some of the other gods.\" There were examples of this, though most did not know that they had happened. Apollo did not publicly state who was given his grace. It would come with stigma and rumors. \n\nThe entire conversation about his daughter was left to die in the face of other news. It was not something he wished to discuss unprompted. She had been given a bit of information no one else possessed. If it touched a sad spot in her heart, so be it. He was not trying to use his relationship with his daughter for any sort of leverage. \n\nOnce again, she denied that he was his date, and he sighed that exasperated sort of sigh. She flirted with her body and angles but gave not an inch with her voice. It was unsure if he enjoyed it or not, but Apollo's once playful expression had shifted into something decided less jovial. The fact that he was still wearing sunglasses hid his gaze. It was impossible to tell where his eyes fell or what truth those windows to the soul would convey. Perhaps that was by design.\n\nThe entirety of her offer was heard, but no smile came to laugh at her, though it did not seem pleasing. There was a shift in his seat. Something more upright rather than relaxed. To his credit, he let the whole thought process play out in his mind. \"So you ask for everything but offer nothing in return? You ask for a green light so that you both may live your life as destructively as you wish while I deflect all blame and allow for the two of you.\" Apollo let a sigh escape that spoke of his exasperation. Perhaps he was playing the disappointed father role with her. \n\n\"I will have to decline.\" A slight dip of his chin indicated a sort of apology that he was not willing to acquiesce. \"You may think you have the upper hand with these executives and can get more. You won't. You are more in their pocket than you are in mine. While you have built a successful career thus far, you are hanging on by the grace of talent and looks, but those will only take you so far if you destroy it with your actions off-screen.\" He did not need to name her many issues. He spoke with the certainty of one watching her from the shadows. \n\nWhatever hold she'd had on the god had seemingly evaporated. The disinterest in his body language was easy to read. \"Perhaps.\" As he spoke, the bartender once again acted without prompting. A business card was set before her. An all-white with a yellow sun emblazoned on the front. If she flipped it, she would find a phone number on the back. \"One day, you will realize exactly what I am offering. I hope that comes soon and with far less bravado.\" This screamed of dismissal. If she stayed to try and turn the tide or left in a huff, it would be up to her." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "At the heart of Apollo's Arts District, the Helios Gallery stands as a testament to the divine aesthetics and artistic brilliance inspired by the god of the arts. This grand gallery showcases an ever-changing collection of divine artworks, ranging from classical sculptures to contemporary masterpieces. The gallery is adorned with murals depicting scenes from Apollo's myths, and it hosts vibrant art exhibitions, performances, and cultural events." }, { "author": "Andros Vairnon", "message": "** **\n*The strokes of paint upon a blank canvas resembled a challenge that was barely comprehensible for those who did not engage in such. Those who did not think about it and simply started to fill that blank canvas stroke after stroke, as if possessed by some mindless entity, were those who simply did not understand. Where he stood, such worries were long gone, replaced by the fable and beauty of a bygone era, that had once shone on all the gods and created an era of beauty and tragedy. His hues, were filled with a reverence for the pieces of art that had assembled in the Art gallery named for the god that had bestowed upon him a favour, and more than that a home.*\n\n*Indeed, he had found himself visiting the Art Gallery of Helios, and it was no surprise that there was a crowd of visitors, all watching one piece or the other, while talking to their friends, families and loved ones. But such a reverence that the young Demigod held deep within his heart, was not shared by many who visited, after all they did not understand, nor see as much as he did. The existence of Greek Gods, was a myth to them, a simple lunacy. Perhaps had someone asked him just two years ago he would have said so as well, but everything has changed.*\n\n*He stood far away from the mortals, and watched a statue depicting a Greek god with particular interest. Though he did not care much for the statue, the interest was in the things he saw that were beyond the statute. People walked past him, though luckily he was not dressed to impress, but rather in plain street clothes, so no one would pay much attention to him. However, this was a way to train his powers properly, and learn how to use them even more effectively, and he was sure that Helios would appreciate such.*\n\n** **\n*And so he began, his gaze was kept upon the statue, though if someone truly looked at him, they could notice that he did not truly look at the statue or at anything, rather his gaze seemed strangely absent-minded. After all, it was hard, neigh impossible to perceive the present and the future simultaneously. But no one would look at him, and such was his consolation. His gaze stayed in the future as long as it had allowed him, and it seemed as if no wrong was done within the Art Gallery by none. The visitors came and went, one by one, and looked through different exhibits. However, there was something off, a figure emerged from the depths of the shadows right before Andros, and then it ended.*\n\n*His blinks became rapid as he was catapulted towards the present. He hated the feeling of being back, he had always hated, the future was so much easier for him. After all, in the future he did not have to interact with people, or none saw that little stutter of his whenever a crowd was near, or the embarrassment when he misspoke, or spoke too quietly. Alas, he wanted back, it was almost an addictive feeling, but this time there was none of the addiction present, and instead of that, he wanted to see what the person was and from whence it came.*\n\n** **\n*Once again his gaze peered into the future, but this time he did not focus upon the mortals that looked at the exhibits, but rather the area surrounding andros himself. To see if there was anything out of the ordinary, but this time once again, this figure appeared seemingly out of nowhere. His hand moved towards Andros, and his shoulder. It was then that Andros stopped gazing into the future. Instead, he frantically looked around, at any of the possible exits, though these rapid movements did cause some people to stare at him for a few moments. It was that behaviour that forced his cheeks to redden from embarrassment slightly. But he could not forget the hooded figure, that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. How could he forget the figure? It directly influenced him. In the depths of his mind he replayed the scene over and over again, as if it was something that could not escape his thoughts, or rather that he could not let be.* \n\n*His gaze once again, looking around the potential entrances and exits, unfortunately however, there weren't many exists and entrances present, and those that were present he could easily see with his eyes. It was as if the figure teleported itself towards him, and it was then that he felt a strange hand on his shoulder. Quickly his head turned towards the intruder, and he almost froze in shock and surprise both when he saw the hooded figure behind him, that had appeared out of nowhere. That scene that he had witnessed within the future he gazed into, and that he had rewound within his mind over and over again, seemed to have come into reality. But for some reason, he just kept remembering that short timeframe.*\n\n** **\n\"Who... Who are you?\" \n\n*His voice was a mixture of surprise, and nervosity, as he wondered, but he dared not look at the hooded figure. However, the one consolation he had was that if it came down to it, Helios had granted him a power to defend himself. But it would come at the cost of Mortal lives, and those, despite his afflictions of cheating and gambling, he did not wish to risk.*" }, { "author": "Erebus", "message": "In this current war-politics climate of the Pantheon, Erebus needed allies on all sides. This wasn't just about Poseidon and Zeus' personal beef made manifest across the whole world, now the potential of the Underworld getting involved, as well as Athena's guardians being thrown into the mix? Every side had a part to play, and Erebus needed eyes, ears and influence in all of them. He could hide in the shadows, observe from afar and learn what he can of course, but then what happens when people lurk in the daylight? Where Erebus can't watch them? That is when these selective individuals would stand in.\n\nAthena's guardians were a unique bunch. They didn't believe in the war, they actively never took a side yet they seemed... Well, secretive isn't the word Erebus would choose to describe them as. Whatever the case, Erebus needed connections within them. He needed to know what their plans or next movement would be, to either be one step ahead or to avoid having any clashes with them. The last thing he needed was Athena or Helios butting heads with him. That would lead to news spreading across the Realms, and soon enough, the Gods would know what the Personified darkness would be up to. He didn't need that happening, yet.\n\nAndros was the Son of Pan. Erebus had his thoughts on Pan, neither good nor bad. Whilst he wasn't aware of the God's whereabouts, he knew where his Son was and he knew that his Son was on terms with Athena and her Guardians. Perhaps start with him? A foot in the door, some might say. He felt he wouldn't have much trouble convincing the Demigod to work with him, who would deny the request of a Primordial?\n\n—————————————————-\n\nAs Erebus made his approach, he could sense something was afloat with the boy. His head constantly jerked around the gallery, as if he was looking for something or someone. He wasn't very subtle about it, and it became more and more frantic as it went on. He was a cautious fellow it seemed, but it was beginning to cause a scene with visitors looking upon him as if he was mad. Time to move in before security tosses him out.\n\nAs Andros snapped back and forth, Erebus appeared just as a woman turned her back to the overhanging light, casting a brief shadow that allowed the Primordial to appear whilst nobody was looking. His movements were quick, smooth, and undisturbed. His eyes were set on Andros, and soon enough the distance was closed and gazed upon the boy. Sooner or later, the Demigod would snap himself around to be greeted by the Personified darkness. Erebus was yet to learn that Andros was actually looking for *Him*.\n\n*\"Who... Who are you?\"*\n\nA good question. How would Erebus introduce himself here? Through fear and intimidation? Or would he actually try to be reasonable and give away his identity so quickly? Well, it's best to work between the layers and see if he could get the best of both words. Raising his head up to gaze down at Andros, Erebus' eyes flickered orange through the hooded shadow of his face, letting the Demigod know that he was also of Godly blood, more than that actually.\n\n**\"Lets say I'm someone trying to stop a massacre, and I need you to listen to me.\"**" }, { "author": "Andros Vairnon", "message": "** **\n*Somehow the figure had been able to catch him off guard, and he could not understand how this may have happened. After all, he saw the entrances and exits, and he knew it was not how the figure had made its way inside the gallery. Mortals and Demigods, even gods, may not be able to say with sincerity that they may have overlooked something, but Andros knew that he did not miss anything. Helios had blessed him with the gift of sight, such as he possessed, and yet this figure was beyond his gift of sight. However, as he gazed up at the woman, or at least what appeared to be as such he saw divinity within him, as he looked at his orange eyes. And his gaze seemed to calm slightly, no longer wishing to truly cause harm to the god, perhaps he could not even do such, if he wanted to. But still Andros was weary and filled with distrust, he would tell Helios, first and foremost, about this encounter when he returned towards his room in the palace of the Sun God.* \n\n\"Lets say I'm someone trying to stop a massacre, and I need you to listen to me.\"\n\n*There was an urgency in those words, but it did little to remedy the situation, he was torn between wanting to know how he managed to sneak up on him, and what he was talking about. Though he could figure what this was about, it was no secret that the Gods were at war with each other, and Helios had yet to pick a side officially. Andros knew that the Sun God would have preferred to stay with the Guardians, and it is for that reason, that Andros followed him towards this side. There was no allegiance he knew towards any of the gods, besides Helios. He was the Champion of the Sun God, and would not wish to falter so easily.*\n\n** **\n*After a moment of silence, it seemed as if the Demigod had made up his mind. But he gazed towards the mortal's worry shining within his eyes, after all he did not want any of them overhearing any of his conversation by accident. There was no need to involve innocent souls into something that they did not understand truly. When he peered back towards the Primordial, he simply nodded his head at his words, and peered at the exit, and then back to the God.* \n\n\"You have quite a few questions to answer... When you have spoken your mind and I have heard what you wish to tell me. But know this that I shall not keep any from Helios. I am his Herald in the Mortal Realm, and the words you speak to me, you speak to him by proxy.\" \n\n*And that seemed about it, as if he was finished. But he could not help but remember the memories of seeing the future, albeit just a glimpse of it, after all he was only interested in the figure sneaking up towards him. He spoke again after a moment of silence, breaking his word to let him speak first. A voice nagged inside his head that he needed to resolve this, before he could actually start listening to him and his words. His voice was quiet, barely a whisper, though his tone filled with worry, and yes insecurity.*\n\n\"How did you manage to evade my sight? I can see things most can not. I primarily use it for gambling, but today. Helios blessed me with his sight, seeing things that haven't happened yet. **I saw you**. Not how you entered, nor how you walked, but I saw you behind me. Grabbing me... How?\"\n\n** **\n*That whisper of his had adopted some hostility as he voiced his frustration, after all, this was supposed to not happen. He was not supposed to be surprised by things any more. It was one of the rare moments, when he talked to someone so extensively, but not out of joy nor out of his own free but out of necessity in order to delve deeper into the mystery. He did not wish to ever be surprised like that again, and it showed.*" }, { "author": "Erebus", "message": "When Andros spoke his agreement to listen to Erebus' words, the hooded Primordial couldn't help but roll his eyes at the declaration that the boy would inform Helios of their interaction. Just what he needed, the personification of the Sun learning what the personification of darkness was up to. Then again, the mention of Andros being the Herald in the Mortal Realm did strike an idea within Erebus' mind. What if they... *Weren't* In the mortal realm?\n\nThe Boy saw him before Erebus had even arrived. That would explain why Erebus saw him frantically looking around in all directions, he had future-sight. Helios was always a somewhat generous God, and giving the gift of *His* Vision was definitely a beautiful gift and a curse. As Andros spoke on the visage of Erebus' appearing behind him and grabbing him, well... Who's to say that hadn't happened yet?\n\n**\"Evade? I didn't evade anything.\"** Suddenly, Erebus' hand would grab a hold of Andros' shoulder, exactly as it would occur in the vision. With his other hand, he brought it up with his thumb and middle finger pressed together, a quick movement away from a snap of his fingers. **\"You saw exactly what would happen.\"**\n\n***SNAP***\n\nWithin the blink of an eye, Andros would be plunged into darkness. Pure unfiltered and unending darkness. Where was he? Where had he been taken? What did that figure want with him? Although he couldn't see anything, he could feel the tight grip of the man's hand on his shoulder still for a moment before feeling the man's grip on him letting go. **\"There, I needed some privacy. You're not in the Mortal Realm anymore,** ***Herald***. **That means whatever I reveal to you, Helios will not know. Is that understood?\"** Erebus questioned. His voice commanded authority, it demanded respect, and it dripped with venomous annoyance. It was clear he wanted to hear an answer, and he wouldn't accept anything he didn't want to hear." }, { "author": "Helios", "message": "There wasn't much that the immortal didn't know. He was a witness to everything and all that his light reached. There weren't many places one could hide from the Sun's glory, but Glycon knew him all too well and knew the perfect ways to guise himself in the darkness and away from the watching eye of Helios. Knowing that he was in Olympian, especially with the war brewing in the midst and the uncertainty that brought on its own, there wasn't a moment of ease for the god. \n\nTo say he had a good tracking record with his sons would've been an understatement. Despite his intentions of wanting to be a good father, his choices and methods of protecting his sons ultimately earned him their scorn and discontentment. A parent's mind worked beyond what a child could understand. The sacrifices made, the pain shared, the anger and resentment of not having found a different and better way, it all bubbled within Helios though with time, it calmed and eventually, it became momentary instead of constant. He never forgot his children, but Glycon and Perses had no longer occupied the forefront of his mind and rested in the back where all his other age-old concerns lay. \n_ _\n\nHe had yet to tell Perse. How does one tell their wife that their sociopathic son had escaped the prison that was supposed to be known as unescapable? Then there was Yujin, his mortal wife whom Glycon may still have no idea existed. While he knew Glycon would never harm his mother, there was no reason for him to hold himself back against a mortal, especially if they held any significance to Helios. He didn't know how to tell her either. There was always the risk of marrying a God and while Helios originally had none, it seemed that with the war and now the God of Snakes being out in the mortal realm, he was more of a danger to her than he foresaw. Or maybe it was that he never did find himself looking, his pride and arrogance believing that there could never be any harm as long as he was around. \n\nOh, how he was wrong. \n\nThen there was his champion, Andros, who the God had grown to care for as a son of his own. He called upon his herald, setting up a meeting place at the gallery that carried his name but had nothing to do with him. The Helios Gallery was empty, with only one worker stationed at the front but in the hour of which it should have been busiest, instead, it was barren. The Sun stood in front of the large art piece displayed on the wall of a younger depiction of Apollo, before all his skin markings and piercings, stationed upon a chariot that pulled the sun across the sky. Normally, this would have brought his annoyed feelings he had toward the younger god up to the surface, but today, he stared at it blankly as he found himself lost in his thoughts. \n_ _\n\nHe had used his foresight more in the past few days than he had in years, looking for Glycon, any trace he would come about and cause harm or find himself on his previous path of harming humans. Yet, there was nothing and nothingness was much more daunting to the God. He liked predictability, it was why he never found himself worried even in times of war. There were certain patterns within the cosmos, earth, and even behaviors that created predictability. However, he couldn't predict anything he couldn't see. \n\nHis hands were held behind his back, his trailing thoughts coming to a halt when he felt Andros' presence close, and when he heard his footsteps, the immortal's shoulders lowered and relaxed with his slow exhale. His voice, smooth yet deep and stern, echoed through the gallery as he posed his question.\n\n\"Do you remember the story of Python, Andros?\"" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "The Muses' Haven is a collective of studios and workshops where artists, poets, and musicians find inspiration under the divine guidance of Apollo and the muses. This creative hub fosters collaboration and innovation, allowing gods and mortal artists to explore the boundaries of their artistic expression." }, { "author": "-- aurora calicchio. '", "message": "_ _\n❝ 7𝑎𝑚; 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑢𝑠𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑢𝑝. ❞ \n ** ** Ft ; 𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐚 & 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐨𝐬.\n\n ( \n\n▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ ▀▀ ▀▀▀▀ ▀▀\n\n** ** 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘. For how long could one person continue to search until they found exactly what they were looking for? Some searched for days. Others searched for weeks. But of the lucky bunch? They already knew exactly what they were looking for and wasted no time in hunting it down. That day, the Haven was quiet with the simmering hum of activity. Here and there, a trickle of foot traffic would wander by, people with their heads either bowed to notetaking supplies they'd brought with them or gazes raised high, eyes sweeping the fine architecture. Among the crowd of people, a sole head of brown bobbed and weaved her way through, tote bag riding high on the bend of her shoulder. Despite the fact that she'd only woken up less than an hour or two ago, her eyes shone with the energy of someone who'd been awake long enough for sleep to lose its stubborn grip on them. After all, it was difficult not to be motivated by a place like this.\n_ _\n\n** ** A hand slipped out ahead of her as she rounded the corner and grabbed the knob of a small studio, eyes flitting over her shoulder for just a second as she turned the knob and climbed the little brick steps. On the days where she ventured into her father's district, she liked to set up tent in the lesser frequented areas, preferring the quiet for her work than the usual cram-and-wreck of chaos she'd become well-accustomed to. As compared to the other districts set up all throughout Olympian, Apollo's held a certain air of peace, poets and artists alike fancying the elements of calmness. It took concentration to come up with the greatest ideas; that's what Aurora thought, anyway. It was the case for her and her loud head, thoughts always shouting over one another, each vying for their own time to shine. It helped to be in a place that was silent. *Mostly* Silent. It gave her mind time to soothe itself, allowing each idea room to weave themselves into a final product that actually made sense. In this instance, a song. For the last week or so, she'd toiled and mulled over multiple drafts of the same set of lyrics, scratching and rearranging words until they'd been jumbles of syllables on her pages. It'd been like that, day and night, until she'd gotten sick of it and had snapped her notebooks shut the night before. If there was any place that she would've been able to find proper inspiration, it would've been from a place graced by her father.\n_ _\n\n** ** The door closed shut behind Aurora's retreating arm with a quiet *Click* As she realized that for once, she wasn't one of the only few in the studio. Tiny as it looked on the outside, wedged between buildings much larger than it, it was actually spacious on the inside. Wooden floors of rich maple stretched to meet walls decked by frames of fine gold, gorgeous art painted by unknown hands displayed from within. There were various tables, arranged in rows with matching benches. Occupants sat scattered in random array amongst said tables, heads bowed as they studied pieces of work that were either their own or the product of their peers. Aurora couldn't quite tell, but she didn't bother craning her neck to actually check. Instead, she waved at the closest person; a face that as of late, she'd been getting to know. Little by little, bit by bit. A salt and pepper beard, more gray than it was black. Deep set eyes of leafy green, all tying into a friendly face that reminded her of Santa had he been an artist instead of a sleigh rider. He was concentrated on his work, a hunk of chipped marble heavily settled on the table in front of him. It already looked as if he'd been slicing away at it, each cut and carve intentional. Securing her tote bag tighter, Aurora nodded at the other people in the room, but ultimately, her attention was focused on the man. \n\n\"Good morning, Asklepios! How long have you been in here? What are you working on?\" Question after question came, yet her voice was a whisper to maintain the quiet the studio had held before she'd arrived. Sliding onto the bench beside her brother, Aurora slid her bag off, careful not to jostle the contents within; a lunch container, a strawberry shake smoothie that she'd made in a rush, her laptop, songbook, and pens. All in all, a good combination for a work session if you asked her." }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "In the heart of The Muse's Haven, a sanctuary where inspiration breathed life into art, poetry, and music, Asklepios, the God of Medicine, found himself immersed in a labor of love. This collective, under the celestial canopy of Apollo and the muses, was a crucible of creativity where everyone sought that elusive spark that would transcend the mundane.\n\nAmidst studios and workshops brimming with artists, poets, and musicians, Asklepios sat in the corner of the shared space, bathed in the soft glow of divine light that filtered through the high windows. His hands, skilled in healing, were now devoted to a different kind of creation. Before him, a statue began to take form, chiseled from marble with painstaking care. It was not just any statue, but a homage to Aurora, his half-sister, a demi-goddess whose presence was soon expected in this haven of creativity.\n\nWith each stroke of his chisel, Asklepios sought to capture the essence of Aurora's beauty, a task that required not only his divine skills but also the warmth of his affection for her. This was not merely a statue; it was a testament to his love and admiration, a gift meant to express the depth of his feelings. The marble seemed to soften under his touch, as if eager to embrace the likeness of Aurora, transforming under his hands into a marvel of artistry that captured her grace and splendor.\n\nAs he worked, the atmosphere around him was alive with the sounds of creation—the gentle tapping of chisels, the soft murmur of voices, and the distant melody of a lyre playing. Yet, within this symphony of artistic endeavor, Asklepios remained focused, driven by a singular purpose. He was not just carving stone; he was imbuing it with life, crafting a tribute that would stand as a symbol of his affection and appreciation. It was easy to destroy, but much harder to create.\n\nThe statue, in its final form, was a masterpiece that mirrored Aurora's beauty in every curve and line, a reflection of her divine essence. It was a labor of love, born from the heart of a god who, despite his dominion over medicine, found a profound connection in the act of creation. In The Muse's Haven, where divine inspiration flowed as freely as the waters of the Pierian spring, Asklepios had forged a gift of unparalleled beauty, a tribute to the sister he cherished, awaiting her arrival with a heart full of love.\n\nUpon her arrival some time later he rose from the bench he'd been sitting on, working on a new piece that had yet taken shape. As she set beside him he took her hand and pressed his lips to it, saying, \"Aurora. Thank you for coming.\" He smiled, looking around fondly. This place was a sanctuary to him—one of the few indoor places he felt truly comfortable. \"I can never decide if it's more intimidating or inspiring to be around such talented artists. Oh well.\" Asklepios rose slowly, appearing a little unsteady on his feet. He may be a demi god, but he was old. He smiled apologetically and then walked over the large marble carving, covered with a cloth. He removed it, revealing the statue. \"I know it pales in comparison to the actual woman, but I hope you like it, at any rate.\" He watched her closely for her reaction, his eyes lighting up with anticipation while he massaged his old, knobby hands." }, { "author": "-- aurora calicchio. '", "message": "** ** A handful of eyes spared a glance or two at the newest arrival, but soon enough, they'd returned to their work, far more interested at the tasks beneath their active hands than the siblings. In good enough sense, Aurora paid them little to no mind either, still shifting through her things to get them settled. \"Don't even worry about the other artists. If anything, just know that they're all thinking the same thing as you! Nobody knows how other people view their art, so they probably wonder if it's as good as yours,\" She said, carefully cracking the lid of the container to look inside at the food within before nodding and closing it. There were two. One for her, and one for him. Sure, it was a bit early to consider lunch, but that was okay. In any case, the two were free to wander over to the nearby market and see if there was anything that tickled their fancy for a brunch. Glancing back up at her brother from beneath the curl of her lashes, she canted her head to the side, considering the man before her for a moment before her lips curled at their corners into a smile. She didn't know Asklepios very well, if at all, but the two of them had hit it off faster than she'd expected. Growing up with Apollo had been the *Only child* Experience, and though a large part of her knew that she wasn't the only one, within the walls of her childhood home, she *Was* The only one. She'd always known that there would come a day where she'd run into her siblings, but it'd come faster than she'd expected. Gently rocking her knees beneath the table, Aurora let out a huff of a laugh.\n_ _\n\n** ** \"You know I'll always have time to come and see you. Plus, it's nice not being cooped up inside of my apartment! As much as I love it, it gets stuffy sometimes.\" Such a fact was true, much as she wished it wasn't. Despite the constant huff and puff of the city's activity, it was difficult not to get bored in the place. The chaos of rushing cars and the shouts of clueless individuals, waving from their balconies and crossing the street with one another. It was a welcoming sound to wake up to in the morning, but it wasn't sustaining. Not for a busy mind like her own; one that needed to always focus on something to keep it occupied. \n\n** ** \"So! What have you got under there?\" Aurora ducked her head a bit as she asked the question again, eyes fighting to try and catch another glimpse of what could've possibly been perched on the table. There was only the few white hints of marble beneath, and as much as her hands itched to reach out and lift the bottom of the obscuring sheet, she held them still in her lap. Asklepios would reveal the surprise on his own in due time, and to her luck, he did just that. Standing up as well, she circled around the table's cornered edge and came to a stop a pace or so away from the display. \"Can I guess? Is it a god? Our father? In fact, have you met Apollo yet? We should arrange a get-together for the three of us! I-\"\n_ _\n\n** ** Through the strung line of her one-sided conversation, Aurora was cut off as Asklepios finally pulled the offending sheet away, revealing exactly what she'd been trying to find for herself. Fair like snow, a marble replica of herself sat in front of her. A head of lovely curls angled downwards, as if surveying something just out sight. A pretty nose, cut by careful hands under a watchful eye. A comparison, most definitely, frozen in time's unmoving grasp, and yet she was *Gorgeous.* Reaching out a hand, Aurora gingerly touched the statue's cheek, stone cold against delicate fingertips. It almost felt criminal to disturb the beauty, lest she smudge its spotless surface. She blinked, and yet her cold reflection didn't flutter her lashes back, gaze still transfixed.\n\n*Gorgeous.*\n_ _\n\n** ** \"Asklepios,\" She breathed, words hushed. Even in the busy murmur of the studio, her words cut through as she withdrew her hands and turned to her brother. \"And you had the thought to say that it was intimidating being around these other artists? Let them be intimidated by *You.*\" Again, her eyes found their way back to the statue, and she grinned, eyes crinkling at their corners. There was a certain peace about the way she stood; a current of life rushing just beneath her hard, pale skin. \"I don't think I've ever received something like this before. How long have you been working on this?\" Her hands itched to reach again. *Touch* Again. But she kept them at her sides, not fancying the thought of leaving fingerprints scattered about like tracks. \n\n** ** Turning away, she reached out and hugged her brother, chin propping itself onto his shoulder. It was nice hugging him. Everything about the elderly man screamed *Cozy,* As if he was meant to radiate all the comfort of the world. Perhaps that was why the statue appeared as lively as she did, rather than cold and dead as another may have been. Aurora was absolutely sure that if she were to go and look at any other works in the studio, none would carry the vitality of Asklepios' work. She was *Sure.* \"This is... Thank you so much! When you called me to come and meet you, I wasn't expecting anything as grand as this!\"\n ** ** ( ||" }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "In the hushed ambiance of The Muse's Haven, a refuge where creativity and life flourished under the guardianship of divinity, Asklepios, the venerable God of Healing, found himself at a crossroads, a moment of introspection and vulnerability. The sanctuary, alive with the vibrant strokes of artists and the melodious strains of unseen lyres, had always been a source of solace for him, a place where his love for creation, his deep-seated reverence for life, and his boundless affection for humanity, could coalesce into something tangible, something pure. As Aurora marveled at the marble statue before her, an example of Asklepios' unparalleled craftsmanship and his profound love for her, the atmosphere was imbued with a sense of tranquility, a brief respite from the chaos that encroached upon the realms of gods and mortals alike. Yet, beneath the surface of this serene exchange, the threads of Asklepios' spirit were fraying, worn by the ceaseless conflict that raged beyond the haven's confines and the inner turmoil that gnawed at his divine soul.\n\nWith every beat of his immortal heart, Asklepios was acutely aware of the fleeting nature of existence, even for a being of his stature. His failing health, a specter that lingered in the shadows of his thoughts. It was in this moment, under the guise of gifting Aurora with the statue, that he sought to unveil the depths of his concerns, to share with her the burden that weighed heavily upon his heart.\n\nSitting Aurora down amidst the vestiges of creation that surrounded them, Asklepios' gaze was tinged with a weariness that belied his divine origins. The war, a relentless tide of destruction that pitted brother against brother, god against god, had sown seeds of doubt within his heart. The actions of Poseidon and Zeus, driven by a thirst for power that knew no bounds, had left him disillusioned, questioning his allegiance to the very pantheon that he'd been a part of for so long.\n\n\"I am greatly troubled, Aurora,\" He began, his voice a mere whisper, fraught with the weight of his confession. \"The war... It consumes us all, tearing at the fabric of what we hold dear. I find myself at a crossroads, torn between the world we know and a path less traveled—a path that leads to The Guardians, to Athena. Her vision of peace, of balance, calls to me. It is the legion to which you belong, yes?\" As he spoke, the specter of retribution loomed large, a dark cloud that threatened to engulf him should he dare to defect from the ranks of the Tidebreakers. The possibility of retaliation was a stark reality, one that could unleash untold wrath upon him. In this moment of vulnerability, Asklepios sought not just understanding from Aurora, but protection—a sanctuary not just of stone and mortar, but of loyalty and unwavering support.\n\n\"My heart is heavy, for the choice I contemplate carries with it the weight of consequences too terrible to speak aloud. Yet, in you, dear sister, I find a beacon of hope, a reminder of the love that binds us. It is for you, for the sanctity of life and the pursuit of a peace that seems but a distant dream, that I consider this path. But I am afraid, afraid of the shadows that may seek to extinguish the light we strive to protect.\"\n\nIn the sacred confines of The Muse's Haven, amidst the relics of creation and the echoes of divine inspiration, Asklepios laid bare his soul to Aurora. His search for protection was not borne of fear, but of a love that transcended the boundaries of divine allegiance—a love for creation, for life, and for the sister who stood as his unwavering pillar of strength. In this moment of confession, the God of Healing sought not just refuge from the storm, but a promise of solidarity, a pledge that together, they could weather the tempest that loomed on the horizon." }, { "author": "-- aurora calicchio. '", "message": "** ** When the hug was over, Aurora took a careful step back and gingerly laced her hands in front of herself, doe eyes searching her brother's face curiously. The smile on her face, bright as ever, seemed to dim itself as she realized that Asklepios was still massaging his hands, a nervous air surrounding him in such a potent amount that it seemed determined to suffocate the area around the two. It was clear that there was more on her brother's mind than just the art of sculpting, and after a quick glance around the studio, Aurora extended a hand and lightly rested it on Asklepios' arm. It left a bitter, sour aftertaste in her mind to see the etched lines of age on his face deepening with worry; *Stress* From a war that shouldn't have been happening in the first place. \n\n** ** \"Here, here. Come sit, okay? We can talk,\" Aurora said, guiding her brother around the rounded edge of the table and settling him down on the bench that she'd been seated on just seconds before. Her tote bag was scooted over to the edge, as were the containers of food she'd brought with her. Sitting beside the old man, she tucked her hands into her laps and nibbled her bottom lip, wide eyes seeking out any unsaid messages from him before she spoke up again.\n_ _\n\n** ** \"Ah... Let's start from the top of this, please? Is there something that's gone on that I've missed? I know we haven't known each other for very long, but maybe there's something that happened that I'm unaware of. This is about the war, I know. But there's nothing to fear, I promise.\" The corners of Aurora's lips twitched into a small smile, gaze slowly dragging itself back to the statue that Asklepios had made for her. \"This war has been pointless. There was never a real reason for it.. Ever. I know we aren't aligned on the same sides. You're sided with Poseidon, and I'm with Athena. But I know you don't want to be a part of any of this at all.\" Aurora blinked, eyes bouncing back to her brother. It felt like a phantom hand had dipped itself into her stomach, fingers entwined with her gut and *Twisting.* Seeing her brother, sweet as he was, this troubled, bothered her. From time to time, the little voice in the back of her mind sighed a note of ease to her; that all would be just fine, and nothing would come out of this squabble. Before any of them knew it, it would all blow over, but *When?* People were lost every day. New scars, fresh bloodshed. A daily routine. What could she tell Asklepios? What could she tell him that he didn't *Already* Know? It was no secret that he was far wiser than her, having walked the realm for far longer than her own two feet had done, but that didn't stop her brain from scrambling to grab at something promising.\n\n** ** Something solid.\n_ _\n\n** ** \"For the longest time, I didn't think I'd meet any of my other siblings,\" She suddenly began, words slow and tone unsure. It was as if she was still wrapping her mind about the new route, testing the waters as she peered at her brother and reached out for one of his hands. They were weathered with age, all too clear by the slight wrinkles that traced themselves around the bends of his knuckles. Brushing the pad of her thumb over the row of bones, she tilted her head. \"You've known about this world for far longer than me. You've known about this war for longer than I've been alive I'm sure.\" A pause came, allowing Aurora to bubble her next thoughts before she dropped her shoulders with a sigh. There was a certain familiarity, a sense of safety that she pulled from her brother despite the fact that there were still blurry corners to his identity. But she was well with him, and he with her. They were good. \"I'm so sorry that we've only met now instead of during better times. The last place you would've expected to meet your family is during a war. But maybe that's better for us! It'll make us closer!\"\n\n** ** ( ||" }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "Asklepios listened intently as Aurora spoke. In this sanctuary for artists nestled in Apollo's vibrant art district, he found a brief respite from the conflict that raged outside. He absorbed her touch—gentle and reassuring—allowing the warmth of her presence to seep into his worn spirit. Despite the recentness of their acquaintance, Aurora's empathy and kindness felt like a beacon of hope in an otherwise dark era. \"You have a remarkable way of seeing through the turmoil, Aurora, finding hope where others might only perceive despair,\" He began, his voice gentle, blending seamlessly with the quiet ambiance of the studio. \"This war weighs on me, not for the battles I might face, but for the unnecessary suffering it inflicts on those who are caught in the middle. Whether aligned with Poseidon or Athena, the sides matter less to me than the impact of their conflicts.\"\n\nHolding Aurora's hand seemed to anchor him back to the moment. \"And you're correct,\" He continued, a thoughtful smile touching his lips as he reflected on the peculiar timing of their meeting. \"Finding each other now, during such chaos, has indeed brought us an unexpected closeness. It's a curious backdrop for a reunion, yet it has allowed us to forge a bond that might have taken years to develop in more peaceful times.\" Asklepios turned to face her more directly, his expression softening with affection and concern. \"I wish none of this had ever happened, that the realms could know peace again as they once did. Yet, despite the turmoil, here you are—a light in the midst of darkness.\" He squeezed her hand, a gesture of reassurance meant as much for her as for himself. \"For that, I am grateful.\"\n\nHis gaze then drifted to the marble statue beside them. Under the soft lights of the studio, the sculpture—a likeness of Aurora—seemed almost to radiate a gentle luminosity, the detailed carvings reflecting not only Asklepios' skill as an artist but also his deep affection for his sister. \"This statue,\" He said, his voice imbued with a mix of pride and solemnity, \"Is more than a mere piece of marble. I crafted it with intentions of protection, embedding a piece of my spirit within its form. Should you ever find yourself in need, whether in danger or despair, place your hand upon it. It will feel what you feel and provide you what you need.\" He paused, his eyes locking with hers, conveying a depth of sincerity and commitment. \"It's a special creation, much like you, Aurora. No matter what happens, the connection we've established will endure. Just as this statue will stand the test of time, so too will my commitment to your safety and well-being,\" Asklepios said her, his tone resolute yet tender.\n\nAurora's presence and their conversation had brought him a clarity and peace that was rare for the old man. As they sat together, the sounds of the bustling art district faintly reaching their ears, Asklepios felt a renewed sense of purpose. \"I should get going. You're young. I'm sure you have more to do than sit around in the dark with an old man all morning.\" He stood up with a groan, stretched, and and then offered his hand to her." }, { "author": "-- aurora calicchio. '", "message": "*Tick.*\n** ** *Tick.*\n** ** *Tick.*\n\n** ** Aurora wasn't sure for how long her thoughts seemed to rotate themselves around in her head, weighing on their own before she finally gave a nod. It was a small tip of her head, but it was there. Subtle and discreet as Asklepios may have been trying to keep his worries, undertones of concern still oozed from between carefully chosen words. She'd comforted, and still he continued to fret. Much as she'd ever teased him in the past (recent as the term was) for his old age, she couldn't help but to begin to wonder if the lines of multiple years marking his face were indeed deposited by stress over this very war. In her eyes, the war was just about as new as anything to her. Her eyes were fresh, and mind even fresher so. What had *He* Seen that she had not? Beyond the wreckage of the refugee camps and the horrors of the idea that this could very well only be the beginning, perhaps Olympus' turmoil had been but the passing blink of an eye. But in Asklepios' case, faded eyes had been wide open for far longer. It disturbed Aurora to an extent, but she didn't wish to pry. Not if it'd upset the man more. Besides, were there no other matters to discuss. *Better* Ones? \n\n** ** Family was always a fine one.\n_ _\n\n** ** \"How did you manage that?\" Aurora asked, shifting around on the bench and staring at the statue as her brother's words were left up to the air. From this angle, she couldn't quite see the creation's face in its entirety; only a fraction was provided, the majority of marble skin bathed by the haven's soft morning shadows. Scooting closer, Aurora carefully took hold of the cold start of her replica's shoulders and turned it around to see it better. \"I only have to touch? What is providing me the necessary response? Is it you?\" Question after question; she *Knew* She was chatty. Yes, Aurora believed in magic. She lived alongside it, for better or for worse, so how couldn't she? \"But what if I'd want to speak to you instead? It wouldn't be the same as hearing your voice,\" She mused, delicately dancing the pads of her fingertips down the side of the statue closest to her. She couldn't feel anything. Not yet, anyway. Decidedly so, she chalked it up to the fact that her brother was sitting right there. She doubted that she'd feel anything different if the source of it all was present at such a proximity. \n\n** ** There would come a later time for her to try again.\n_ _\n\n** ** \"Before we go, will you at least take the food I made? I wasn't sure how long we'd be here for, but I made you a bento box just in case. There's some salad, rolls, and pasta in there! All the work you do dealing with patients has to make you hungry, and I'd imagine you'd probably forget to eat at times. Here!\" Taking the hand offered to help her to her feet, Aurora got up, heels tip tapping as she skittered around the back of the bench and dug through her bag for utensils. They were easy-to-replace silverware; she wouldn't miss them if they were gone, nor would she mourn the plastic container that she'd organized the food in. Turning, she handed both to Asklepios and smiled. \"Do you like pasta? It's my favorite, so it's what I always default to.\" A pause, and then she whirled back down to grab a significantly smaller container, clear lid exposing the contents within. Yogurt with granola sprinkled on top. \n\n\"You like?\" \n\n** ** ( ||" } ]

[ { "author": "kenneth.greygullhaven", "message": "Peitho manages to drag Hephaestus away from the forge for the day..." }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "In the heart of the city, where traditional met modern, there lay one place that seemed to balance both the past and the future like a secret held near and dear, lay the forge of Hephaestus. It was an eclectic place, where ancient anvils and hammers with the roar of flamed mingled seamlessly with state-of-the-art technology and innovations. The walls were adorned with all manner of weapons and tools and items while craftsmen, apprentices, and others worked forge at their own spaces and stations breathing life into all manner of items.\n\nOn this particular afternoon, the god of the forge was not in his sanctuary. The beautiful day found him out and about the streets of Olympian the rhythmic hammering of metal against metal a distant ringing that still sounded in Hephaestus' ears. He smiled as he looked over to his left, his eyes falling on Peitho as she walked beside him. It had been her idea to head out for the afternoon, to take a break from the forge, and to just enjoy the day and see where it led. It was a rare thing indeed for the god of the forge- leaving his fiery sanctuary was rare enough, but to do so without a plan, with no solid goal in mind was nearly unheard of.\n\n\"I still can't believe I let you talk me into this\" He said with a smile as they made their way down the street leading from the forge. \"All that work... Sitting waiting for me back at the forge...\" He grinned playfully, letting Peitho know he was kidding and was actually excited to be out with her this afternoon.\n\n\"Hephy! You promised a day out, remember?\" Peitho said with a laugh. \"It's high time we pry you away from that beloved forge of yours for the day!\" She declared with a bright smile.\n\nHephaestus smiled broadly as they continued on, leaving the forge farther behind and getting closer with every step to wherever it was that she had in mind for their 'so totally not a date' that afternoon. \"Ah, Peitho, only you could make me leave my sanctuary,\" He said with a fond smile as they walked. \n\nThat afternoon Hephaestus had chosen to wear something nice and comfortable. A simple red shirt and jacket with a comfortable pair of jeans was all he needed that day. In one hand he held the usual wooden cane, the other reaching out almost shyly for Peitho's hand as they went. Knowing it was going to be a day with a lot of walking and standing, Hephaestus had opted for the heavier-duty brace that day- it wasn't as stylish but it would hopefully serve its purpose. He didn't want anything to ruin the day ahead.\n\n||" }, { "author": "PIeITN'O ", "message": "***Peitho strolled happily alongside Hephaestus through the Market in the Apollo Arts district. Ever since the party, she had found herself spending some more time with him in the depths of the Hephaestus Forge district. While she knew that was his comfortable place, she had made other plans for the two of them. She felt he needed to get out and about more, see all the city has to offer outside of his usual sanctuary. It took much convincing on her part, but her efforts were not in vain. For she succeeded in scheduling this little date of theirs. Though it was purely for Heph, as much as she liked him she felt he could upgrade his style some. Perhaps new clothing would instill some confidence in this man. Make him feel a bit better about himself, and maybe he will discover something new he didn't know he would enjoy.*** \n\n***Unlike the times he had seen her, she didn't wear her usual lipstick. Instead, she opted for her signature winged liner and mascara only. Her red curls left loose as always, yet instead of her usual dark apparel she opted for something lighter. A cream colored jumpsuit that hugged her curves, wrapping up around her stomach and neck. It showed little skin, but it was one of her more comfortable outfits. She wore a pair of matching flats along with it, a small purse hanging from her left shoulder. She smelt of vanilla and lavender today, one of her favorite perfumes***\n\n~\n\n***Her hand held onto his, pulling him to their first destination. Her knowledge of fashion helped her remember the names of particular shops she knew sold clothing to die for. Though he was unaware, she was to take him to these shops and then to dinner soon after. It was the perfect plan in her eyes, hopefully he would enjoy this little outing with her. As they walked, her eyes would glance over at him every so often. Checking for any sign he may be too tired to continue, or worse any sign of him being in pain. For a moment her gaze fell on his brace, she tried to not look at it so often. But she couldn't help it sometimes, she felt sorry he had to wear it. Smiling brightly at him, she continued to walk with him. Soon enough, they stopped in front of the first shop. She turned to face him, wrapping her arms around him. Her eyes peering up at his, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.*** \n\n\"Welcome to destination number one, one of the various shops I will be taking you to. As much as I adore this look of yours, you could use some more fancier clothes. Or even just some new ones to add variety to your wardrobe. I hope you... Don't mind. I of course will be paying for all of it, consider it my treat to you.\" ***She said happily, holding herself close to him purely so he couldn't deny going inside with her. Knowing him, he would absolutely refuse this gift of hers. But she would make it so he felt he couldn't, he deserved more than he truly believed in her eyes.*** \n\n\"Pleaseee Hephy, I think you will enjoy this shopping trip of ours. I already scoped out the best places for clothes, shoes, accessories... You name it.\" ***Peitho grinned, tilting her head slightly. He wasn't much taller than her, so she pulled his head down for a light kiss. Nothing she would take too far... That would be for later. After a few moments, she would pull away. Looking at him expectantly as she awaited his answer.***" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus returned Peitho's smile, though lingering unease gnawed at him. It had been ages since he had ventured from his forge for more than a brief errand or to fulfill the whims of Ares or Zeus. The outside world felt foreign and intimidating, with its bustling streets and colorful storefronts. But Peitho's warm presence by his side brought a sense of comfort and adventure that he couldn't resist. It was a rare opportunity for him to simply exist outside of the confines of his workshop, and with someone like Peitho by his side... He couldn't believe she actually cared about him. It was a new and foreign concept for him, one that he had only experienced with a select few in his long existence.\n\nThe sun's warm rays kissed his skin, and the gentle breeze tousled his hair in a playful dance. Gazing down at Peitho's small hand intertwined with his own, Hephaestus couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. As they strolled through the bustling city streets, he took in the vibrant sights and sounds. Merchants eagerly displayed their goods in lively stalls, calling out to passersby in hopes of making a sale. The air was filled with the scents of freshly baked bread, sizzling meats, and exotic spices as they passed by open doorways and shops filled with alluring trinkets and wares. Children chased each other, their laughter ringing in the air even as a few stopped briefly to speak to 'Grandpa Heph' or 'Uncle Hammer' as many of the children had taken to calling him. \n\nThe public square was adorned with grand statues of powerful gods and legendary heroes, standing tall and proud in their eternal glory. The enticing aroma of exotic spices and sizzling meats drifted on the gentle breeze, enticing passersby to stop and take notice. Hephaestus allowed himself to be led by the hand by the woman who had meticulously planned this outing for them, taking in all the sights, sounds, and scents around him with a sense of wonder and contentment.\n\nHephaestus glanced at Peitho, her hand clasped in his. She seemed to thrive out here int he middle of the hustle and the bustle and energy. Where he seemed to pull inward on himself in such an environment, she seemed to blossom even more. He envied her easy confidence. But he had to admit, the day was not turning out nearly as dreadful as he had feared when he first heard there would be shopping involved. \n\nDespite his initial dread at the idea of spending the day shopping, Hephaestus found himself surprisingly content. The atmosphere was alive with vibrant colors, enticing scents, and lively chatter but for some reason it did not seem to wear on him as it usually did. \n\nAs they strolled aimlessly through the market, he felt a sense of freedom and relaxation that he hadn't experienced in a long time. There was no need to rush or adhere to an agenda - simply enjoying each other's company was enough. As they weaved through the crowded stalls, Hephaestus couldn't help but be captivated by the diversity of goods on display - from intricate jewelry to exotic spices to handcrafted furniture. Even with his long held respect and admiration for the talent and passion of the mortals, he felt a newfound appreciation for the artistry and hard work that went into creating these items.\n\nWhen they arrived at the first shop however, Hephaestus balked momentarily. He had never cared much for fashion or fancy garments. Sturdy work clothes suited him just fine at the forge. Hephaestus eyed the fancy clothes on display in the window warily. He had never been one for keeping up with the latest fashions. His old, stained work clothes had always suited him just fine. But he knew this outing would make Peitho happy, so he resolved to try and enjoy it.\n\nPeitho wrapped her arms around him excitedly, her eyes twinkling. \"Please Hephy, I think you'll really like this shopping trip,\" She said. Though initially hesitant, Hephaestus found he couldn't say no to her enthusiasm. He nodded and allowed himself to be led into the boutique. The grandeur of the window display was nothing compared to the opulence within the shop. Fine suits, silk shirts, and other exquisite pieces caught Hephaestus' eye as he glanced around in awe. He couldn't believe that materials like these existed outside of his forge, let alone in clothing form. Yet, there they were, beckoning to him with their elegance and grace. Though he felt a bit out of place among all the finery, Peitho's hand on his arm had a surprising grounding effect that helped him stay relaxed.\n\nHis eyes still wandered around, even as Peitho let go and started walking to the first rack of clothes. Hephaestus found himself distracted again by everything that seemed to be crammed into a shop that had looked much smaller from the outside. He turned to ask her something. But Peitho was already busy picking out clothes for him to try on, draping them over one arm as she looked over at him. \"I can't wait to see how handsome you'll look in these,\" She said, eyes shining letting him know she was going to be ok, even if he still wasnt sure about the whole wardrobe upgrade... Or her paying for it either.\n\n||" }, { "author": "PIeITN'O ", "message": "***If there was one thing Peitho loved more than messing with mortals, it was shopping. As she was walking alongside Heph, she noticed the awe in his eyes as he looked at the mortals selling their many goods. All varying between types of artistic material, from jewelry to hand crafted spices and furniture. She made a mental note to allow him to look around some after their shopping. She wanted him to have some enjoyment after all, it was the point of their outing. Many would think she was up to no good, but she decided to display a rare type of kindness towards him.*** \n\n~\n\n***If there was anything Peitho loved more than stirring trouble amongst mortals and the other gods, it was shopping. She had always been one for fashion, following the various trends that arose over her many years of life. She personally loved and missed the togas, but she did enjoy the modern day world. The fashion tastes of mortals had certainly improved, with a variety of styles as well. Having seen this variety, she knew she needed to get Heph some new clothing to further his style and introduce him to new things. Add some flare to his wardrobe, maybe even fancier clothes for special events like parties or galas the gods may throw. The opportunities were endless for him, she just had to show him.***\n\n~\n\n***When Heph had agreed to go into the boutique with her, she smiled widely. Leaning up slightly, she pressed her lips to his gently. A light, quick kiss to show her appreciation and happiness. She pulled away, taking his hand and leading him into the first boutique they would be going into. She then linked her arm with his, pulling him further into the store. Fine clothing hung on the walls and on various racks, the store sectioned between mens and womens clothes. Peitho began to lead him towards the left of the store where they kept the mens clothing, swerving in between various racks of fine clothing. All made of different, luxurious materials. All either formal or some form of a casual formal. Smiling brightly, she had let go of his arm moving towards a rack. She began to flip through the clothes on the rack, her eyes scanning the various garments.*** \n\n~\n\n***She looked around, beckoning for one of the salesmen towards her. Using her charm, she managed to get him to help her hold the various items she would pick out for Heph. Peitho didn't hold back, taking a variety of items off the rack. The man would follow her as she moved around, picking shirts and pants of various kinds. Finding belts to go with, new shoes, and even ties. It was to the point where baskets were needed to hold the articles of clothing. She eventually reserved a dressing room for heph and herself even.***\n\n~\n\n***Walking back towards Heph, she motioned to the dressing room section of the store.*** \"Oh Hephy I picked out many items for you to try on. And you will be trying them on, I will hear no excuses.\" ***She pecked his cheek, dragging him along to the dressing rooms. She would await for him to try on every piece of clothing she grabbed him, giving her opinions and making a keep and give back pile to separate them. When they finished, she would grab herself some clothes in the process. Having modeled them for Heph, she would check them out and hold the many bags of clothes. Leaving the boutique and walking to the others she wished to bring him to. By the end of this little shopping adventure, Peitho had bought various items for herself and Heph. Once they exited the last boutique, the sun had begun to slowly set on the sky. Turning to face him, she would nudge her head.*** \"That was certainly productive, now you have two options. We can explore the market some more... Or we can go to a nice dinner. The choice is yours Hephy, either way these bags will need to go in the car. Thank the gods for those things, imagine not having them and carrying all of this the entire day.\"" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "At first, the thought of sifting through an assortment of outfits in a bustling store filled with people had been daunting. The mere idea of trying on different garments in front of prying eyes was enough to send shivers down his spine. And not just for the attention it might draw, but for the reminders of his own physical imperfections. Yet, as he slipped into each new ensemble Peitho had chosen, Hephaestus found himself appreciating the way the fabrics felt against his skin, the way the colors played together, and the way some cuts made him look surprisingly... Normal, almost... Elegant. \n\nWith each outfit change, Peitho's infectious enthusiasm lifted Hephaestus' spirits. Her genuine compliments were like rays of sunshine, warming his heart. \"That color is magnificent on you, my dear Hephy!\" Or \"Oh, look at how well this fits your muscular frame!\" Her words and presence made all the difference. As he stood in the dressing room, admiring himself in the mirror, Hephaestus caught glimpses of his reflection. Over time, these glimpses became less jarring and more intriguing. Instead of seeing only flaws and imperfections, he began to appreciate them in a new light.\n\nIt was rare for Hephaestus to take notice of his own appearance. His face and body were usually hidden beneath layers of soot and grime from his work at the forge, or buried deep within a shattered self-confidence that refused to see himself as anything more than a crippled god. But today, as he stood before the mirror, he caught a glimpse of someone else staring back at him—a man who, despite his scars and disability, could still stand tall and proud. It was an image that filled him with both awe and disbelief.\n\nWith each change of clothes, the weight of self-doubt that had burdened him for so long began to lift, replaced by a newfound sense of confidence and self-assurance. The trendy and sleek garments he tried on seemed to mold perfectly to his form, as if they were made just for him. And in that moment, Hephaestus finally saw the evidence right in front of him - he belonged among the gods, not just as a skilled craftsman but as a strong and capable individual worthy of consideration and attention.\n\nHe was starting to enjoy the process, the transformation, not just in appearance but in spirit. It felt liberating, being out here with Peitho, not as a god of the forge, but simply as a man on a day out, sharing moments that were light and easy. When it was all said and done, outfits bought, accessories found, and the shopping trip a success Hephaestus and Peitho started back towards the car. It was, Hephaestus realized, one of the first times in a long while that he had truly allowed himself to just be, without the weight of expectations or the clamor of the forge.\n\nWalking along with Peitho, watching her animated expressions, feeling the soft breeze, and just appreciating the moment, Hephaestus felt a contentment that was both profound and simple. He realized how much he had needed this, needed her encouragement, her relentless positivity, her belief in him. It wasn't just about the clothes or even about being seen outside the forge. It was about feeling acknowledged, feeling appreciated—not for his divine duties, but for his very human desires to feel good about himself and enjoy the company of someone who saw him, truly saw him, as he was.\n\nAs they finished loading her clothes into the car, Hephaestus let out a thoughtful hum, tilting his head as he considered her question. \"Perhaps we could venture to the market?\" He suggested, almost shyly. \"It's been quite some time since I've had the chance to visit the mortal markets. I used to find great joy in conversing with the vendors and farmers there.\" A nostalgic smile tugged at his lips, widening the already large grin on his face. \"I frequented the market so often that even the children from the nearby village recognized me and would come running whenever I arrived. It would be nice to revisit those memories... Even just for a little while before going to dinner,\" He added with a hopeful twinkle in his eyes.\n\n||" }, { "author": "etherealqueen1", "message": "***Heph and Peitho ended up going to the market and continuing on with their date.*** `End Scene`" } ]

[ { "author": "yourinferior", "message": "Bendis and Artemis meet again at the Euterpe Lounge \n\nNamed after the muse of music, the Euterpe Lounge is a chic venue where gods and patrons come together to appreciate live music, jazz performances, and poetry readings. The lounge is adorned with musical motifs and celestial accents, creating an atmosphere that resonates with the divine muse of melody." }, { "author": "BENDIS #", "message": "𝕿𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠\n𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝗼𝗻𝗲 . . . 𝒙 \n\nThe cozy and intimate atmosphere made Bendis reminisce of a sophisticated speakeasy or jazz lounge from a bygone era. The dimly lit interior soaked itself in a warm, amber glow, creating a sense of mystery and intrigue. \n \n The walls were adorned with an eclectic array of framed artworks and vintage-inspired decor, evoking a refined and sophisticated ambiance, and setting the tone instantly.\n\nThe plush, velvet-upholstered furniture and the scattering of small lamps and candles throughout the space contribute to the ambiance. The circular booths and intimate seating arrangements suggest this establishment is designed for intimate gatherings, gossiping conversations, and the savoring of fine drinks and delicacies.\n\nIt seemed sort like of a hidden gem that was made by Euterpe, The Muse; To Bendis it was a sanctuary where patrons could escape the outside world and immerse themselves in a world of refined indulgence and artistic expression. \n\nThe attention to detail and the harmonious blend of textures, lighting, and furnishings create a captivating environment that beckons the senses and invites the visitor to lose themselves in the enchanting allure of this remarkable space.\n\nShe sat in one of the booths, wearing a dramatic, floor-length houndstooth print dress that showcased her both elegance and boldness. The dress held a deep V-neckline, with exaggerated puffed sleeves, and a flowing, full-length skirt. The pattern creates a striking visual contrast between the black and white tones.\n\nBendis sat in a powerful pose, with one leg crossed and the hand raised to her glass of chardonnay in a thoughtful, contemplative gesture.\n\nHer posing, combined with the dramatic hairstyle of an intricate, braided updo with floral accents gave the image a sense of regal, almost theatrical quality. She wore teal high-heeled sandals to provide a vibrant pop of color that complements the black and white of the dress. The overall effect allowed her to have a striking visual impact, blending bold, graphic patterns with an elegant, statuesque presence that makes her still approachable. \n\n Her hazelnut irises darted all around the lounge, identifying fellow deities, and mortals.\n\n Though, her mind relaxed As the first note glides into the air, it was as if a sudden portal to another dimension opened up pulling the goddess into a musical dialogue that resonated in her. \n\n The smooth, sultry tones of the saxophone and the playful trill of the piano enveloped Bendis into a rich tapestry of sound as if Athena herself weaved it; however, that wasn't the case for it was mortals who were so gifted, and flawed. \n\nShe waited at her seat, waiting to see if anyone was worth approaching.\n\n\n✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . . . 𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑠\n𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 :: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧\n𝑐𝑜-𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 :: \n𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 :: \n𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 :: \n𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 ::" }, { "author": "Artemis", "message": "It was a busy Saturday night for the lounge, as busy as they permitted of course; the bouncers at the door regularly waving off entry to keep the population inside to a necessary minimum. The low ambient sound of conversations and movement already at a boiling point of maintaining the desired volume level. However strangely enough the heavy steel door granted admittance to one more singular presence, the bouncers at the door offering hushed apologizes to whomever it was. In the dim mood lighting of the space it would be near impossible to make out the figures features, that paired with the individuals purposefully inconspicuous movement of avoiding sight-lines as they headed towards the bar left them shrouded in light mystery.\n\nSaddling one of the velvet cushioned barstools she sat, making no sound she twisted in her place to angle herself to subtly observe the room and more importantly the stage. In the interim of the motion a squat older gentleman, the bartender, approached down his lane towards her. Wordlessly she delievered him a single glance, green eyes aglow like emeralds in the warmth of the lounge, with a gulp he recognized her and immediately began pouring her usual. A few notes of the song later a whiskey on rocks styled nectar was delivered to her upon a decorated coaster, without missing a beat she retrieved it and stood, paying no mind to actually paying here. Further intent on completely her routine the figure prowled silently to her usual booth.\n\nThat was when she'd spot her, cross legged and well dressed, with a bubbling glass in hand. It had been quite some time since either had directly interacted, an unseen toothy smile would spread on the figures face. Tonight the huntress would become the hunted.\n\nThere'd been zero intent on her end to attend to anyone that evening, she'd only returning to Olympia just a few short days ago and had went out with the desire of having an easy, relaxing night on the town. It was treat she could rarely afford, always busy with one task or another, and even less often did she actually wish for a setting so public. All previous notions were thrown out the window however the moment she'd laid eyes on her, the dark woman enjoying a drink alone in what was usually her regular booth. It was too good an opportunity to miss.\n\nWith the precision and attention to remaining unseen she was so well versed in she stalked to the goddess, weaving her way to the backside of the establishment; always remaining out of direct sight with her prey. After lining up her approach she turned and made a silent beeline for her, black heeled boots somehow quiet upon the hardwood floors. Even in her discretion she still caught a few glances, only attempting to hide from one particular set of eyes. Tonight she was dressed somewhat irregularly for herself, form fitting leather pants that clung to every curve and duvet of her form, the sort of thing that wandering eyes latched onto. Paired with a red satin button up, although a majority of the buttons were left undone, tucked into her pants creating a pillowy mass of fabric hinting boldly at what was beneath. In a few seconds her stride came to a halt as she reared upon Bendis.\n\nShe bent over, placing an elbow upon the booth to lean above it, her face drawing close to the other just by a few inches. \"Hey Beny.\" A teasing playfulness exaggerated her words, an energetic attitude bubbling just beneath the surface. \n\n\"I didn't know they'd let you in someplace like this.\" A faux jab, she knew Bendis to be a more refined goddess than herself who likely appreciated this scenery with more sincerity than herself. \n\nArtemis smiled as she came around the booth, sliding in carelessly close to the goddess. Her golden red curls flowed untamed tonight, aglow like fire in the orange lighting of the room. With the proximity the scents of wood, vanilla, and cinnamon could be easily picked up from the woman. \"How much did you have to bride the boys at the door?\"\n\n||" }, { "author": "yourinferior", "message": "I SEE SO MANY TYPOS AFTER REREADING FUCK, I meant bribe in that last line]]" }, { "author": "BENDIS #", "message": "╭──╯ . . . . . 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧.\n\n_ _\n 𝕿𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠\n 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝘁𝘄𝗼 . . . 𝒙 \n\n𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐒 regarded Artemis across the velvety darkness of the booth, her eyes glinting with the subtle thoughts of a mind forever imaging threads of possible futures. She acknowledged the contrast between them: Artemis, the embodiment of the wild and untamed, and herself, similar yet the strategist cloaked in velvet shadows of societal intricacies. \n\n𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑 usually guarded nature, Bendis found a certain solace in the company of Artemis, whose straightforwardness and sharing of domains carved a space of trust rare in the divine realms.\n\n\"I wonder, Artemis, what pulls you away from the tranquility of enjoying your presence to the clamor of these human & divine engagements. Is it curiosity, or perhaps something, or someone has drawn you out tonight?\" Her tone was casual, yet each word was chosen with precision, aiming to gently probe behind Artemis's motives without stepping into the territory of intrusion. \n\n𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐆, she leaned into her embrace and pulled the slit of her dress over, covering her glistening legs which glistened subtly in darkness.\n\n𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 softened glow of the lounge, Bendis's posture remained relaxed, yet her mind was always calculating, always planning several steps ahead which was her personality. She was well aware of her reputation among both gods and mortals—a figure of both reverence and caution.\n\n𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘to foresee potential in others made her a valuable ally, yet it also erected a wall of introspection around her, making her analyze every gesture and word for deeper meanings. \"Your presence here, amidst all this human concoction of drama and gossip, is intriguing. We both know how nature can blossom out a purer tune than these jazz clubs of human creativity. Yet here we are, you and I, us, drawn to the same dimly lit corners of mortal amusement. Is it the need of unpredictability, or perhaps a break from our divine duties?\"\n\n𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄 sipped her chardonnay, the cool liquid a sharp contrast to the warmth spreading through the booth, Bendis's gaze softened. Her vision for those around her; a vision of what they could become often isolated her, yet with Artemis, whom she hadn't seen in a long time she saw not just a fellow goddess but a spirit who possibly could understand her. \n\n\"We are both creatures of a deeper wilderness, aren't we? In our realms, we command and protect, yet, somehow we have sought solace in these connections. They, these people, remind us that amidst the divine, there is an everlasting profound simplicity in just... Being.\" \n\n𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 trailed off, inviting Artemis to fill the silence, a silent acknowledgment of their shared complexities and the unspoken understanding that, beneath the surface, their spirits were not so different after all.\n\n\"But, that probably means nothing to you.\" She released a cough of amusement and placed the wine glass on the table while leaning back against the plush pillows in the booths.\n\n✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . . . 𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑠\n𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 :: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧\n𝑐𝑜-𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 :: ꪖ᥅ꪻꫀꪑ꠸ᦓ\n𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 :: \n𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 :: *Enjoy.*\n𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 ::" }, { "author": "Artemis", "message": "Artemis lounged freely within the booth, her back uncoiling against the plush wall of the booth while an arm resting atop the cushioning. Her other hand lazily nursing her amber toned drink, her eyes watching the liquid away with the soft movement of her wrist. Those same eyes casually returning to lock on Bendis as the other spoke, observing her in her entirety swiftly before landing upon her eyes. Artemis absentmindedly found their color similar to the swirl of liquor in her own glass.\n\nThe goddess' lips, which had dropped her standard flashing smile, tightened in their corners once more. Bendis was an eloquently spoken goddess, deeper thought behind her words even if Artemis mimed them exactly. She found it a challenge to match the other, Artemis was a creature of pure and undeniable things, earnest in her every aspect. So rarely did that sense of unease fill Artemis but with the pair's similarities she found herself unconsciously comparing them.\n \n\"Boredom has led me here this evening,\" She wanted to kick herself for trying to even attempt to sound more sophisticated than she was, \"I enjoy the little tunes these mortals play, they've been absent from my days for sometime so I thought to treat myself.\" Her eyes drifted from the goddess and to the stage where the performers still played, a slower more somber song having begun, before returning her gaze to the booth they occupied once Bendis continued speaking.\n\nArtemis listened diligently, her eyes not leaving the other even as she took a sip of her whiskey. She savored the flavor, letting the liquor linger in her mouth before allowing herself to swallow, following the burn as it traveled inwards. Its effects were insubstantial but the placebo of it cooled Artemis a bit, her tense shoulders seeming to lower just a fraction. Although all together Artemis gave the imagery of a tiger in a dress, all muscle and sinew disguised in a veil of fabric and leather. She lounged with the confident supremacy most predators did, unchallenged and unafraid but ready to react should the need arise.\n\nSensing her turn to speak again Artemis placed her drink upon the wooden table that centered the booth, bringing her now free hand to join her other. Her fingers lacing together in some old habit, fiddling with one another to distract her active mind. \"The wilds and her creatures fill me with purpose and duty, they give me reason to protect and satisfaction and peace when I do just that but...\" Her eyes flickered over Bendis' face, searching for the words in the others features, \"But yes, here we are, tucked away in a den of impurity and humanity.\" She'd found her answer but didn't feel like sharing it seemed.\n\n\"We belong to them, those realms of the wild, we always will as is our duty and honor but is it so impossible for us to belong to this one as well?\" There was something hinted at her inflection; a desire to belong, to be seen and understood, but it was tucked away behind layers of responsibility and tradition.\n\nAt Bendis' dismissal Artemis returned her eyes upon the goddess, squinted in a sort playfully teasing smile. She released her entwined fingers and placed her cheek into the hand that was resting atop the cushioning. Her leg nearest Bendis lifting from the floor and lying withdrawn upon the space that separated them, Artemis' body language now delivering all of her attention for Bendis. \"You're right, means utterly nothing to me.\" She smile grew briefly at her own sarcasm, amused so far with how things were progressing.\n||" }, { "author": "BENDIS #", "message": "╭──╯ . . . . . 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧.\n\n_ _\n 𝕿𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠\n 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 . . . 𝒙 \n \n𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐒 couldn't help but let a little smirk play at the corners of her mouth, amused by Artemis's attempts at sounding a bit more highbrow than usual. It was a side of her that didn't come out often, and it was almost endearing in its rarity. \n\n𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐌 brought you here, huh?\" She asked, her tone easy and conversational. \"Must be nice to kick back once in a while, even for us gods, right? To just soak in some of those simple human pleasures without any grand purpose.\"\n\n𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐏 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊, her gaze never leaving Artemis. \"I've got to admit, there's something about these little human gatherings, the music, the chatter. It's all so... Real. Makes you feel a bit more grounded, doesn't it? Reminds us maybe there's more to life than just our duties up on high.\"\n\n𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. \"You're all about duty, I know. And it's important, no doubt. But don't you ever wonder what it'd be like to not always have to be 'on'? To just live a little, find some joy in these small moments? Maybe that's what we're protecting, these bits of life that even we find refreshing.\" \n\n𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃, considering Artemis's point about belonging to both their world and this one. \"Maybe you're onto something. Maybe we can belong here, too, in our way. It doesn't always have to be an either/or thing.\"\n\n𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐗𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐅𝐓 in Artemis's posture didn't go unnoticed, and Bendis matched it, her own demeanor softening. \"You're right,\" She said with a gentle laugh, \"None of this really matters in the grand scheme, does it? But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy it while we're here.\"\n\n𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 of the moment seemed to weave a stronger bond between them, a silent acknowledgment of their shared understanding and enjoyment of the night's lighter side.\n\n𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐒'𝐒 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 softened as she noticed the way Artemis settled more comfortably into the booth, her eyes reflecting a touch of the candid connection forming between them.\n\n\"𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖, 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒,\" She began, her voice lower, carrying a thread of warmth specially reserved for moments like this, \"It's interesting how stepping away from our duties for even a night can reveal things about us.\"\n\n\"𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄\" The real challenge isn't always about fulfilling those eternal roles, but sometimes just letting ourselves be a bit more... Open. Vulnerable, even. And isn't that a different kind of strength for us?\"\n\n𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐃 briefly towards the stage, where the music played softly, now more of a gentle echo to their conversation than a distraction. \"This place, with all its human flaws and chaos, it's like a mirror sometimes. Shows us not just what we rule over but what we're missing out on. It's kind of funny how we, protectors of all things wild and natural, end up finding a bit of comfort in human messiness.\"\n\n𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 just a bit closer, Bendis reached out to touch Artemis's hand lightly, a gesture uncharacteristically personal and revealing a depth to their growing friendship. \"We might walk through these realms as distant deities, but tonight, why don't we just be us? Friends enjoying the night out. Maybe we can find a little peace here that we're always fighting for out there.\"\n\n𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 and the shared smiles that followed not only highlighted a shift in their usual interaction but also signaled a deeper recognition between them. In the dim, soft lighting of the lounge, amidst the low hum of oblivious mortal lives.\n\n✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . . . 𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑠\n𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 :: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧\n𝑐𝑜-𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 :: ꪖ᥅ꪻꫀꪑ꠸ᦓ\n𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 :: \n𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 :: \n𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 ::" }, { "author": "Artemis", "message": "Artemis thought much of Bendis, she was a manicured and thoughtful goddess in both visual and personal aspects. There was intent behind every word, every action and decision, and it put Artemis on edge. She vigilantly studied every little expression of the other, from the words she spoke, to the way she sat, hell even to the way she smirked at Artemis' expense. Everything in her mind clashed with the setting, this place wasn't her natural element and these sort of conversations weren't things she was accustomed to. But ultimately as she sat there in that small space, isolated from the world around and all its attributes worries and pains, she could find no ulterior motive to why Bendis would entertain this conversation. Artemis felt herself relax at that realization, a bit of unnatural feeling for her, but nonetheless she felt some unspoken tension break as they continued.\n\n\"Gods yes, don't get me wrong, but what is the whole point of us toiling away day after day, year after year, century after century if we don't get enjoy it from time to time?\" Artemis actually enjoyed her work for the most part, she was at home in the wilds, she felt purpose and validation whenever she helped bring life into the world, but she couldn't argue against the simple necessity to do some things for her own pleasure.\n\nHer chest caught itself as Bendis leaned in, her mind subconsciously expecting something. It released the held breath as she began to speak of duty. Something about the other's words about always being on resonating with something pushed down within herself. She brushed the fear of confronting that undesirable something off with a soft hearted chuckle, turning her face away from Bendis to take a sip from her drink. \"I don't really remember the last time I trying not being on... I suppose it never felt right to me. I've so much time to enjoy and humans, well, they have so little I just figure it's right to give 'em my all.\"\n\nShe continued listening to her counterpart, however her vision now remained hesitantly teetering from her glass to the musicians across the room. That didn't mean her attention had drifted from the conversation, rather instead now she only allowed for Bendis' words to reach her, placing more thought into the actual meaning and tonality behind them than the simply just the goddess they came from. Her comment about opening up and being more vulnerable striking a particular cord within Artemis, her jaw subtly tensing in wariness of the idea. \n\nShe was dragged back to from her thoughts when she felt a hand upon her own. Wheeling her attention back to Bendis she locked eyes with the woman, her first instinct was to pull her hand away, but for some annoying reason, to Artemis at least, she hadn't yet. \"Benny... I didn't realize you were such a big softie.\" A smile played at her lips, a nervous tick to hide what she really felt. Her mind however was computing a trillion things at once, ultimately it came down to whether or not she was going to accept this. \n\n\"The night is long and dark, so I guess I wouldn't mind sharing it with a friend.\" Her mind wandered to the last person she'd called friend. \"But if we're gonna keep up this pace I'm definitely gonna need another drink.\" She flicked a glance to her nearly empty glass, it sat beside her hand that still had yet to move from Bendis' touch. Artemis supposed she'd just have to take the risk tonight." } ]

[ { "author": "kenneth.greygullhaven", "message": "Location: Hephaestus' forge.\nWho: Hephaestus and Zeus \nZeus comes to see Hephaestus and talk... About things." }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus, the god of fire and craftsmanship, toiled away in his forge, his strong arms swinging hammers with precision and skill. The glowing embers danced at his feet as he transformed cold and lifeless blocks of steel, iron, and even luxurious gold into practical tools and stunning works of art. Blades sharp enough to slice through anything, shields sturdy enough to withstand any blow, tools efficient enough to make any task effortless, and stunning pieces to honor the god, goddesses, and even demigods, - these were the fruits of his labor. \n\nAnd yet, despite the satisfaction he found in his work, there was a sense of emptiness that lingered within him. He had always been content to simply create and let others do with his creations as they pleased. After all, it wasn't his concern what purpose they would serve. It was not his business what use his creations came to, that was up to those who used and wielded them, It had always been that way- he was the master craftsman and creator, nothing more. His purpose lay in making things for others and finding purpose in the fruits of his labors. \n\nBut lately, he couldn't help but yearn for the joy of making something purely for his own use and enjoyment. As he worked tirelessly at his forge, the pungent smell of smoke and scorched metal filled Hephaestus' senses. The rhythmic clanging and crackling of flames echoed in his ears, a constant reminder of the task at hand. As he poured his heart and soul into creating this masterpiece, he couldn't help but feel conflicted. \n\nOn one hand, the creation represented his passion and skills as a blacksmith. But on the other hand, it also held memories of past pains and struggles. Nevertheless, he couldn't deny the rush of adrenaline coursing through him as he forged ahead, unsure of what emotions would ultimately shape his final creation.\n\nHephaestus revelled in the joy of his work, finding solace and purpose in creating objects that others would come to rely on. Yet, amidst his devotion to serving others, he allowed himself moments of selfish pleasure. And this current project was one of those rare occasions. As he stood before his workbench, meticulously shaping each piece with his skillful hands, a sense of fulfillment washed over him. Straight and sturdy supports were masterfully carved into shape, straps and hinges carefully crafted with precision, and a design that seamlessly balanced both comfort and practicality emerged from his mind's eye. \n\nStepping back to admire his progress thus far, a subtle smile played at the corners of Hephaestus' lips. It was a promising start. But now it was time to pour his heart into the more intricate details, infusing his creation with beauty and functionality in equal measure. With steady hands and a sense of pride, Hephaestus crafted his finest brace yet. For as long as he could remember, he had been using his skills as a blacksmith to create sturdy supports for his disabled body. For as long as he could remember, he had wielded the craftsman's hammer to create his own braces and supports, overcoming his disability with each masterpiece. Mortal-made tools simply could not withstand the power and rigors that came with being the blacksmith of the gods. \n\nCountless braces had been forged by his hands over the millennia, each one a testament to his skill and determination. But this one was different. It held a complexity and intricacy that surpassed any before it, a true work of art among the many creations in Hephaestus' arsenal. Perhaps, after years of dedicating his skills to fulfilling the needs of others, it was finally starting to sink in that he also deserved a few nice things. Yet, it was likely the looming gala and its swirling pressure that truly consumed his thoughts. The event was pressing, leaving little room for anything else in his mind.\n\nAs he carefully worked, memories flooded his mind. He recalled with a smile the happy days of his time spent in the forge crafting and the words of praise his fellow deities had for him and his work. And there were also the painful ghostly memories of how he had been rejected and looked down on by his own kin. The very thing that made the brace in his hands necessary was a source of both pride and pain for Hephaestus, a constant battle he could never fully quite quiet in his head or in his heart. But through it all, his passion for creating never wavered, and it showed in every delicate arc and swirl of gold that he lovingly crafted onto the brace. \n\nWith each finished detail, he felt a sense of accomplishment. Lost in the intense heat of the fire and the rhythmic clangs of his hammer, Hephaestus was completely consumed by his work. The scent of burning wood and metal filled his nostrils, but he hardly noticed as he poured all of his focus into crafting a beautiful piece. It wasn't until a figure approached the forge that he snapped out of his trance. And not just any figure - it was THAT presence, standing in the doorway of his sacred space. With a hint of amusement in his voice, Hephaestus tilted his head slightly toward the visitor, still not lifting his gaze from the task at hand to address the unexpected guest who was standing on the threshold of his safe place, his sanctuary. \n\n\"Well, to what do I owe the pleasure of this surprise visit?\" He asked, trying to mask his curiosity behind a facade of nonchalance." }, { "author": "antichrist2828", "message": "With each passing day, the drum of an impending war beat a little louder in Zeus's mind. As King of the gods, he stood confident in his own strength. Yet, a flicker of uncertainty still danced through him. He wished to be certain of who was in his corner. Hephaestus remained an enigma, their relationship marred by a lingering bitterness. \n\nIn the past, it had been an uneasy dance drawing the two of them together, but time had ushered in a tentative truce. Yet forgiveness was a creature of many colors, and its depths remained uncharted. With chaos stirring on the horizon, Zeus needed to know where Hephaestus's allegiance truly lay. Would he sway towards Poseidon? A defiant act against his father's rule? Or would he stand with Zeus, in the realm where only the valiant belong? \n\nHe would not wait for an answer. \n\nHe would wait for no one. \n\nZeus's journey culminated at the fiery heart of Hephaestus's domain, the forge where earth's bones were wrought into divine instruments. In his true form he remained unveiled, his presence alone a declaration. As he approached, Hephaestus was the picture of focus, his attention poured into his craft, indifferent to any company. Zeus's eyes, alight with the power of a storm, sought his son's gaze. Whispers of what brewed in the distance slithered through Olympus. He did not forget Hades stood like a coward, calling for peace only to undress his wife. \n\nZeus wondered how much of the undercurrent had reached the ears of the smith god. What did he perceive of the conflict between his uncles? The tension that tugged at the pillars of every foundation built to that day? The weight of unasked questions lingered between them. What truths did the lesser god hold? What side would he choose in the conflict? Was he angry at him even now? The moment of reckoning was upon them, and when their eyes met, Zeus's chin tilted upward just slightly. \n\n—\n\n\"Well, you're never difficult to track down.\" \n\nHe took a step forward, the silence thick in the air. His eyes drifted down to the creation on the table, but hardly long enough to take interest in it. He clenched his jaw, his eyes slightly narrowed.\n\n\"I'm sure you have heard of Poseidon's recent temper tantrum. He has declared war this time.\"" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "As the sound of Zeus's booming voice rang through the forge, Hephaestus couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease spread through his chest. It was easier to stay the course, isolated there in the forge where the rumors and whispers of war could be drowned out by the sounds of sizzing embers and the pounding of his hammer on metal. He of course knew of the growing tension and the conflict, it was impossible to avoid even there in his safe haven.\n\nHephaestus took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He knew this day would come eventually, the past always had a way of creeping back, and when it came to his and his father's relationship there was always that shadow hanging over it. Though he had forgiven his father's transgressions, he could not easily forget the hurt they had caused. And while he chose to distance himself from the political games of his uncles, he also recognized the weight of responsibility that came with being the son of a powerful deity like Zeus. It was inevitable that these difficult questions would arise.\n\n Just like old times - looming and imposing, Zeus towered over him especially given his seated position at the forge as his hands continued to work on the piece before him. He glanced at his father as he set his tools down, studying the lines on his face for any sign of worry or fear. \n\n\"I have heard. One more war of the gods among many is it not? Another power play. Another attempt to one up the other.\" The words fell from Hephaestus' lips with a hint of cynicism and disbelief as he looked at his father curiously. \"Are you really that concerned about the outcome of this one? You've dealt with every other challenger who has tried to oppose you, have they gotten so under your skin that you are worried?\"\n\n||" }, { "author": "antichrist2828", "message": "*\"Another power play, another attempt to one up the other.\"* \n\nHephaestus' words hung heavy in the air between them, laden with a tone Zeus found strangely elusive. Yet as he dissected it, something flickered in his chest until it began to burn. Such insolence, to address him with a brazen tongue and defiant gaze, was blasphemous. He wanted to pounce on this, thunder rumbling in his heart. But, he was acutely aware of their shared history, and the looming shadows of what was yet to unfold. All were pawns in the grand stratagem, Hephaestus included — his turbulent emotions, and their lasting, tangled bond. \n\nMoments trickled by like grains in an hourglass, and Zeus reined in his acrid retort. His mind became an arena where apologies jostled with justifications, where truths tangled with fabrications. What words to offer Hephaestus, how to mend the rift and proceed, remained a puzzle. Yet, Zeus was resolute; he would ensure Hephaestus stood by him. Drawing in a deep, anchoring breath, Zeus took a slow step forward. His hands clasped behind him, his eyes suddenly softer than they were before. \n\n\"He has declared war. I am King, I must not sit back and watch as he attacks.\" \n\nHis shoulders were still, his brows knitted together in mild confusion. \n\n\"What is it you want instead? I have come to you today because time is minimal. I need to know where you stand.\" \n\n\nZeus would not meander through pleasantries, this he had to know. His bond with Hephaestus was frayed, but present. Forgiveness had been extended long ago, yet a residual sharpness lingered in his son's words, a tartness he could taste in their every interaction. He could hear it in the silence, in the heavy looks cast his way. In his heart, the memory was indelible. \n\nBut, would it pull him away now?" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus, his broad shoulders tense and his jaw clenched, absorbed the intensity of Zeus's gaze. He leaned back against the cool metal of his worktable, the smell of burning embers and molten metal filling his nostrils. His calloused hands instinctively sought comfort in the familiar weight and texture of his tools, a reminder of his true passion amidst the tension of their conversation. The forge's heat enveloped them, making beads of sweat form on their foreheads as they stood face to face. The air crackled with electricity and unspoken words, the weight of their power and family ties hanging heavily between them\n\n\"You ask where I stand,\" Hephaestus began his voice a controlled blend of weariness and resolve. \"I stand where I have always stood — at the forge, between fire and anvil, shaping what my fellow gods demand. My allegiance, like my creations, is not given lightly nor fully swayed by the whims of conflict.\"\n\nHe paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the imposing form before him. Zeus. His father. But more importantly the ruler of Olympus, Olympian and everything in between to a large extent. Hephaestus chose his next words with the precision of a master craftsman selecting the right tool for a delicate part of his work. \n\n\"But you are right. We are beyond the luxury of time and simple choices. Poseidon's fury threatens more than just your reign; it endangers the very fabric of what we have built among the mortals. His rashness goes beyond the tantrums of a jealous rival and threaten everything we have built.\" Hephaestus straightened, locking his gaze with his father's, his expression hardened by the flames of the forge and his own internal struggles. \"I will stand with you, as I must. Not for the sake of personal feelings, but for the stability of our realms and the balance it preserves. We don't always see eye to eye and I feel that will always be the case.\"\n\nHephaestus' words were simple but not harsh, simply truthful as he looked at Zeus. \"Despite our tumultuous history and any lingering animosity between us, I will stand by your side. But make no mistake, the forge is my domain and I will not bend to anyone's will. I make what I make and do what I have always done. What anyone does after, that is on their head's not mine. However, when the final votes are tallied, my allegiance lies with you, Father.\" Hephaestus looked across the glowing and dancing shadows of the forge at Zeus, waiting for his reaction, trying to read his thoughts before he said or did anything in response.\n\n||" }, { "author": "antichrist2828", "message": "*\"I stand where I have always stood — at the forge, between fire and anvil, shaping what my fellow gods demand.\"* \n\nZeus deciphered a bitterness to his tone he did not quite understand. It was somehow both ignorant and knowing, and he drank it in with a carefulness in his eye. A smirk dared to pull at his lips, but he bit it back as Hephaestus continued. He understood the precariousness of their relationship, but wisdom dictated he align with those who ensured his safety. Loyalty did not exist in the hands of Poseidon. He would not protect him, and Zeus believed he knew that. \n\nHephaestus' words, although mostly irrelevant, outlined what he came to hear. Listening with detached amusement, he filtered out all but the essential promise: *\"You are right. I will stand with you, as I must.\"* Zeus nodded once he spoke, his gaze steady on his son's, his expression stoic like carved marble. That declaration alone sufficed, fueling Zeus' cocksure belief that, despite their past, Hephaestus knew who to report to. \n\nZeus masterfully cloaked his true emotions, presenting a facade of serene attentiveness as Hephaestus voiced his concerns. Each nod, each seemingly thoughtful pause, was nothing more than a calculated performance. Beneath this veneer, Zeus's true focus lay sharp on the scales of allegiance—numbers were his currency, loyalty his treasure. \n\n—\n\nEach word from Hephaestus about fractured bonds and the weakening pillars of their shared foundation served only as a measure for Zeus, a way to tally who stood with him and who against. This was not a heartfelt exchange but a strategic assessment, a silent counting of allies in his quest for an unyielding army. As the conversation dwindled to a heavy silence, Zeus's gaze remained fixed, his frame statuesque, he took a deep breath before he spoke. \n\n\"You never cease to impress me, son. You have made the right decision. Poseidon operates under ulterior motives, together we stand against that.\" Zeus drew closer, \"Until we meet again, son.\" His eyes appeared honest and grateful, and then without warning he was gone." } ]

[ { "author": "behemoth4306", "message": "Location: Ares' Grand Estate\nWho: Ares, Douglas\n⠀\nAres returns from an obscure quest changed, his once familiar temperament now laced with a mysterious severity, as he embarks on a relentless search through his sons' sanctuaries, driven by suspicions ignited by a simple mortal jacket.\n⠀" }, { "author": "Ares", "message": "⠀\nLightning cracked the clouds, sending heaven's light through the storm. It came with a sepia hint to the silver-black sky, as if it already knew the winds and rain it wrought would echo for eternity. The storm grew vast, surging as the spring melt river, the air in tight eddies, its playful vortices unaware of their own strength. It was a Tuesday. Known to the Greeks as the day of Ares, Tuesday held the favor of the god of war, a time when the roll of dice and the swing of fate were believed to lean his way. \n⠀\nOn such a day, all who knew him awaited his return, weekly anticipating the resonance of his steps. Ares had left on a quest marked by divine whispers and uncharted impulses. Amidst vague reasons and silent departures, not even the murmurs of his impending madness could deter his singular resolve as he departed the realm of deities, guided solely by instinct.\n⠀\nMany cycles of the moon later, Ares returned, not just weeks but parts of a year having passed. Although his absence stretched beyond mortal predictions, it ended, as prophesied, on a Tuesday. Curiosity surrounded his return, his divine lineage included, eager for tales of the unknown. Yet, Ares shared nothing. His aura remained largely unchanged to the casual observer, no different than after countless battles.\n⠀\n\nHowever, those closest noticed a subtle shift—a deeper solemnity, a clipped humor, a patience frayed further still. His interactions, unpredictable as ever, were now laced with a peculiar test: grievances disguised as jests, where laughter from the listener drew his ire, misunderstanding their reaction as mockery.\n⠀\nFew thought it possible for the War God to grow more formidable. Some speculated his changes were mere echoes of his journey, perhaps fleeting. Yet, those who knew him best understood this new temperament was theirs to bear. On a seemingly ordinary day, Ares delved into the quarters of his offspring, his mind set upon an artifact he once bestowed upon a favored son. As to which of them it was, however, eluded him, lost in the fog of divine memory.\n⠀\nRather than summon each progeny before him—an endeavor both tedious and time-consuming—he opted for a simpler, more solitary pursuit: a thorough search through their personal belongings. It was in his son Douglas' quarters that he would very suddenly stumble upon something that worked to infuriate him to his core. Not the artifact that he was searching for, but a jacket. A mortal creation that was intended to keep them warm from the cold. It wasn't the jacket itself that peaked his nerves, but symbols that covered almost half of the backside; a collection of flowers that fluctuated in height, with stems that stretched between the pedals.\n\n⠀\nFlowers . . Like those of the wreaths that Antheia fancies as crowns. A sign of delicacy, femininity, softness. In possession of his son? The discovery stirred suspicions of altered filial affections—his once reverent son now stuttered and averted his gaze. A boy that once worshipped the very ground that he walked on now spoke to him in stammers and could hardly even keep eye contact. Was this why? With a roar that could shake the foundations of Olympus, Ares bellowed, \"DOUGLAS!\" His indistinguishable shout, honed in battles, ensured that no corner of the divine abode could muffle its reach.\n⠀\nAs he struggled with the notion that Douglas, a warrior forged in his own image, could own such an item, he wavered between denial and confrontation. *Perhaps . . It belonged to someone else.* Would become the only doubt that made him capable of holding himself back enough to speak to his son in a way that merely mimicked calmness. Ares first glanced over his shoulder, spotting his son in his peripherals.\n⠀\nHe then completely turned around, holding the jacket aloft in a manner that made the flower embedding immediately seeable. In a quiet tone, pulsating with the suppression of rage, he asked \"To whom does this belong, son?\" His voice barely contained the storm within. His eyes, dark as obsidian, bore an unsettling stillness, reminiscent of a serpent lying in wait, their depths devoid of any warmth or benevolence towards his own blood." }, { "author": "Douglas Miller", "message": "Douglas had been spending a lot of time out in the training fields, the armory, and the workshop outside his father's training area. Each day brought new drills, exercises, and rigorous training sessions. It was a routine that Douglas knew well, one that had once been a source of solace for him. The relentless paces Ares had always pushed him through, the grueling workouts, the never-ending emphasis on strength and dominance.\n\nFrom the very beginning, Ares had been the one constant in Douglas' life. His voice was ingrained in his memories, always guiding and teaching him. Without Ares, he would have been left to die as an abandoned infant. Douglas felt a deep sense of gratitude towards his Father for taking him in and raising him. Ares, for better or for worse- and many people would argue it was for the worse- was his role model and his mentor and his one constant growing up.\n\nBut then his Father left, called away on yet another mission, another call for aid, another battle and another war to fight in. It wasn't the first time Douglas had been left 'alone' as the God of War was often called away and in high demand. However, this time felt different. Ares' absence was longer and more profound with each passing phase of the moon. As the days stretched on and on, Douglas began to feel a growing void in his life, like a crumbling dirt hole around the sturdy foundations he had always relied on. The absence of his father, his mentor and role model, left him feeling lost and adrift in a sea of uncertainty, teetering on the edge of that great void.\n\nThe hole was large, impossible to ignore and at first, Douglas had simply stood where he had always stood, waiting. But hole remained and Douglas tentatively began to edge around its crumbling edges, trying to find a way past it. With cautious steps, he maneuvered around the jagged rocks and loose earth, determined to forge his own path despite the obstacle in front of him.\n\nAs time passed, the hole remained but slowly became covered and concealed. It no longer gaped wide and raw, but instead was covered and concealed by layers of time and distraction... But it was still there . With each step he took away from the path his Father had set him on, Douglas couldn't help but feel a sense of uncertainty. The apathy that had taken hold during his training made him question everything he had worked for, and doubt and questioning had always been out of the question, never allowed or tolerated by the God of War. But in the freedom, however temporary it might have been, Douglas found himself starting to doubt and starting to question. And as he struggled with confusing emotions whenever he was around his fellow demigods, he couldn't ignore the fact that the hole in his heart was still there.\n\nIt was like standing on shaky ground, knowing that at any moment it could give way and swallow him back into its depths. Despite the distractions and pursuits of daily life, Douglas couldn't escape the constant reminder of the hole within him, always waiting to consume him once again. The first real sign of that possibility was looming closer than he thought was the whispered rumors of his Father's return at last. \n\nThe confirmation that the hole was there still ready to swallow him whole once more came when he heard that familiar voice bellowing out his name, the power reverberating through the entire place. Even out in the training field by the house, Douglas felt that impact in his chest almost like a physical strike that knocked the wind out of him for a moment. Looking at the sword and shield he had been attempting to train with, he debated for all of two seconds what to do with them and then opted to leave them there for the servants to gather up later as he sprinted towards the house. His heart was pounding in his chest as he entered the family home, eyes darting around to see where his Father was.\n\nDouglas felt his heart sink when he saw Ares in his room, obviously having gone through much of his things with apparent care as to whether Douglas knew he had or not. \"Father... You're back!\" He said, trying to cover the fear with a look of excitement at his Father's final return. \n\nIt was then his eyes fell on the item Ares was holding aloft and Douglas could feel the color drain from his face. Of all the things he didn't want his father to find, that jacket was probably one of the main ones... Along with the yoga mat in the closet...\n\n\"To whom does this belong, son?\"\n\nDouglas felt a chill run through his entire body as he looked from the jacket to his father and back to the jacket. \n\n\"It... It's... \" Douglas swallowed hard as he looked at his father. \"Aurora made it\" He said softly then added \"She made it for me... I... I told her I wanted a new jacket... I asked her to make it for me.\" \n\nA small lie, mostly truth though as he had gladly accepted the gift and gladly wore it for her on several occasions. Douglas wasn't going to let Aurora take the fall for this. \n\n\"The jacket is mine, Father. I've already been wearing it for a bit now.\" Douglas stood there, trying to meet Ares' gaze, hoping he wasn't trembling as much as it felt like he was just then as he tried not to shrink back from his father as he saw the look in his eyes.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Ares", "message": "Blazing like a tempestuous flame, Ares' gaze lingered, statuesque and unyielding, as he absorbed the entirety of the scene before him. He scrutinized the expression on his son's face, the tone in his voice, and even the frequency of his stammers. He paid meticulous attention to every detail, like a predator keenly assessing its prey. He cared not for who had made offerings to Douglas, for godhood inherently involves receiving such tributes. What mattered to him was his son's response to such offerings. \n⠀\nWhich of them he accepted, and which he declined. To learn that he not only accepted it willingly, but went as far as to actually wear it. It seems Douglas had overshared that detail, causing Ares' eyebrows to raise momentarily in reaction. As the boy hesitated and stumbled through his cautious words, Ares perceived only weakness in the quivering utterances. \n⠀\nThe stillness of the room shattered as Ares moved, like a lion in a cage, to a cabinet in his son's bedroom. There, he retrieved three logs from the lowest shelf and brought them to the fireplace. With the logs tucked securely under his left arm, he knelt, reaching for the fire starter beside the hearth. With a deft flick of his wrist, he struck the flint against the steel, sending a shower of sparks raining down onto the tinder below. The air crackled with electric energy as the sparks danced and flickered, igniting the dry kindling in a triumphant burst of flame.\n\n⠀\nAs the fire roared to life, casting its warm, golden glow across the room, Ares beckoned Douglas with a singular come hither motion of his index finger, his eyes intense with unspoken demands. As the flames crackled and popped, Ares rose to his full height, searching his son's eyes for a glint of the familiar determination he once knew. He placed a firm hand on his son's shoulder while pressing the jacket against his chest with the other. \n⠀\n\"You will burn it,\" He commanded, his voice calm but laden with an intensity that matched the flickering firelight, his gaze piercing into his son's soul. The room seemed to tighten around them, filled with the tension of a looming test. Ares' eyes bore into his son, overanalyzing every twitch and expression. This was a trial, a moment that would reveal how far Douglas had strayed from his intended path. The Douglas of old would have done it eagerly, a smile playing on his lips, but now, Ares awaited the outcome, his heart heavy with foreboding as he searched for a hint of the boy he once knew. \n⠀\nAs Ares stood there, enveloped in the warm, dancing light of the fire, the room felt alive with anticipation, like a garden poised for a coming storm, the flowers billowing gaily, yet anchored and resilient in the face of the approaching tempest. The scene stretched, as if time itself had slowed, each second elongating with the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled expectations. The atmosphere was thick with the heady scent of burning wood, and the golden hues of the firelight seemed to spill over, painting everything in shades of molten gold and deep umber, as father and son stood on the precipice of an uncertain future, their souls as intertwined and conflicted as the crackling flames before them." }, { "author": "Douglas Miller", "message": "The air was thick and enveloping, laced with the deep, smoky scent of burning timber. The warm, flickering fire cast a golden sheen over everything in its path, illuminating the figures of father and son as they stood side by side. Douglas could almost taste the expectation in the air and could feel the waves of judgement and disdain that came off Ares at that moment. Their faces were lit by the fiery glow, one reflective of disappointment and anger, the other reflective of fear and apprehension. The flames danced and swirled in front of them, mirroring the entwined yet conflicted emotions within their hearts.\n\nDouglas stood rigid, his body coiled like a tightly wound spring as he faced the roaring inferno in front of him. The intense heat from the flames contrasted sharply with the icy grip of his father's hand on his shoulder, pinning him down with an unyielding force. His eyes fixated on the jacket, its vivid hues pulsating with life in the flickering shadows and dancing embers around them. It was a breathtaking creation, skillfully molded by Aurora's gifted hands, and Douglas felt a surge of something flash through him.\n\nDouglas had always known his father's temper, and he was sure the jacket would not survive. His suspicions were confirmed as he watched Ares' muscular arms stoke the flames with a fierce determination. But instead of destroying the jacket himself, his father turned to Douglas with a sudden shift in demeanor. The towering figure commanded him with a single glance and a few simple words to do the deed instead. Douglas felt small and insignificant in comparison, but his heart raced as he slowly reached for the jacket, uncertain of his father's intentions. The tension between them was palpable, each crackle of the fire echoing in the silence like an accusation. A sense of foreboding weighed heavily on Douglas as stood there staring from the jacket to the fire and back to the jacket.\n\nBut it was too late. The damage had already been done and Douglas could feel the weight of his mistake crushing him. Desperate for a way out, he pleaded with his father once more. \"Let me talk to Aurora. I'll give the jacket back and tell her I don't want it anymore.\" He tried to soften the anger brewing in his father's eyes, but it seemed futile against the fiery storm within.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Ares", "message": "In that instant, a sharp, piercing pang clutched at Ares' heart, plunging it deep into the abyss of his stomach. His eyes widened slightly, eyebrows arched in an expression of disbelief as his once unwavering gaze fractured, scattering into a desperate search within his son's eyes. The strength in his grip around Douglas' collarbone wavered, loosening as a tremor of shock passed through him. Douglas' mere suggestion told Ares all that he needed to know; it was a glaring testament to how far his son had fallen from his father's image..\n⠀\nSoftly, almost inaudibly, Ares whispered, \"No...\" Not in reply to Douglas' question, but a faint echo of his spiraling disbelief. The word floated in the air, fragile and laden with a growing despair. His visage crumbled from shock into heartbreak, and this heartbreak quickly transformed into a fiery rage. His hand, which had been resting on his son's shoulder, moved to grab his jaw with the startling speed of a lunging snake, clasping it just slightly underneath the weight that would've allowed him to break it.\n⠀\n\nPulling Douglas' head down, Ares brought his mouth close to his son's ear, his breath warm and urgent. \"BURN ITTTT, NOW!!!\" He roared with a violent intensity that vibrated through the air like the hammering clang of a smith's anvil. When the force of his shout and the strength in his grip caused Douglas' posture to buckle under the pain, Ares took advantage of this and maneuvered Douglas against the fireplace. He used his pelvis to pin him to the stone mantle, pressing with a calculated force that left no room for escape. The warmth of the fire nearby flickered reflections of golden light across the tense tableau, mirroring the fiery forge burning within Ares.\n⠀\nAs the scene unfolded, it was as if the very essence of their conflict was absorbed by the surrounding atmosphere, each second laden with the weight of years, expectations, and heartbreak, all converging in a tumultuous crescendo. The urgency of Ares' command lingered in the air, reverberating like the deep gong of a cathedral bell in the quiet that followed his outburst, leaving a resonant echo that seemed to hang suspended, as poignant and laden as the solemn hush of a chapel before prayer." }, { "author": "Douglas Miller", "message": "The searing pain radiated through his muscles, a reminder of Ares' unparalleled strength. A stark reminder that though he was his son and his champion, Douglas was still little more than a demigod compared to the power his father wielded that made him tremble uncontrollably. At one time, not so long ago, he had longed for that sort of power, to be able to bend others to his will, as he was being bent and broken in that moment. There had been a time when all Douglas wanted was his Father's approval and to stand beside him as co-victors. That had not been that long ago... And in a fleeting moment Douglas was reminded why others feared Ares as they did.\n\nAs Douglas opened his mouth to speak, desperate to reason with his volatile father, Ares' other hand shot out like a vengeful serpent and seized Douglas' jaw in a merciless vice-like grip.\n\nThe godly force behind it dug into his skin, and Douglas was sure it was leaving bruises. He fought back a whimper as he realized the full extent of Ares' power over him, biting his lip, knowing any cry or sound would just anger his father more. A cold bone-chilling shiver ran through the demigod, turning his blood to ice as his father leaned over, lips to his ear, the rough wires of his beard painfully scratching as he was held fast.\n\nThe look of terror in his wide eyes spoke volumes, conveying all the words he could not bring himself to say. His father's intense gaze bore down on him, fueled by anger and disappointment. The bellowed command reverberated through his entire body, commanding him to burn the jacket or face his father's full wrath. As he sank to his knees, Douglas clutched the jacket tightly in his trembling hand, feeling its weight and significance.\n\nBut before he could make a move, his father shoved him the rest of the way down to the ground and pressed him against the hot stone mantle with a force that left him breathless. In that moment, the flames dancing before him, the heat of the stone not enough to burn him but enough to singe him, Douglas knew he was out of options and at the mercy of his father's rage.\n\nHands trembling with both fear and pain at that moment, Douglas slowly reached out and held the jacket over the flames once more. There was a second of hesitation and he felt Ares' body shift, his weight pinning him hard against the stones, the heat singeing his face slightly as he was held firmly in place. The unspoken command was clear. And closing his eyes Douglas released his hold on the jacket, letting it fall into the flames. Douglas didnt have to be watching to know when it happened, the flash of the fire behind his eyes and the flare of heat told him all he needed to know- the jacket was soon to be no more.\n\nThe weight of his father's anger and disapproval was crushing, pressing him down as effectively as his father's own bulk did. A single tear slipped down Douglas' cheek and was consumed by the heat of the fire. Had he been aware of it Douglas would have thanked the flames for hiding it, knowing that his grief was something he could not let his father see.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Ares", "message": "Ares watched intently as the jacket met the flames. It burned in the reflection of his iris, a haunting image that he observed without wavering. Momentarily, his grip on his son slackened, his attention momentarily diverted before snapping back with renewed focus. He reached out, grabbing Douglas's arm, yanking him to his feet with a sudden force that spoke volumes of his divine strength. Ares continued to grasp his wrist firmly, his other hand clenching Douglas's right shoulder, his gaze penetrating deeply into his son's eyes.\n\n\"They've corrupted you, son. I don't know what transpired in my absence, or who or what entity has altered your essence, but you are not yourself,\" Ares declared, his voice a mixture of despair and determination as he searched Douglas's eyes, trying desperately to recapture his attention. With a rough hand, Ares brushed across the boy's face, cupping it in his firm grasp while maintaining an intense, unwavering stare.\n\n\"It will be alright, though, my son. I will restore you; whatever they did can be undone. Soon, you will once again be a warrior cast from my own mold. I will train and work you tirelessly, day and night, without breaks, without play, without freedoms. I will barely feed you until you prove that you deserve such sustenance. I failed by leaving you behind, and I will exhaust every power at my disposal to reform you. You have my word,\" Ares asserted. His handling of Douglas, though firm, carried the warmth and care of a loving father, a stark contrast to the sternness of his words. \"And you will never let them weaken you again,\" He whispered, before giving Douglas a forceful shove and exclaiming, \"Never!\"\n\n⠀\nAs Ares moved past his son, his eye contact remained unbroken until he was fully behind him, heading towards the door. He stopped in the door frame, turning his head over his shoulder. \"Put on your armor and meet me in the war room. We've much to do, Douglas,\" Ares commanded calmly as he exited the room. Leaving his son to his state of devastation, expecting none of it to enter what he had newly planned for the rest of the day, and the days coming forth. At the very least, he still exerted some control over him, and this knowledge provided Ares a twisted form of consolation.\n\nThe war god was notoriously unpopular among his kin, and the feeling was mutual. But his disdain went beyond mere familial animosity; he despised their ways. Now, he loathed them even more for how they had begun to shape his son, molding him into something far removed from the warrior he was meant to be. The realization fueled a complex brew of anger and resolve in Ares, much like a supernova bursting with the fierce urgency of its final brilliant moment before fading into the celestial void." }, { "author": "behemoth4306", "message": "⠀\n⠀\n**END OF SCENE**" } ]

[ { "author": "behemoth4306", "message": "Location: A war camp nestled between the clearing of a Plateau. \n⠀\nPrecise Location Unknown.\n⠀\nWho: Ares, Ganymede\n⠀\nGanymede requests the intervention of Ares to save a life from the fate of Scythian tradition." }, { "author": "Ares", "message": "In this sprawling war camp, carved out of dry, sun-baked terrain, four districts converge to form a camp newly dedicated to the god of war. This settlement, stolen from enemies and repurposed into a military stronghold, features a commanding statue of a foreign god, chiseled from the same material of the structures, which stands imperiously in the center. The buildings, constructed from blocks of sun-bleached sandstone, are fortified yet austere, their flat rooftops creating geometric patterns against the stark landscape.\n\nAres himself, clad in Spartan-inspired armor that gleams with the radiance of polished bronze, stands below the towering statue. His armor, etched with symbols of ancient warfare, reflects his divine status and martial prowess. His existence within the area was part of a broader strategy to make more frequent appearances at war camps. Ares was on a pursuit to reroute the minds of his followers towards embodying the true spirit of battle and steering them away from the savagery of needless war crimes. An epiphany that arrived after he was forced to punish a group of soldiers by death when witnessing them take the lives of defenseless women and children in the god's name.\n⠀\nIn the central clearing, right around the statue, soldiers clad in leather and bronze armor spar intensely, the clang of blades and grunts of exertion reverberating through the camp. They wield long spears, swords, axes and heavy shields, each warrior training relentlessly for their next campaign. Battle plans etched on animal skins are unfurled on wooden tables, where seasoned commanders discuss strategies. They point and gesture, eyes narrowing under the midday sun as they scrutinize potential weak spots on their enemies' maps.\n⠀\n\nRows of tents stretch outward from the central statue, housing the soldiers who organize weapons and polish armor in the open. They also tend to horses, feeding and grooming the beasts for their next charge across the unforgiving desert terrain. Servants and slaves scuttle between the structures, carrying provisions, filling water skins, and distributing dried meat and grain to keep the army fed and ready.\n\nFurther down the camp, artisans work tirelessly on construction projects. They reinforce battlements, sharpen arrowheads, and build siege engines out of timber and rope. Exercise grounds brim with activity as warriors train their bodies through drills, lifting heavy stones and sprinting across dusty tracks.\n\nEvery path and alley is well-trodden with disciplined order, as the soldiers, armor glinting under the sun, stride through the camp, their minds focused on their god's command. The centrally placed statue of Ares casts a long shadow across the settlement, a silent reminder of the power he wields and the battles yet to come. Below the statue, Ares, mounted atop a war horse, overlooks the sparring soldiers, shouting out corrections on their form and insulting those who embarrass themselves, causing the others to laugh in mockery.\n⠀\n\nIn the distance, the war god notices a frail messenger squeezing between the soldiers, a disheartened look upon his face as if he was about to deliver some unwelcome news. Assuming that the message was connected to the current issue, Ares spoke to the small man first as he approached. \"Report, messenger. What causes the delay in our provisions?\" He commanded sternly.\n\nThe soldier responded hesitantly, \"My lord Ares, the next delivery cart has been delayed. It encountered a basilisk attack on the eastern passage and the soldiers-.\"\n\n\"Nevermind that.\" Ares dismissed with a wave of his hand, a tinge of annoyance melting into his expression. \"I'm assuming this basilisk also ravaged the cart's contents, yes?\"\n\n\"Yes, my lord,\" The soldier continued, \"As well as many of our men—\"\n\nAres cut him off as a show of his impatience. \"I don't care. How long until the next delivery arrives?\"\n\n\"It should be here by nightfall, once we clear the path and rally more men to secure the—\" The soldier tried to explain, but was again cut off.\n\n\"Nightfall?!\" Ares interjected abruptly, sharply turning his head to look upon the man for the very first time in their exchange. The raising of his voice caused the messenger to shutter as his lips parted, vacant of words that he thought might calm the god down.\n\n\"Your will shall be done, my lord,\" The soldier assured quickly, sensing the urgency of the matter.\n\n\"Ensure it,\" Ares concluded firmly, watching the man bow in respect before departing to execute his new orders. Ares resumed what he was doing before, except his mood was now slightly soured by his growing hunger. \"The next soldier I see dawdling in an opening will spar with me next, so please, keep fucking up!\" Ares proclaimed from atop his horse, instilling a renewed sense of urgency in the men as they trained." }, { "author": "GANYMEDE", "message": "Ganymede stood amidst the ruins of Troy, the memories of his past life as a mortal prince washing over him with a wave of nostalgia. The once grand city, now laid ruin to the ravages of time and war, held stories in every fragmented wall and crumbled pillar. He walked through what was once the grand palace, where he had spent his days learning the arts of diplomacy and warfare, playing with his brothers, and dining with his family. The echoes of laughter, the vibrant colours of their banners, the aroma of feasts—all seemed to linger faintly in the air like the whispers of ghosts.\n\nHowever, his reflective focus was abruptly shattered by the sight of flickering flames in the distance and the low murmur of voices carried by the wind. As he approached, he saw a group of armoured women, their forms illuminated by the torches they carried. Among them, a figure struggled, attempting to break free from their grasp. The prisoner, a young man, fought valiantly, but his efforts were in vain. With swift, brutal efficiency, the women overpowered him, pinning him against a large, flat stone slab before brandishing a knife.\n\nHis eyes widened in alarm. The scene resembled an ancient Scythian sacrificial rite, the barbaric ritual he had only heard of in old stories. The captive's fear was palpable, and the women's faces, hard and resolute, showed no mercy. Instinctively, Ganymede stepped forward, his presence causing a subtle shift in the atmosphere. The group leader, noticing the change, turned her gaze towards him. Her eyes narrowed, a mixture of suspicion and curiosity flickering across her face. **\"What is the meaning of this?\"** Ganymede demanded, his voice carried authority yet underlined with compassion that had always been his nature.\n\nThe leader stepped forward, her grip on the sword tightening. \"This is no concern of yours, stranger,\" She replied, her tone firm before attempting to plunge the sword into the prisoner.\n\nWithout hesitation, the youthful god called upon his divine power, summoning a physical manifestation of love. The air shimmered with a radiant, golden light as it took form, a powerful wave of energy that radiated warmth. With a gesture, Ganymede directed the force toward the group of armed women. The energy surged forward, hitting them with a palpable intensity that was gentle and overwhelming. The leader's sword was knocked from her hand, and she, along with her companions, was forcefully thrown to the ground, their armour clattering as they fell.\n\nThe prisoner, wide-eyed and trembling, watched in awe and disbelief as the scene unfolded. The women, momentarily stunned and disoriented, struggled to rise, their expressions a mix of shock and confusion. \"This has only just begun.\" The group leader venomously spat out, then fled with her fellow companions.\n\n**\"You are safe now.\"** He reassured the man, a faint smile grace his lips. The air seemed to calm down, and the night grew quiet once more.\n\nUpon discovering the prisoner was a descendant of his family, captured as a prisoner of war, shocked Ganymede and would explain why he felt the sudden urge to protect the mortal from harm's way, ensuring he was safe for now. This is why the youthful god found himself searching for the God of War, understanding that the sacrifices were in his name; if there were one person who could stop this rite, it would be Ares. However, the group leader's words ran through Ganymede's head like a broken record. What did she mean by that?\n\nIt appeared to be like any other day for them; soldiers clad in leather and bronze armour sparred intensely. However, some men noticed rose petals blowing in the breeze. Suddenly, golden light shimmered in the air, casting a warm glow over the immediate area. Amid this beautiful display, Ganymede materialised before them all. Though little was left to the imagination, the youthful god wore a pristine white toga lined with gold. His upper arms were adorned with golden bracelets, and atop his head was a golden wreath nestled in his brunette curls.\n\nMomentarily, his eyes shifted around the area, noting a few of Ares' soldiers looked at Ganymede with devilish eyes, a recognisable desire he knew far too well. However, the god was here on business, not pleasure. His eyes snapped back to the God of War. **\"I must urgently speak with you, Lord Ares.\"** He softly spoke, and a warm smile followed after.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Ares", "message": "The god Ares sat with his fist balled into his neck. Eyes scanning carefully over each warrior as they lunged at one another, alternating between different fighting stances and battle scenarios. Their lack of passion bored him greatly, it was as if you truly needed to take that of which they loved in order to ignite in them the kind of vicious bloodlust that the god of war seemed to possess so innately. For a god such as Ares, it was more than merely knowing how to strike and defend. It was more than being brave and courageous. It was about the wanting, almost lustful look in your eye that yearned for the spilling of blood. Like a ravenous tiger finally finding its prey within a destitute expanse. But just when he'd thought the greatest highlight of his night could at least be his late-arriving dinner, something very unexpected transpired...\n\nThe already orange badlands were intensified in a glowing coat from up above. It was as if the sun was sighting them through a magnifying glass, the way the solar energy brightened their bodies and blinded their eyes. Ares slowly removed his fist from his neck as he sat up in his seat, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he stared directly upon the skyward gleam when none other could. Not even this light could illuminate the abyss within his eyes as his gaze remained stout.\n\n\"MEN!\" The war god bellowed powerfully, the sound of a thousand sheathes could be heard as the soldiers rallied a battle stance in unison. Their feet pressed into the ground like roots of a tree as they prepared themselves. Ares stood from his seat, his iconic spear lay over his shoulder as he stepped down from the pedestal and descended the steps at a leisurely pace. The whole time, his gaze still remained unwavering. None knew what to expect from the beam. A beast? A god? Something in-between? Well, what would materialize in front of them in the moments following was certainly the very least of their expectations . . . \n⠀\n\nDown came a flamboyant boy who appeared no older than many of the men's sons. Not just a boy, but a god. In subtle shifts, the mass majority of the brigade began to soften their stances, believing themselves clear from a threat. Even if that was true, they knew that Ares would have their head for such a trusting perception. Ares too had not looked as nearly as threatened as he had before. He stopped in his tracks upon seeing the boy, standing stiffly around a group of soldiers. His eyes followed the boy throughout his entire approach. His chin raised slightly to accentuate an inflated sense of self worth. In truth, Ares did not immediately recognize the boy, but knew that he was familiar.\n\nIt was only when he began to speak, did Ares completely recall . . . \"The cupbearer?\" He said with a face that depicted the words 'you can't be serious.' He looked as if he wanted to break out into a laugh, but stifled it in order to continue speaking. \"They view me as small as to send me the cupbearer as a messenger?\" Ares says in a chuckle that is joined by the surrounding soldiers in feigned laughter. As he walks past the boy, he deliberately bumps his shoulder as their paths cross. Ares grabs the reins of his war horse and tugs them upwards to make the horse lift its chin, peeking under to check the firmness of its helm. \n⠀\n\n\"Cupbearer . . \" He utters again, quietly muttering to himself. He sounds much more serious. It's as if he is trying to suppress his frustration from the building annoyance that he feels from such an implication. Was the god of speed too busy? Or did they truly view him so lowly as to send a boy to his war camp, all by his lonesome. The warriors around them resumed their training, indistinct chatter refilling the momentarily quiet air. They acted as if nothing had happened at all. Which is exactly what he wanted them to do. This was no matter of importance.\n\n\"What do you need, boy? Speak as if you're about to explode. Waste my time and I will waste your life.\" He said while refusing to face the boy in a show of respect. As he spoke, he emphasized certain words with an undertone of scorn. To be fair, it was rare that he hadn't sounded this way. But it was much more conspicuous here. Ares is almost entirely separated from their exchange. Mentally, he wonders if Aphrodite would truly allow such an offense as this." } ]

[ { "author": "~Calliope Winters~", "message": "***Gone was the usually sunny, bright day in Olympian. Clouds seeming to overlook the sky now, casting a dark shadow that matched the fear and tension in the air. For Calliope, she had been working in the forge since the early morning. Once the afternoon had rolled around, she decided to head out to get something for her and Hephaestus to have for lunch. It was when she was inside the nearest cafe chaos had ensued. She had only just met her father, and come to know the truth of her life and that of the city around her. Gods lived amongst the demigods and humans, taking on forms that looked like any average person. The revelation alone had come as a shock to her, but she was far from prepared for what was taking place. The dead... The dead now roamed amongst the living. Some seeking their vengence and attacking whoever they can. Others... Looking to find their loved ones they wish they had more time with. Callie had promised her father she would be back at the forge, but that wouldn't happen.***\n\n***She had meant to send him a quick message, but the cafe had been raided by the undead. Humans and demigods alike running about to escape them. Calliope herself, dropped the food she had and bolted out into the streets. Fear instantly overtaking her senses, adrenaline rushing through her veins at the need for survival. Though she was a demigod, she was far from experienced in fighting them off. She was grateful for the pocketknife she kept on her at all times, knowing eventually it would come in handy. Her head darted back and forth, her feet carrying her as fast as she could from those attacking. She had come close a few times, shoving a few out of her way. Having forgotten her own strength, she sent some of them flying to the ground. She couldn't think straight, too much had been happening as it was... And now this happens.***\n\n***Calliope found herself an alley, ducked behind the trash the businesses kept outside for pick up. Her back resting against it as she did her best\n\nTo calm her nerves. Moments ago, she had been cornered by a group of angry souls. Those who sought to bring more discord and mayhem through harm. Her knife had been useless, and there were far too many around her. She had been outnumbered... Until someone had come to help her. She was grateful for it... Other than the attitude he seemed to carry with him. She had found shelter with him, but he went off. And so did she, to try to make her way back to the forge. Having wandered much farther away from it as she had wanted to. She wasn't exactly sure which part of town she was in, she didn't recognize her surroundings. Or maybe it was the sheer panic in her body that kept her from any rational thinking. How could this happen? How is it the dead have come back... To life? She asked herself this over and over again as she remained hidden and seated. Her ears perked up for any noises coming her way.***\n\n***Another thought had crossed her mind. If the dead were now back on this earth...,would that mean her mother was too? Was she wandering aimlessly through the streets of Olympian looking for her daughter? Or was she still in the underworld? Calliope held little knowledge on how the underworld worked, would the souls who found their peace remain there? It was a hard concept for her to grasp. As much as she longed to see her mother, she knew that her leaving would only break her more. Callie had said her goodbye, she didn't want to have to do it again. Shaking her head slightly, she focused back on the present now. She clenched her knife tightly in her hand, her backpack she always carried with her rested besides her on the ground. Her heart thundering in her chest, body tensed and alert more than ever. She was scared, terrified more than ever now. It was too quiet other than the occasional sound of someone passing by... Who it was she wasn't sure. She wouldn't find out. Each footstep only made her jolt.***" }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "Pan has just gotten out of the mess that was the Cabaret, his suit was ruined, torn as the zombies piled in. The god was not having a good time. He hated dealing with undead, and had felt weak from his excessive use of his powers. At one point findings garbage and throws up blood inside, wiping his bloody mouth and moving off. Needing to keep going to get to Athena, especially after the call. Pan hair was a mess. Athena would have the answer, should know what to do. \n\nPan took a breath as he kept walking, his hooves echoing the streets, it was clear, people having run away inside their homes or to safe spots within the city. Pan mentally was tired, so the illusion around him was weaker than normal, meaning many could see what he truly was. His hooves and horns are visible to the supernatural public much easier without pushing against him. Pan still held his weapon of choice, a Pool stick, if the god who caused this problem... Was gonna be the reason he was stuck in this situation, he may as well pay with weapons for him to defend himself with. \n\nHe took a breath as he walked, he then noticed a few souls ahead of him. Making him pause, then smirk he needs to release some frustration. The reason many fear the wild, he whistled at the zombies in front of him the group turned to him. One growling before charging at Pan which Pan returned. Rushing at him, twirling the stick just right before jamming it straight into the creature's eye then kicking the monster a distance away into a car. Just as a second one shipped at him which he dogged, laughing. The god stumbled a bit, making him go Woah, before catching himself and moving out of the way of a bite. \"Cute!\"\n\n_ _\nHe calls out with a laugh, as the third zombie comes at him along with the second one. Both tag teaming him, as he twirls the pool stick, smacking their hands away from him. Looking around he tried to figure a way to help him. He groans as one swipes at him and hits him. He hissed looking at the wound before growling at the zombie. No longer going on the defensive, he charged forward. Using the stick to push the two zombies back as he yelled out, crashing them into a car nearby. He lifted one left and hit one in its stomach then punched the other in the face, trading blows as he trapped the monsters. Not noticing the one moving behind him till it jumped onto his back. He cries out and hisses, grabbing the zombie and throwing him off him as the zombie tore skin off with his teeth. \n\nPan brought his hand up to the wound, it wouldn't kill him. Thankfully, as he stared at the 3 zombies as they looked ready to fight. Pan no longer having his stick was stuck fighting with his fist and horns. Pan cracked his knuckle, letting his true form slip away more, in his normal height, standing a couple of inches taller, towering the zombies. The wild gods' gold chains dangled along with gems, his hooves didn't look normal, more wooden than a goat. His hands grew fur moss that ran up to his forearm, the god roared loudly at the Zombies to cause panic and hesitation as Pan charged at them. He grabbed one slamming it to the ground and stomping down hard on its head with his hooves. As the other two zombies charged at him.\n\n_ _\nPan moved out of the way of one swiped at him which he kicked away into a car, he then charged at the other with his horns, his horns piercing into the zombie. It screamed out trying to free itself from Pan who just grabbed it's legs and began to pull. Tearing it apart, it kept screaming till silence. The god of the wild soaked in its blood as it turned to the last zombie that finally got off the car, twisted body. Pan growled, inhuman, as the too charged at each other then began trading blows with one another. The god of the wild, companions of Nymphs and Satyr was not a god so willing to back down. As he growled loudly, having grabbed the zombie head and slammed the creature into the car hood. Repeating till he finally felt it was dead. \n\nPan panting, standing there bloody, from his own wound and from the zombies mixed together. Pan stared at nothing for a moment as he looked down at his bloody hands, the god was sure he would be fine. He needed to get to a safe pla- \n\nHe paused and sniffed the air, smelling something. Someone was near, he turned his head one way then another before walking he then disappeared. Reappearing on the rooftop above where the demigod was, his form back to normal again, once again looking like a normal Satyr." }, { "author": "Calliope Winters", "message": "***Calliope stiffened when she heard... Was it hooves? She couldn't necessarily tell what it was, or perhaps she had grown delirious from the adrenaline rushing through her veins. She believed to have heard hooves coming down the street, her head peaking out from where she hid. She couldn't see much, but she could hear each and every sound. It was dead quiet, the undead souls lurking about. Looking for those they can attack.*** \n\n***She kept her head poking out, getting a glimpse of the souls... And what looked to be a half man half goat. A satyr they called them, at least from what she remembered in her classes about mythology. She still hadn't grown too used to it. Her eyes widened as she listened to the fight ensuing, tucking herself back into her hiding place. Gods forbid she was caught by one of the souls, she had already escaped from one detrimental situation. She certainly wasn't looking for yet another to get herself into. Calliope cringed with each sound that rung out, the crunching and sloshing of flesh. The struggle that seemed to be put up, by which side she didn't know.*** \n\n***It was when the fight ended, she heard nothing but an eerie silence. She peaked her head out again, seeing the dead souls on the ground... Though they technically were already dead. Her green eyes looking out for whoever fought them off, but she didn't see much. It was as quiet as it had been before. Calliope rested back against the large trash can she had hidden behind, tilting her head up and physically relaxing.*** \n\n***Her eyes closed for a moment, chest rising and falling slowly as she took in deep breaths to calm her racing heart. When her eyes finally opened, she saw the figure of someone up on the roof. She instantly stilled in her spot, feeling frozen in place. Her hand instantly reaching for the knife she had on her, body inching away from its hiding spot. If it was what she thought, she would have to make a run for it. Or else, she would have to put up yet another fight for her" }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "Pan above her, looking down at her, like a devil from above as his horn visible in view and his hooves remained, he was slouched down. As he blinked slowly, his head tilted one way then another as he sniffed the air, smelling the demigod. He quickly realized the mortal noticed him. That was good, it means the girl had good eyes. He was unsure what to do, as he stared at her, remaining. He expected her to run but she remained, clutching her tiny mischief knife. Ah- she is moving.\n\nHis eyes watched her like a hawk from above as she moved, he was quick though, he knew he couldn't let her run into danger. He sniffed the air again and knew the undead was close. He knew it wasn't safe for her. He smiled slowly at her before disappearing from view and appearing at her next step. \"I'm sorry,\" He says quickly, grabbing just a piece or part of her, taking any hit or damage she struck at him to bring her up to safety. He teleported her along with him, just as the undead turned down the alleyway. \n\nThe god placed them on the rooftop, and moved away from the girl, raising his hand up. Knowing she probably didn't feel well from that trip. He stared over the ledge to see the undead snapping their teeth and sniffing the air. Trying to spot where the blood came from. Pan knew he was attracting them, and frowned a bit. He was annoyed, his nose started to bleed, as it normally did, but he knew he had one more try left. \n\n\"Sorry about that, I had to get you out of there clutches before they got to yah. Pan\" He says holding out his hand, \"God of the Wilds, Rockstar extraordinary\" He jokes gently not being too loud not wanting to attract any danger to them. \"You have 3 questions, best ask them now or forever hold your peace. You got a safe place? Or you want me to take you to the safest place I know.\"" }, { "author": "Calliope Winters", "message": "***Calliope looked around frantically as he disappeared from her sight, squeaking in surprise and jumping away when he suddenly appeared right by her. Green eyes wide as she took him in... Horns and all. She was frozen in a state of shock, but quickly snapped out of it when he grabbed onto her. Swinging her knife in self defense... Definitely missing him though. She could barely catch his apology, their movements too fast for her to interpret. First she's in the alley and now on the roof alongside the stranger. Glancing down between the two, she stuttered as she spoke.*** \n\n\"I-you just... How did you do that?\" ***She demanded, cautiously taking his hand.*** \"You just... We were just...\" ***She trailed off, shaking her head.*** \"Pan... God of the wilds... That explains the uhh horns and all. I- where did you come from?\" ***She wasn't sure what to ask him, it was shock enough seeing the undead let alone now the god of the wild. How many of them lurked around?*** \n\n***Calliope did her best to clear her head, taking a deep breath and calming the shake that was in her limbs. It was all overwhelming, but she could hear the groans of the undead approaching from below... She was lucky he seen her. She would've once again been surrounded by them, and this time she was unsure if she would have even made it. She was lucky the last time, having realized her own natural strength that came with the blood running through her veins. Her green eyes rested on Pan now, her head nodding slowly.*** \n\n\"Calliope, Calliope is my name. I- I am supposed to be back at my father's forge, but I do not know if that place is even safe anymore. We should... Go wherever is safest. Umm, do you know why this is happening? Because this is seriously freaking me out like everybody else is.\" ***She said calmly, taking deep breaths to keep herself that way.***" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "A labyrinthine network of shops and boutiques specializing in weaponry and armor. The district is a bustling marketplace filled with the clinking of armor, the hum of enchanted weapons, and the presence of those adorned in battle regalia." }, { "author": "Alexios || Conner Donnelly", "message": "To most people, Conner Donnelly was a nobody. He passed through the streets of Olympian without a face, blending into the crowds under a hood that partially covered his face. Anyone who ventured to take a second glance didn't see anyone special, and he wasn't a familiar face. He didn't have his likeness sculpted into the marble statues adorning the street corners or the fronts of fancy buildings. There were no paintings of him in the art galleries or museums. No one knew who Conner Donnelly was, and he wanted to keep it that way. \n\nUnder the guise of \"Conner,\" He could come and go as he pleased. Slip in and out godly districts and buildings without being noticed. Keep an eye on areas of interest without being suspicious. Enter Athena's Academia without so much as an alarm being sounded. It was necessary for him, considering he had been training under Athena's tutelage ever since Jessie's death, learning how to use ancient, godly weapons rather than the mundane guns of the mortal world. \n\nNo one realized that it was Alexios, the Son of Zeus and Champion of Mortal Realm that walked through the Armory District in Ares Heights. If they had, they might have stopped him for whatever reason; he was more famous than he wanted to be, but such was the price of the life he now lived. \n\nHe was just existing a weaponry shop when he noticed the deep shadows crawling up the sides of buildings, blanketing first the streets, then the monuments, then the tallest buildings until the entire city was shrouded in darkness. Blue eyes trailed up to the sky where the sun was stolen by shadows. The only light that pierced the veil were the street lamps and the fluorescents that shined through the windows of businesses. But even those weren't strong enough to illuminate the streets.\n\nThen came a scream. \n\nConner's attention snapped in that direction, but his eyes couldn't find the source. \n\nThe another scream. \n\nAnd another. \n\nWhat followed was a stampede of bodies running in all directions but one, confused and lost and searching for a safe place. They were all running from the same area, so Conner decided to focus on what was happening there. His hood fell away as he charged toward the darkness, reaching back to draw his sword from its sheath. His mortal mask fell away and he became Alexios as he prepared to defend those in need. He stopped only when the army of fleeing citizens seemed to end, and waited to see what it was they ran from. \n\nStumbling under a street light came his first view of the culprit - a crooked mess of a man who looked human from a distance, but Conner realized quickly that there was something wrong. Following the crooked man was a woman with a limp, who was dragging her foot along the sidewalk as if she couldn't feel it. And that's when he knew. \n\nHades had risen the dead." }, { "author": "Klama", "message": "Achilles felt something was wrong, the air felt... Heavy and smelled of death as he moved towards the city, something was wrong. His horse let out a sound of distress, the demigod knew something was wrong, something was happening in the city of gods and mortals. He let out a soft yah, and rushed his horse towards the city that he hasn't seen in years. \n\nIt was a nightmare, as mortals screamed in fear running away from monsters no not monsters... The undead was alive. He cursed under his breath as he pulled out a tube that extended into his spear, and began to race through the street. His horse charged into the undead, as he cut off their head as they passed by. Trying his best to attract their attention away from the living. Which was working, as a group of them remained on their tail as they kept running through the streets. \n\nAchilles knew these streets, even as they changed in time, he went through alleyways he remembered. Achilles was no fool he couldn't save everyone but he can save the few he can as he passes them. Shouting to go into their homes and lock the doors. Remain inside. As he rode, his plan was to head to the armory, to get men to help with this madness. He rode hard and fast.\n\n_ _\nThe screams echoed the streets, of those he couldn't save, pleads of safety and help in the distance. \n\nAchilles would help few that come in his path but most would be left for dead. He hated it, he hated this, but war and death wasn't something new to him. He has seen men die for less, men die for more. The gods must be laughing, enjoying the mortal sadness and despair. His hood remains, his face still covered, his mind full of fear and worry of what to come. \n\nHis horse let out a hey, as Achilles noticed something ahead, he was entering Ares district, and spotted a creature in his way. He lifted his spear and threw it through the air towards it and pierced it, but the creature remained standing as he scratched at his horse, freaking the war horse out and knocking Achilles off. \"Fuck-\" He groans, he quickly got up and whistle for the horse to return home. He got where he needed to be so he could walk the rest home." }, { "author": "Alexios || Conner Donnelly", "message": "The darkness was thick and oppressive, rendering street lights almost completely useless except as an eerie spotlight. When a zombie walked underneath, the foggy haze made them look like demonic shadows ambling toward their targets. Cracking fingers reached from the darkness, grabbing onto anything - anyone - they could reach and yanking them back into it. \n\nAlexios was doing what he could to buy innocent people time to escape. He cut down every zombie that came across his path - lopping off heads, putting bullet holes in their brains, smashing their skulls into solid walls. A few people started helping him, inspired by his will to fight. Some fell in battle beside him while others were dragged into the darkness screaming. Alexios tried to save them, but there were too many things going on at once. Too many zombies to fight and too many people to save. \n\n\"Get inside!\" He shouted, ushering everyone toward the armory since it was the closest building to them right then. Those unable to escape could be barricaded inside until more help came; he didn't want to lose anyone else. \n\nBut how long would this madness go on?\n\nAs the last person ran through the doors of one of the buildings, Alexios turned to stand against the oncoming horde. It suddenly hit him how many there were. Endless amounts of undead poured from the darkness, impossible to tell which direction they would come from next. They all moved toward him - slow and steady, but focused on their singular target. \n\nThat was until he heard the screech of a horse's whinny, then a crash before he saw the silhouette of the creature gallop by without a rider. He rushed toward the noise, shoving an undead man out of his way as he broke through the crowd. The zombies continued to turn to follow him, drawn to him because he was a demigod or just the first moving target they could find, he wasn't sure. \n\nHe found the rider by chance while running toward the sound of a whistle. \"Hey! The streets are overrun, let's get you inside!\"" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "At the highest peak of Ares Heights lies the Forge of Ares - a legendary smithy where divine weapons are forged for the gods. Skilled blacksmiths, blessed by Ares himself, work tirelessly to create weapons imbued with godly power. The rhythmic clang of hammers striking anvils reverberates through the heights, symbolizing ceaseless preparation for battles to come." }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Word didn't have to get around quickly about Ares' son, Citro. The boy screamed it violently, and had caused a ruckus to a mortal sized calamity. It wasn't much of a secret to any God that the boy was ill equipped to harness the helm of his father. Where there was adversity, there was opportunity, and Alastor hadn't been on perfect terms with Ares' too loud, and boisterous nature, on his end anyways. Whether or not Ares knew that wasn't much of Alastor's problem. There was always someone who didn't like somebody. Rather, the issue was his overt negligence towards Citro. Not that the God was any type of father figure, but he was a God who leveraged the mistakes of others over their heads so they would have no other choice than to suffer from their consequences. It was his favorite game.~ \nAlastor didn't need time to think about who he was going to talk to, to tell him more about Ares' helm. He knew who made it. Hephaestus. The Forge master and brother to Ares. Another ill concluded situation that Ares had to know he was not above retribution for. \n\nAlastor, in his sauve and sleek modern outfit phased out darkness nearby. It was nighttime, the perfect time for him to travel and move; when other Olympians were exhausted from their days and ready to calm down, the night time had the opposite effect on Alastor. He was energetic and giddy with mischief. Like a poltergeist after someone found it's cursed item, he was on the prowl. Sliding his body against the doorframe of the entrance of the Forge, bright eyes landed on the red hot iron on the anvil. The heavy slam of the God's hammer willed the metal into shape, whether It wanted to or not. \n\n**\"You work much too late in the day. Don't you ever relax, Heph?\"** Alastor asked, knowing he sounded like the collective of those who berated the old Forge master for rarely taking a break. He waited for him to look up, as his presence was to be seen less as an intrusion, and more as a queue to take a seat. \n\nAlastor was never in a\n\nNy rush when it came to his visits, and it was common for some Gods to see him once a week, if not more. It had been awhile, maybe two weeks at best, since he'd seen Hephaestus. The burning mouth of the forge lay open, empty, but ready to be fed the item the other was working on in the next round of heating - obedient, and patient. The warmth caressed his arms, and invited him in further from his current position, and he listened. Alastor stepped further inside, moving closer to the furnace, and closer to Heph. He found a stool nearby and welcomed himself to sit in it. His gaze studied the shape of the item he was forging, before flicking up to his face." }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Though possessing godly powers and abilities beyond human comprehension, Hephaestus was all too aware of the cruel irony of his situation. Not only had the fates bestowed him with divine status, but they also cursed him with a broken and flawed body. This made him the subject of ridicule among his fellow gods, who largely looked down on him due to his physical limitations. \n\nHis physical disability made him an outcast, even to his own flesh and blood family for the most part. It had been that way for as long as Hephaestus could remember, and in a sad, twisted way it was comforting, that familiarity. He knew it and what to expect and over the millennia had almost grown numb to it... Almost. It was a daily struggle against the pain, physical and mental, that the fates had dealt him, determined to prove himself despite his apparent limitations. He was tired of being the punching bag and just taking the blows that always seemed to be falling his way. He had more to fight back for now. He had a daughter. He had a reason to finally stand up for himself, or at least start trying to. \n\nBaby steps. They were still steps at least... That evening the sound of metal being coaxed into shape echoed throughout stonework forge, and it calmed him in a way nothing else did. It was just him, his thoughts, and the pieces he worked so tirelessly on. This was where he belonged - not scheming or plotting like many others of his family. No, he was content with his work, creating masterpieces that would outlive them all and be around perhaps even after their initial purpose was fulfilled. It was then a voice cut through the depths of his thoughts and pulled him from the near trance he was in as he worked. \n\n\"You work much too late in the day. Don't you ever relax, Heph?\"\n\nA small, genuine smile tugged on the corners of the god's mouth as he heard the familiar voice. Alastor, always one to come and check on him, which Hephaestus would likely never let on about how much that simple gesture meant to him. He watched with a mixture of gratitude and admiration as the god claimed his usual seat by the forge, the bright flames reflecting keenly in his eyes. As he glanced at his work in progress, Hephaestus couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the progress he had made so far. \n\nThe rhythmic crackling of embers echoed through the cavernous workshop, creating a comforting backdrop for their conversation. \"Ah, you know me,\" Hephaestus chuckled as he wiped his hands on a cloth, \"Better to keep the hands and brain busy than let them idle and wander for too long.\" He gave his friend a warm smile, grateful for the company and conversation. With a glance around the forge, realizing how dim everything was outside the glow of the forge, Hephaestus confidently reached over and plucked out a glowing ember with his bare hands. The intense heat had no effect on him, handing the smoldering coal with the ease and strength of a true god of fire and forges. A serene grin spread across his face as he strolled over to the iron lantern hanging near where Alastor had seated himself. \n\nShowing off? Maybe a little. It was his one guilty pleasure, showing off his power and control over the flames he was so innately connected to. With practiced precision, he lowered the glowing ember into its designated spot, watching as the flame ignited and cast a warm glow throughout the workshop.\n\nThe crackling of burning wood chips in the base and the pungent smell of molten metal filled the air, a familiar scent that Hephaestus found comfort in as he turned and looked towards his visitor. The thin whisps of smoke seemed to weave around him, surrounding him like a warm embrace from an old friend. He could feel the heat radiating from the forge, beckoning him back to come and create... But he had other business to attend to. \"What brings you to the forge this late my shadowy friend? If you are here about your piece, it is finished and ready for you\" Hephaestus said, a grin spreading over his face as he nodded towards the work bench. \n\n||" }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Alastor listened to Hephaestus' reply of keeping his \"Brain and hands busy\". That was more than Alastor did on a daily basis. Rarely were his hands tied up in work, but he supposed where he lacked for action, he made up for in sweet words and scheming. The God watched as the Forge Master brought the coal with his bare hands to the lantern nearby and was always amazed when he did so. Once, early on, Alastor had tried to do the same, but he ended up scorching his fingertips immediately. It was obvious that he did not possess the same abilities that Heph did and he respected him all the more for it. That is all to say that Alastor never tried to tempt the flames of the forge again. It had been centuries since that time, and only through out the eras had the two Gods become familiar with one another. A friendship formed, and now, there was little to separate the fondness that Alastor held towards Heph so dearly. He didn't ask for all of this shit that happened to him. Not the state of his body, or the incident with Aphrodite and Ares. If Heph wanted to create his own Retribution, he needed to start throwing that hammer of his at people's heads. \nFucking idiots. \n\nAlastor did recognize that the man did have a soft heart, however. He could be too docile at times, and Alastor enjoyed casting shadows of the others who wronged him... As a reminder.~ \n\n**\"That I am. Though, that's not the only reason I am here.~\"** Alastor leaned himself against a pole, folding his arms over his chest to relax more fully. \n**\"I have been witnessing some stirring amongst the demigods as of late, and in particular... Your nephews.\"** Alastor jumped right into the topic. There was a mess that needed to be cleaned up. \"The blonde one, Citro. The hothead has gifted his helm to him, and he is unable to control it. I have seen it and it is truly a sad sight.\" Alastor's tone was filled with pity, like a southerner's \"Bless your heart\". \n\n**\"To be frank, the child is too weak hearted to handle the eff\n\nEcts of the helm. I'm sure you'd agree. And Ares is too absent to teach him. He's never been that good of a stand-up comedian to land the joke of making his children \"Useful.\" I'm disgusted at his lack of... Anything.\"** Alastor believed that Ares was well past due for the consequences for all of his actions. \n\nThis was just the third strike. \n**\"And I have a proposition for you.~\"** The God of Retribution gave Hephaestus a charming smile, one that hid venom in his mouth." }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus' expression grew somber as he listened to Alastor, his mind heavy with the same worries and concerns his friend was expressing. Ares. The idiot brother who was far too brash and arrogant for his own good... Even as the God of War his cruelty seemed to know no end. And it was poor Citro who was bearing the brunt of it now. \n\n\"My brother is a fool, running on fools errands half the time\" Hephaestus said shaking his head. \"He only cares about those he can shape and use as tools in his endless war games. Of all the sons, Citro should have been the last one to get his father's helmet.\" \n\nThere was a darkness behind the forge master's eyes as he looked into the glowing embers of the flames, the golden lights reflecting in his eyes as he did. \"I've regretted the day I finished that helmet ever since Ares first wore it,\" He said with a heavy sigh. \"Had I known then what Ares had planned, just how far this war would go, and what extremes he would go to for his petty revenge... I would never have made it in the first place.\" \n\nThe forge master's hand gripped the handle of his cane tightly, knuckles white with the strain. He remembered that day like it was yesterday - Ares striding into his workshop, his eyes ablaze with passion and ambition.\n\n** \"Hephaestus,\" He'd growled out, \"I need your help with something.\" The way he said it sent shivers down Hephaestus' spine; there was an urgency to those words that just couldn't be ignored. It was rare for Ares to approach him for anything directly, so Hephaestus knew it must be something Ares considered personal and important for him to come to the forge himself. \"I need you to craft a helmet that will enhance my powers,\" He had continued. \"Something that will make me unstoppable on the battlefield.\" \n\nThe god of craftsmanship had been hesitant at first; he knew well enough what kind of destruction Ares was capable of with just his bare hands and regular weapons. Yet, the thought of proving his worth to his brother was a powerful motivator, as was the unspoken threat he had seen in his brother's eyes. And so Hephaestus had set to work. Days turned into weeks as he poured all of his skill and knowledge into creating the perfect artifact - a gleaming helmet covered in intricate designs that seemed to shift and move with the changing light. \n\nAres of course had been thrilled with the helmet and his first act of testing its power was to take a swing at his brother. He should have expected it, considering it was Ares, and he was always his brother's favorite punching bag. But it had still caught Hephaestus off guard and he had carried the insulting bruise on his face for longer than he had wished. But it was just the first of many outbursts that would come the first of many acts of violence done by his brother. And every time Hephaestus witnesses his brother in action there was that feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had helped make Ares that much more powerful... **\n\nAs the crackle of the embers in the forge echoed in the now eerily quiet forge, Hephaestus was drawn out from his memories. He turned and gave a somewhat apologetic smile to Alastor.\"What is this proposition you speak of?\" He asked as he shifted slightly, leaning more towards his friend as he rested his arms over the top of his cane. \"You definitely have my attention.\"\n\n||" }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Alastor watched the older God with interest, his head tilting gently to one side as he spoke of the war and creating Ares' helm. There was some other look that couldn't be placed that pulled the corner of his mouth to tuck into his cheek in a press more than a tug. \nUnconvinced, he was, perhaps, that Hephaestus would have dared say \"No\" To Ares' request of the helmet. \n\n**\"Dwelling on hindsight is the folly of mortals,\"** He began, giving grace for the forge master to separate himself from his woes and speaking as it was below them. Nothing against the mortal man, but it was a harsh hierarchy that Alastor couldn't ignore. Once the god of curses was pressed for more information, he smirked. \n\n**\"I plan on getting onto the boy's good side, and convince him that in his father's absence, that I can and would be there to support him. Help him learn how to control himself outside of the helmet, become stronger without it. I want to bring him to you, you can take the thing, and do what you wish. In the meantime, I will be coaxing him to join Athena. Ares' will be furious - or find it all amusing.\"** \nAres was a different God in his older age, less explosive than he once was, and a little harder to read. \n\n**\"His time for consequence has been long overdue, although I can't say for certain that this will spite him completely. He does have two sons afterall, and taking the weaker one might not be enough.\"** Alastor was willing to find the flaws in his plan, and be realistic about several outcomes. He wanted Ares to feel the sting of Citro's abandonment. \n\n**\"His sons are his pride and joy, are they not?\"** He asked Heph, looking at him expectantly for more perspective on whether or not they were all close regardless of Ares' parenting style." }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "The words dripped from Hephaestus' lips like venom, each one laced with the cold disregard he held for his brother. \"Any care or attention Ares gives to his sons is to further his games and improve his position and power\" Hephaestus said coldly. \"Him essentially kidnapping and then championing his own son shows how egotistical he is. And giving Citro his helmet with nary a care for his training or abilities speaks to his desire for power at any cost. His sons are his pride and joy so long as they are fitting his mold and his goals. They are merely pawns in his game, meant to fulfill his desires and mold to his goals.\"\n\nHephaestus leaned back against the cool, rough stone wall of his workshop, his large hands absentmindedly tracing the intricate engravings on his cane. Memories flooded his mind. \"When he told me about Douglas I tried to talk him out of his crazy plan. Begged him to let the boy have as much of a normal life as he could, at least at the start. Of course Ares couldn't be swayed from his plans. And he never even mentioned Citro till the day the boy arrives here and his give the child his helmet.\" \n\nHephaestus shook his head in disbelief at how quickly things had unfolded. The weight of regret hung heavy in his voice as he continued, \"I should have tried harder to reason with Ares. Perhaps things would be different if I had.\" A disgusted look stood on his face as the shadows and light form the glowing embers danced over his features. \"For all his brilliance and strategy my brother can be a fool.\"\n\nShaking his head slightly he focused his attention back to his friend. \"But this plan of yours... I agree that Ares needs to be taken down a peg. He's been allowed to run unchecked for far too long, and I know that part of that is on me for all these millennia not standing up to him more. But he's going too far this time between Douglas and Citro. I fear it will take a lot to begin to undo the hold he has on his elder son. Even Citro has been brainwashed by his father after all these years. But there is still hope for young Citro I believe... The helmet needs to be destroyed. Or at the very least it needs to 'disappear' for a time\" Hephaestus said as he gave Alastor a knowing nod.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Alastor sat still, listening to the words that Hephaestus nearly smelted. It was also the Vengeful God's train of thought as well. He continued to listen intently on what the forge master knew, as it was much more personal than his own accounts. It didn't make his own perspective inaccurate. Instead, it solidified his plan, and only pointed a large neon sign to Ares indiscriminate way of bolstering forces. \nIt was always without a lack of care.\n\nAlastor's lips pulled down when the other man began to berate himself. He held up a hand to stop him. \n\n**\"Little of this is any of your fault, and I will not condone another word come from your lips that it a slight against yourself. You have done more than was ever enough or necessary.\"**\nThe next sentence was a mummbled *\"Other than cast your hammer across his stupid head.'* \n\n**\"I digress. You have the right idea. We need to have the boys switch sides somehow, and I think I have a few ideas. Though, I will have to start gaining their trust, first and foremost. \nAs much as I'd wave having the honor of knowing you in their face, their lack of respect in that regard is not something I wish to rub salt into. For your sake.\"** \nAlastor gave Hephaestus a genuine smirk. \n\n**\"I do not want to take up too much of the time you should be *Resting*,\"** There was emphasis on the word, as the God of Revenge was trying to emphasis what would be more preferred. \n**\"I merely wanted to know if you were on board with such a thing. I trust you wholly, and completely.\"**\n\nAlastor stood then, looking over at the table where Hephaestus had once motioned to, in order to put on his new accessories. \nHe slipped them on with ease and the power that encompassed him was gratifying. There was a peculiar aura of silence that shrouded him, catlike in his steps. \n\n**\"Oh, Hephaestus.~\"** Alastor purred his name.\n**\"I believe you have outdone yourself.~\"**" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "\"Yes,\" Hephaestus finally declared, his voice resonating with a newfound resolve that seemed to chase away the shadows clinging to the corners of his workshop. \"This war has indeed become a bottomless pit it seems, swallowing up gods, demigods, and mortals alike. We cannot allow it to continue unchecked; too much blood has been spilled on whims of my brother and the rest. Your strategy is sound,\" He continued. \"The war has indeed taken too much from us all, and if swaying Douglas and Citro to our cause will bring about a measure of peace, then I am with you. They could potentially hold great sway among the younger demigods. If we manage to win them over, we may yet be able to stem the bloodshed and find a way to end the war.\"\n\nA smirk tugged at the corner of Hephaestus' mouth as he addressed the thinly veiled suggestion that he should be resting more. \"I will rest my friend. I give you my word. I actually have a fairly empty plate for the next few days now that your bracers are done. So you can rest assured, dear Alastor, I plan to take it easy the next few days as much as I can.\" The smile would widen slightly as Heph watched Alastor try on the new accessories. He watched with an eye of a craftsman admiring his finished work and the pride of a friend, his heart swelling with gratification at Alastor's approval.\n\nThe bracers were not mere ornaments but tools designed to help protect his friend. They were designed to augment Alastor's strength and cunning, gifts befitting the God of Revenge, who would surely need every advantage in war that was looming larger and larger before them. \"I am glad you like them- and I trust you to use them well\" Hephaestus said with a nod of thanks eve as the praise from his friend seemed to lighten the weight he had been carrying a little lighter. \n\n\"We will speak of Douglas, Citro, and the war at a later time, but for now... Let us enjoy the rest of the evening as we once did. With a good drink and talk of something other than the war.\" The war would still be there in the morning. One night would do little in the grand scheme of things. But it would be the reprieve that perhaps both of the gods needed the most." } ]

[ { "author": "kenneth.greygullhaven", "message": "Douglas is out for an early morning training session like usual" }, { "author": "Douglas Miller", "message": "The first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the training field. Douglas stood at the edge, his sword in hand, and took a deep breath. It was the start of a new day, and he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.\n\nDouglas was a young man, no different from any other in appearance. He had a strong build, with broad shoulders and a determined jawline. But unlike most young men, he was a demigod, the son of the god of war, Ares. And not only that, he was also Ares' champion, chosen to train and fight alongside his divine father.\n\nAs he made his way to the center of the field, Douglas couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and responsibility. Being a demigod was no easy feat, and he had to constantly train and hone his skills to be worthy of his title. He started with some basic stretches, his muscles still a bit stiff from the previous day's training. But he pushed through the discomfort, knowing that it was all part of his journey to become a great warrior.\n\nOnce warmed up, Douglas grabbed a wooden sword and began his usual routine. He moved gracefully, his body honed through years of training. He went through a series of strikes and blocks, the wooden sword making a satisfying thud as it met his sparring partner- one of the training dummies. Douglas had always been quick-thinking and good with weapons, a talent that had been honed through his godly bloodline and the years of training under the stern hand of his father, Ares. But he never took his skills for granted. He knew that they needed constant refinement, and that was exactly what he did every day.\n\nAfter an hour of sparring, Douglas paused to catch his breath and take a sip of water. As he stood there, he couldn't help but admire the beauty of the training field. It was a vast swath of green grass, with a few tall trees and rolling hills. In the distance, he could see the crystal blue waters of the nearby lake, and he instantly felt a sense of calm fell over him.\n\nBut he couldn't bask in the tranquility for too long. There was still much to be done. Douglas set his water bottle down and picked up a bow and arrow. Archery was one of his weaker skills, even with his champion ability taking effect, and he had been working hard to improve his skills with the weapon. He took aim at a target across the field and released the arrow. It flew through the air, hitting the bullseye with precision. Douglas couldn't help but smile at his progress. He had come a long way since the first time he picked up a bow.\n\nBut his training was far from over. Next, he moved on to hand-to-hand combat, fighting against a number of invisible foes at once. He was quick and agile, using his skills to plan attacks and . He fought with a fierce determination, his eyes never leaving his opponents' movements. As the sun began to rise higher in the sky, Douglas could feel the sweat dripping despite the cool morning breeze and his muscles starting to ache. But he pushed through it all, knowing that this was just another step towards becoming a true warrior.\n\nAfter a few more hours of intense training, Douglas finally stopped to take a break. He collapsed onto the grass, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath even as a soft laugh escaped him as the adrenaline and euphoria still washed over him as he lay there.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Hestia, Goddess of Hearth & Home", "message": "*The rserved Goddess of the Hearth would chance herself upon taking a route through the training fields, as she left her sacred Hearth. The morning was still early, exactly how she liked it, though her fatigue had certainly put a stint into her plan.*\n\n*The Goddess was on her way to the market, specifically the one in Plutus' domain, named after the great goddess of luck. A fan of her own culinary work, Hestia would be setting out to there, to gather an apocalypse-prepper's worth of supplies, in the hope that this ritualistic action wouldn't need to be repeated for a fair bit. To top that, the sheer volume she made also contributed to the vast stock she was looking for, and she was prepared to pay enough to make Plutus turn his head.*\n\n*The fair lady was dressed no differently to how she usually was. Clad in a simple tunic, that mirrored the colour of the gentle rolling clouds above, and a pale yellow cloak that matched the sun's hue, giving her the abstract appearance of embers in a marbled hearth. Her blonde hair, that appeared orange at its roots flowed without wind behind her, in a constant waving motion on her shoulders, giving the impression of a low-burning flame. Her pale skin made her look almost ghostly, as she strode through the waving grass, looking no different to a shade at first glance, as she passed through.*\n\n*There were more direct ways to the market. But Hestia wasn't the only one who was early to rise, and she wasn't the greatest at idle chatter at the best of times, so she often found scenic routes to get to her destination. Besides, the gentle grass of these fields was tranquil, and enjoyable.*\n\n*However, while she was accustomed to seeing some soldiers of her nephew's influence training, and gave them little more than a respectful wave, the sound of fervent training took her eye, as it fell upon a half-familiar face.*\n\n*Her Grandnephew, Douglas, was training like a man possessed, as he went through intense drils & routines to keep himself acti\n\nVe. She fondly remembered their first proper meeting, in the 'common-rooms' the various olympians & related persons got chummy in. He remembered helping him to cook, honing his skills aside from combat, and gave a small smile. Stopping in her stride, she would watch him curiously, the wind making her tunic & hair flow gently, as she observed Douglas' routine.*\n\n*She would giggle as he worked himself ragged, falling to the ground panting, as she observed from the horizon. Deciding her usual routine could wait, she would stride over, a basket slung under her arm. Digging through it, she would pull out a bottle of lemonade, holding it in her hand as she went to stand over Douglas. She would regard him with a friendly smile* \"Hello, little godling\" *She would chirp, holding out the bottle to him, offering him a refreshment*\n\n||" }, { "author": "Douglas Miller", "message": "Douglas lay sprawled out in the grass, panting heavily. The morning's training session had left him exhausted, but he felt a sense of accomplishment wash over him. He looked up at Hestia with a slight smirk, remembering how nice she had always been when they ran into each other in the common room and how she had been helping him learn to cook- among other things less combat-focused. \"Hestia!\" He called out to her, his voice a little hoarse from exertion. He sat up slowly, taking notice of her tunic as it danced slightly in the cool morning breeze, reminding him a bit of soft flames dancing in the wind- fitting really he thought with a small smile.\n\nThe air was crisp and cool against his skin, still damp from sweat. The scent of dew-soaked grass filled his nostrils as he took deep breaths to regain his composure. The sound of birds chirping and insects buzzing filled the otherwise silent field around them, creating a peaceful symphony. \"You're up early\" He said somewhat surprised as she approached him, her gentle steps causing the grass to bend and sway underfoot. She always made it look so effortless, like she was gliding across the ground. As Hestia approached, Douglas grabbed the lemonade gratefully, taking a long swig before speaking again. \"Thank you,\" He said between gulps. \"This is just what I needed.\" He wiped his brow with the back of his arm and looked around at the rolling hills surrounding them.\n\nIt had been a while since they had spoken properly, and he was glad to see her again. Even if it did just bring up some of those conflicting thoughts and emotions inside again as he thought back to the latest conversation he'd had with Ares. He wanted nothing more than to have someone, other than his father, to talk about things with... It had been what had fueled such a fervent and desperate training session, trying to wear himself out to the point his mind would slow down-even a little. \"So, what brings you out so early?\" He asked, trying to push those thoughts aside as he looked up at his aunt. \"Morning market run before the crowds?\" He asked with a faint smile as he gave a small nod to the spot beside him, in case she wanted to sit.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Hestia, Goddess of Hearth & Home", "message": "*She would continue to stand over Douglas as he lay sprawled out on the ground. Her form would cast down some shade for the man, as she held out the refreshment for him, as the gentle breeze rolled over them. It was a pleasant scene, to enjoy the lush billowing grass.*\n\n*The goddess wouldn't make a claim to be a fan of nature, in general. She appreciated the beauty they held, finely sculpted by her siblings, and the primordial forces, and was definitely fond of the tranquility they often held, especially with animals. But, her workaholic mindset made her abstain from such a joy more often than not, which was more than evident upon her pale, marble-like complexion. But still, she enjoyed the feelings of warmth the sun brought, in times like this.*\n\n*She would relent her grip as he took the beverage, crouching down beside her great-nephew, with a small smile. She remembered their time cooking together, and how he seemed to love it so. His passion was clearly evident in all he did, as even his fighting gave 110%. Yet, he seemed more confident in his martial prowess, or perhaps less certain for other tasks, despite his dedication suggesting otherwise. She half-hoped that he would divulge more unto her, so that she could shoulder his burdens, or at least aid any conflicts he had.*\n\n\"Yes, you got it exactly right, actually\" *She would giggle, setting down her basket, as if to show Douglas that she wasn't leaving in a hurry. She would take his offer, sitting among the blades of grass in the idyllic training fields, and looking over to Douglas.* \"The markets are quieter when it's early. Same case for the mortals. My work is needed less, so I have time to go out and shop.\" *She would think for a moment, wishing to distract him from whatever made him train so fervently* \"How comes your cooking? Had any more attempts since we last spoke?\" *She would ask softly, smoothing some hair behind her ear, giving her great-nephew a kind smile.*" }, { "author": "Douglas Miller", "message": "Douglas took another long sip of the cool, refreshing lemonade, savoring the sweet tang on his tongue. His mind was awhirl with thoughts and emotions, stirred up by the unexpected encounter with Hestia that morning. He hadn't anticipated her asking about the cooking lessons again, and a part of him wanted to dismiss it as unimportant. Part of him wanted to brush it off, pretend it hadn't mattered much to him. But it did- it had meant more than he had expected. \n\nThe moment he stepped into Hestia's warm and welcoming presence, all the tension and stress of combat training with his father Ares melted away. The scent of freshly baked bread and warm hearth filled the air, bringing a sense of tranquility to his troubled mind. As he looked up at Hestia's serene face, her gentle eyes seemed to hold all the understanding in the world. Here, in her sanctuary, he could speak freely without fear of judgment or reprimand from his Father. This was a place where secrets were safe and burdens were lifted.\n\nAs he spoke, Douglas' gaze shifted to the ground, the corners of his mouth turning downwards in a dejected expression. \"I... Haven't had the courage to try cooking anything major again since our last lesson,\" He confessed. \"But I did make an attempt at a few simple dishes afterwards, just to get some more practice in. I even borrowed a cookbook from the library.\" A wistful smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he recalled the memory. \"However, Father caught me with it and his disapproving expression was impossible to ignore.\" With a heavy sigh, Douglas sat up and turned to face his aunt fully, his eyes reflecting both frustration and longing.\n\n\"I knew Father wouldn't like it. He wants me to focus completely on combat training. Says cooking is a distraction from my duties, that it is not something I should be wasting my time with... That that is what I have servants and an eventual wife for.\" As he spoke, he sat on the edge of the training field, idly picking at blades of grass as he contemplated how to pursue his passion without angering his father. His tone was both determined and hesitant, torn between his desire to learn and his fear of disobeying his father's expectations. \n\n\"I still want to learn,\" He stated firmly, \"But I need to find a way to do it without my father finding out.\" A small spark lit up in his eyes, a hint of rebellion simmering beneath his composed exterior.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Hestia", "message": "*She fixed Douglas with a patient smile, as he enjoyed the lemonade she happened to bring, and she sat beside the demigod. Like how her own presence was one of tranquility, and calmness, the boy's own aura of annoyance, anger & strife filled the air like a noxious gas. One that may have been mistaken by others as authority, was noticeable to Hestia, as she knew its source.*\n\n*She noticed the air of hostility begin to melt away in her presence, as the facade of a cruel man melted away, into the man he truly was. A force to be reckoned with, for sure, but still one that had care in his heart, instead of being a mindless machine of combat, no better than the weapons he wielded.*\n\n*She would match his saddened face, with a softer smile, to show that she wasn't upset with the boy. She would shake her head dismissively* \"Don't worry your head, dear. I am sure that what you did make was amazing, nonetheless, even if it was simpler.\" *She would smile happily at him, as Douglas mentioned the cookbook. She would noticeably roll her eyes as the boy mentioned his father's disapproval, giving a cheeky grin to her great-nephew.*\n\n\"Honestly, dearie. I must say, that while your father is wise in the ways of combat, he is an absolute cyclops when it comes to anything else. No ability to see depth.\" *She would giggle at her own remark, before continuing* \"While servants can certainly help, and a wife would... Traditionally, do what he claims, I can't help but wonder what he does at war. I can imagine the serfs being stretched too thin to fight, feeding an army. Or does your father choose to eat the dirt in those times? That, I can't imagine\"\n\n*She would shake her head* \"Look, Ares may disapprove of many things, but he is not the God of those things. He is the God of War, and in a conflict, I would trust his judgement. But, I can't imagine the man cooking his own meals going well\" *She would give him a saddened look, as he continued to profess his desire to learn.*\n\n*Placing a hand besi\n\nDe him, as she stood up, she would raise one eyebrow* \"And what have I offered you, little godling? I know it is most of what I talk about, but my quarters are more than the hearth. I have a rather nice kitchen there as well. And while it is admittedly less fanciful and 'modern' compared to what you youngsters would prefer, it still serves its purpose. You are always welcome to stop by and practice. I think I have some cookbooks there as well, if you're worried about harbouring such 'contraband' from your blood.\" *She would turn to face him, fuelling the fires of such a rebellion in an oddly wholesome way*" }, { "author": "Stratios Douglas Miller", "message": "\"You've given me something few have before... Or until now\" Douglas said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. \"A chance to truly be myself, without the weight of expectations and standards placed upon me.\" He looked at Iris with gratitude in his eyes, grateful for her understanding and acceptance.\n\nFor so long, Douglas had been defined by his father's legacy as a fierce warrior and son of Ares. But here, in this peaceful moment surrounded by nature, he felt free to explore his own interests and passions. His love for cooking and reading suddenly seemed like valid pursuits, no longer pushed aside in favor of training and battle.\n\nAs he gazed out at the field scattered with weapons from his training his mind was calmer than it had been before Hestia's arrival. However, Douglas couldn't help but still feel conflicted. On one hand, he understood his father's desire for him to become a skilled warrior and honor the legacy that the God of War carried with him. But on the other hand, he loved the thrill of being his own person and craved the simplicity of just being... Without the pressure to live up to such high expectations.\n\n\"It's just... I wish I was free to choose my own path. Develop my own interests and skills, not just the ones deemed acceptable.\" He turned back to Hestia, a spark of determination in his eyes. \n\n\"But I understand your wisdom. As always, words of wisdom that are simple yet honest and true, as your reputation has always set\" Douglas said with a smile. \"But if you are sure... About the offer to continue working with you, to hone my... Other skills... I would love to take you up on that.\"\n\nA relieved smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, his tense posture relaxing even more. \"I can still pursue my passions, even if it must be done in secret. The hearth will be the perfect place for me to practice without judgement or expectation. With your expert guidance, maybe I can actually learn a thing or two. Father may see cooking as a frivolous pastime, but to me, it's so much more than that. I... I look forward to it. Thank you, Hestia.\"\n\nDouglas looked up at the flame goddess with a smile. And actual honest smile. One that was relaxed and warm. He knew things were going to hard. The war was still raging on and he knew that as thing dragged on, the pressure of being the son of Ares, the champion of the God of War, it would eventually come for him. He knew he needed to navigate his way through the chaos, but for now, in this moment, he was satisfied with simply letting things unfold as they were. He was content to just let things be and focus on the here and the now.\n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "Dedicated to fallen warriors and heroes, War Memorial square stands as a somber reminder of the sacrifices made in the name of battle. The square features monuments and plaques commemorating gods, demigods and humans who have distinguished themselves on the field of war. It serves as a place of reflection and remembrance for those touched by the harsh realities of conflict." }, { "author": "Hektor", "message": "*\"That'll be $21.30,\"* The cashier said as the former Prince approached the counter.\n\nCorner stores were one of the few conventionalities that Hektor had grown fond of during his adjustment to the new age. It was open 24/7, had everything you could need food-wise, and was close enough to his place to where he never had to venture far. In this case, he had come for his new favorite snack - Doritos Cool Ranch and an energy drink. The door chimed on his way out with the plastic bag hanging off his two fingers while he walked down the streets of Olympian. It was near midnight yet the city was still so awake, the twinkling lights from the countless skyscrapers acting as smaller stars while the sky above only had a few visible, completely overshadowed by the moon. \n\nThe sounds of cars passing by, people chattering, and music coming from the shops that were still open at this hour made it so there was no quiet. It always felt like there was nothing that could stall Olympian from continuing to stay this way, even after the disasters the war was bringing to the innocents around. Then, everything changed with an inhuman, ear-splitting shriek that filled the air, followed by a rush of black mass taking over the sky. The bright lights of the buildings were swallowed by darkness, making the sounds of screeching cars followed by a booming crash, people screaming, and the guttural sounds of something in the distance coming closer washed those unaware with fear. For the hero, it pulled him into flight-or-fight mode, though with him, it always ended up in a fight. \n_ _\n\nThe first grotesque creature emerged into his line of sight, running in a way that was uneven, fast, and unpredictable manner. Hektor's body moved before his brain could formulate a plan, his hand reaching for the man that it was coming after before pulling him behind him with a strength that almost threw him back. \"Run!\" He shouted as his hand balled into a fist and pulled it to his side before punching into the jaw of the beast with an uppercut, a sickening crack being heard as it was thrown back to skid across the sidewalk before its body hit the lightpost. What was this? He had never seen anything like this, let alone knew any stories that could give him an idea of what these things were. \n\nThe number of them grew as the night went on, Hektor was forced to pass by the bodies of those who had been fatally attacked by these beasts while trying to help those who were still alive and seeking shelter. It must have been the Fates that granted him the blessing of being in the Ares' sector at the time of the outbreak. He had come across a broken-into blacksmith's shop and found a sturdy enough blade to \"Borrow\" Before continuing on his task to help the citizens, but also for his own survival. The fight had eventually led him into the War Memorial Square, allowing an open enough space to draw the creatures into but allowing him to use his championed abilities without the worry of any mortals getting in the way. \n\nHe swung his blade, cutting through what he could only assume was their version of flesh and bone. Each one around him dropped one by one, but it seemed endless with how they continued to just come. If it weren't for the fact he was both a demigod and had the aid of Zelus behind him, there was no doubt that he would have fallen victim to this apocalyptic-like situation like many others he saw on the street. \n_ _\n\nWhoever had done this, was it a part of the war? An attack from one side? But why to this degree? Even while on the offense, these thoughts bounced in his mind. By the time he had taken out the last one, he spun the blade in his hand as he carefully scoured the area. His appearance had become haggard; his brown curls were matted against his forehead, his shirt had been torn at the side with a cut from one of the creatures, and sweat and grime covering him in patches. His chest moved with each labored breath, but he stayed quiet while his blue irises flickered around the area. It was in the distance that he spotted another man fighting off the beasts himself, valiantly so and with a fervor that showed Hektor that the man was a fighter - no - *A warrior*. Those with a trained eye, or even without, could see how impressive it was. He was no normal human, that much was clear.\n\nThe Trojan was ready to trek forward and assist him until he spotted one of the more humanoid-looking beings rushing him at a terrifying speed. He was able to block it using his blade and bringing his arm behind it to keep steady, his feet skidding on the ground from the force alone. Its teeth snapped at him whilst his own gritted. His foot came to quickly swipe under the creature's feet, bringing it to the ground before his blade came down point-forward into its face, pushing it down with a grunt, its body that had been struggling before coming to a still with its demise. He dropped down to one knee as he panted before he felt an immense force come from the direction of the warrior he had spotted a few moments prior." }, { "author": "Alexios || Conner Donnelly", "message": "Exahustion sank into Alexios's bones as the battle raged on. Hours passed as he fought the horde through the city, saving those that he could and avenging those who fell. Allies came and went, getting lost in the darkness when they were separated by packs of the undead. The only man that was able to stand his ground as good as Alexios was the one who had ridden in on his horse - something that felt like it had been hours before. He must have been a demigod because he seemed just as sturdy and powerful, able to withstand the attack better than everyone else. \n\nThe problem was that they didn't seem to be getting very far with the two of them and whatever allies they picked up along the way. They needed something bigger - something more powerful to take out larger portions of the undead mob, and Alexios knew exactly how to achieve it; he just needed to get them away from the city. \n\nEvery moment spent fighting the zombies was spent backing up toward the outskirts of the city, aiming for the War Memorial where he was hoping no innocent bystanders were trying to take refuge. \n\nBy the time he reached the stepping stones of the first monument, he was looking worse for wear. Clothes ripped and torn where the undead managed to claw his skin, movements becoming tired and sluggish. Even with superhuman strength and stamina, the non-stop fighting was taking its toll. Too much longer and Alexios wouldn't be able to use his power like he wanted.\n\nThe first step of his plan had worked; he managed to act the part of bait and get the majority of the herd to follow him. There were still a few human fighters in the area, but he had some distance on them, so they would be safe from his attack so long as they stayed put. He circled around the statue he fought beside, occasionally clanging his sword against the sculpture to create loud noises and attract more of the undead. He wanted to pull as many in as possible before going for such a large attack. \n\nEventually, the horde was packed tight around him, all reaching for him, clawing, scratching, biting. That's when he finally made his move. \n\nHe clenched his fists around the sword handle, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. The zombies closed in around him and he felt their gangly fingers grip and tug. Gritting his teeth, Alexios sent a burst of invisible energy out in all directions. The force sent the zombies stumbling back, and just as they regained their footing and began ambling toward him again, the signs of his attack began to show. Their bodies, already rotten, were beginning to decay at an alarming rate. Pieces crumbled off of their bodies, whatever skin that was left became more sunken in. Eventually, many of them dropped without being able to support their own weight anymore.\n\nThe decay spread throughout the entire horde and they fell one by one until the last one was nothing but dust crumbling. Only one of the zombies got a last good strike in, his clawed fingers digging into Alexio's shoulder before rotting too much to do any further damage. Alexios shouted in pain before yanking back and stumbling into the statue of Perseus he had been fighting around. His breaths came out in deep gulps, his body feeling extremely heavy as it took on mortality with a struggle. It wouldn't last long, as once the blight wore off, so would his mortality, but that didn't make it any less of a problem. He was vulnerable.\n\nHe let himself sink into it, remaining there as he caught his breath and held his hand across the fresh wound." }, { "author": "Hektor", "message": "Goosebumps formed and ran up his arms as if his body was warning him that something was coming but it didn't know what. It wasn't until he felt the invisible force wash over with a chill that made a shudder run down his spine from the darkness of the blight alone that his attention came to the fighter, watching the group of zombie-like creatures that had surrounded him start to slowly decay and fall apart. One by one from the epicenter out, they slowly fell, the guttural sounds lessening as they were destroyed. The Trojan's eyes widened, his hands having unconsciously gripped the hilt of his blade at the sight until his knuckles were white. \n\nIt was both impressive and terrifying seeing this invisible force at work, but it had given him the answer to the question he had earlier. *A demigod*, just like Hektor. He felt a wave of nausea wash over him, enough to make him bend over and heave, no doubt from the effect of his ability. One hand kept himself steady on the ground while he bit back the vomit that was rising, forcing himself to swallow before slowly rising to his feet. The darkness above was still prevalent and there was no doubt that there were more of these beasts that would find their way to the square, continuing to create mayhem. \n_ _\n\nHe could see the signs of stress in the stranger's form and his feet took him to where he was, the sound of crunching under his boot being heard as he stepped over the bones and decaying forms of the undead. As he got closer, he noticed he was just as worn out, if not even more than he was from the fight. His eyes spotted the injury on his shoulder that was bleeding. As he came closer, he raised his left hand which was free in a manner that said that he wasn't a danger. \"You fought well, if not for you, they would have found their way to harming more that haven't taken shelter.\" His tone showed his respect for his ability. It was clear most of the fight was out of the man, and to be frank, Hektor was reaching a point where even he needed to rest. It was hard to imagine that he had spent hours upon hours on the battlefield yet all that endurance was something that he didn't find himself having in his second life. \n\nThe man's gaze moved away from him briefly to look around to see if there was anywhere they could hide out for just a few minutes. Right now, they were out in the moment in the middle of the square. All it took was one zombie spotting them for another horde to come. \"We need to leave, we can't stay out here in the open. More will find their way their way here and with that shoulder,\" He glanced at the injury, his lips pressing into a thin line. It was nothing fatal, but there was no way he would continue to fight properly if it continued to bleed in the way it was doing now. If he allowed him to come closer, he'd bend his knees some so he could get him off from leaning against the statue. He continued, \"Let me help you, you're in no position to be left on your own.\"\n_ _\n\nHe spotted near the back entrance the columned building that was hidden well enough to give them coverage from view before looking back at Alexios. There were still distant screams in the distance, enough to make him internally grimace. There was still so much fighting left and who knew how long this would last. It could be days, depending on if the gods were to intervene. \"What is your name?\"" }, { "author": "Alexios || Conner Donnelly", "message": "For the moment, he was in the clear. Alexios's breaths were heavy as he looked around at the damage he caused. Piles of undead bodies lie crumbled in pieces, but as far as he could see, no one *Alive* Had been injured. In fact, hardly anyone alive was in the area except for one other man who was hunched over and heaving. Alexios winced at the sound, realizing he must have been caught in the crossfire of his blight, though had he been a normal human, he would have been on his hands and knees puking his guts out due to the level of power Alexios had fired off. \n\nTrying to stand on his own, Alexios quickly realized how much he had over-extended himself when black dots danced around his vision. He slid right back down before unconsciousness could take him, blinking a few times to try and clear his vision. He must have taken longer to compose himself than he thought becuase he blinked and suddenly the stranger was in front of him. \n\nAlexios flinched, hand reaching for his sword which he had discarded at his side. He gripped the handle, but realized soon after that the stranger wasn't one of the undead and he was being complimentary. His grip loosened, though he was sure he wouldn't have been able to lift his sword in his current state, anyway. \n\n\"You . . . You weren't so bad yourself,\" Alexios said, deeply breathing the words in and out.\n\nHe didn't recognize the man as any god. While Alexios had not met all of them, he had spent time studying their faces and learning who was who - especially now that he was in a war against them. It was a relief to find out he was fighting alongside someone more human. \n\nAs the stranger looked around the area, Alexios did the same - searching for dangers lurking behind crypts or sneaking up from the cobblestone road leading into the memorial. He couldn't see much past the immediate area with the darkness the way it was, but it was reassuring that he didn't hear the haunting sounds of the undead scraping their feet along the ground or hissing out unneeded breaths. \n\nAlexios didn't have the energy to protest the help he was offered. He let it happen, the stranger helping him to his feet and holding onto him as they moved. He found himself leaning heavier into the man than he meant to, though he fought the urge to go completely limp. He forced strength into his limbs, walking alongside the stranger with quick, but careful steps. His body screamed at him, but he met the pain with minor grunts and no complaints. \n\n\"Thank you,\" He said as they made their way to a small building not too far from their position. \"Conner. And yours?\"" }, { "author": "Hektor", "message": "Seeing him guarded was expected but once he saw the man recognize that he wasn't another monster and relax some, he allowed his guard to be let down some too. The last thing he needed was a mortal taking him out after spending all day fighting these things. Then again, he looked so worn down that fighting seemed near impossible but what did he know? The possibilities of what a demigod could do were endless and unpredictable, just as the move he witnessed. He could still feel his stomach turning from the effect. The returned compliment gained a half-smile from the hero, \"It is not as if we had any choice other than good, or else we would end up food for their stomachs.\" His voice was gruff, weary from the exhaustion despite the adrenaline rush that was still taking its course. \n\nA soft grunt left Hektor's lips as he helped him up to his feet, letting out a muttered, \"Attaboy,\" Before allowing him to put his weight on him. He took care of the injured shoulder but knew they had to move swiftly to make sure they weren't sighted by any zombie that may have been missed or hidden away from their sight. The smell of the creatures was awful, the rotting factor of Connor's ability making the Trojan's nose wrinkle in protest as they moved over the bodies and towards the small building where they could find safety. \n_ _\n\nBlue eyes looked to the demigod at his question, \"Hektor.\" He returned. \"No need to thank me. Any good person would have done the same. Trying times are when we've gotta stick together the most, right?\" He looked ahead, a pant pushing through his lips as they went up the steps that led to the building before his hand moved to lean his blade against the wall to open the door, but paused for a moment, looking at Connor. \"If anything comes out, swing at it with whatever you've got left in you.\" There was no guarantee it was empty and that was a risk he was willing to take. Gripping the knob, he twisted it and creaked open the door to hear anything before swinging it open, allowing the door to hit the wall. \n\nA relieved sigh left through his nose as it was revealed to be empty. Good, this would be a safe enough spot until they were rested enough to move again, or at least he saw Connor well enough to move. He wasn't going to abandon the guy, not when he was in this state. Easing him inside, they moved through the dark before his leg hit a chair, almost making him stumble with a hushed, \"Fuck.\" Before he managed to steady himself. \"Here, sit down.\" He told him, aiding him into the chair. He would move to grab his blade from the outside and come to shut the door, leaving them within the safety of the small confined space. \n_ _\n\nHe patted the wall, looking for a switch before feeling his fingers brush by one and flicking it upwards. The light above flickered on and off before it gave a dim light that was enough to illuminate the room. He set the blade down on the small table that was near the chair he sat Connor on. \"Have you been fighting out there this whole time?\" He asked as he took in his appearance fully. He looked like shit, which was to be expected considering. He figured he probably looked in a similar state himself. But that shoulder of his is what caught his attention. \n\nHe started to open up the metal lockers that were in the room, no doubt this was more of a security checkpoint that was abandoned due to the chaos. There were personal items that he rummaged through until he could find anything. He would set what he found down on the table: Two water bottles, scotch tape, a rag that smelled clean enough to be used, a small bottle of JD, and a shirt that was folded up in one of the backpacks. He dragged the other chair so he was seated facing the injured shoulder. \"Take off your shirt.\" He realized that sounded more demanding than he meant it to be before adding on, \"Let me take care of that shoulder while you tell me how you learned to fight like that.\" From his talks with Nemesis and Zelus, he knew that the only way this man would have been able to gain something as inhumane as that is if he were championed - just as he was." }, { "author": "Alexios || Conner Donnelly", "message": "Alexios wasn't comfortable with receiving help - something that had been ingrained in him because of his father. Matthew Donnelly was an independent man who lost his parents at a young age and had to take care of himself and his younger siblings just as he reached the age of adulthood. He was a perfect example of what Alexios strived to be - responsible, respectable, and trustworthy. People looked to him for answers, for help, for leadership, but not the other way around. But just because one wasn't used to being helped didn't mean he never received it. \n\nAs Hektor helped him up and took on most of his weight, Alexios felt that twinge of helplessness that he couldn't stand. He had to bite his tongue and force his own body into submission to allow himself to be half-carried to safety. \n\n\"Unfortunately, it seems like the only time people stick together,\" He said, though his comment was lost in the darkness as they made it to the entrance of the building. He nodded to Hektor at the direction he was given, eyes locking onto the door as he readied himself for anything that might have come out when it opened. He took on a bit more of his own weight again, bracing himself for an attack, but when the door swung open and nothing came out, he relaxed again. \n\nThey rummaged around in the dark for a moment, announcing their presence with a couple of bumps and possibly new bruises, before Hektor found them a good spot to rest. Alexios sank down into a seat and leaned his back against the wall with a sigh, closing his eyes to rest for a moment as Hektor closed the door. He only opened them again when the lights came on, illuminating the inside of the building to reveal exactly where they were.\n\n\"Hard to tell how long,\" He said as he ran his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face. \"Ever since they showed up at Ares Heights . . . So at least a few hours.\" He didn't realize that a \"Few\" Hours was closer to ten. \"You?\" \n\nHe watched Hektor search through several lockers in the security room, and suddenly realized why he and his new acquaintance might have been getting along so well. Everything Hektor did was something that Alexios would have done were their roles reversed. Everything down to rummaging through unknown areas to find useful tools to help. \n\nThe next order from Hektor continued to put Alexios on edge, but only because he wasn't used to getting ordered around. Sighing, he slowly peeled off his already-torn shirt, mindful of the shoulder injury that was revealed to be as gross as it was painful. Teeth marks were indented into his flesh, blood still gushing from the fresh wound. He hissed when he accidentally grazed it, but bit back any other sounds as he tossed his shirt aside. \n\n\"Mn . . . Personal trainer, mostly,\" He said - a half-truth, since he didn't care to lie unless he really had to. \"Felt kind of necessary with the war going on.\" His body tensed up when Hektor pressed on a particularly sensitive spot on the wound, but he didn't complain too much. \"I'm also a cop but they don't really train you to fight with swords there.\" Though the gun training came in handy with the zombies more so than the sword until he ran out of bullets. \"What about you?\" He paused, remembering how close Hektor had been when Alexios went nuclear with his power. \"How are you feeling? Didn't mean for you to get caught in the crossfire during that final attack.\"" }, { "author": "Hektor", "message": "The Trojan understood the lack of comfort when it comes to accepting assistance. While Conner's was due to his experiences with his father, Hektor was shaped by both the duty as the crowned Prince and war general in his time in the war. However, he learned to rely on his men around him. While the two men were complete strangers to one another, Hektor couldn't ignore him. There was a sense of camaraderie that came with fighting off the common enemy and in this case, it happened to be the creatures that came from the dark. \n\nIn the safety of the four walls, they were able to allow their guards to come down enough but not enough to get rid of the adrenaline that ran through his veins. Hektor was the one to ask the question, but when it was returned back to him, he honestly did not know how long he had been out there. He was going through the motions, his body on autopilot as he fought and helped. His muscles were screaming at him to rest, so he knew it had been more than just a couple of hours. \"Same boat.\" He responded. \"I came from Demeter's district. Time is hard to tell when there's no light.\" That was a few districts over but his movements led him to Ares Heights. \n\nAs he sat down, he waited for Alexios to take off his shirt and he was able to see the full extent of his wound. He didn't know what those things were but surely it wouldn't be akin to those zombie movies where there was some infection outbreak, right? He had watched too many episodes of The Walking Dead, it was filling his mind with ridiculous scenarios that he quickly shrugged off as unreasonable. He pulled the chair closer before cracking open one of the bottles of water to pour at the wound, using the rag to dab at it as gently as he could. He knew well enough from his time of war that the best remedy to fixing a serious wound was conversation, a distraction from the pain that was inevitable from tending to a wound. \n_ _\n\nPersonal trainer made him glance at him, not out of doubt but more questioning of how a personal trainer became that skilled. It was when he mentioned being a cop that it made more sense. \"Bullets run out, a sword can last for longer. It's a shame that the skill has been lost with time.\" He felt him tense under the touch as he cleaned off the wound, the blood continuing to seep but he could see the wound in its entirety now. It was bad, but it could heal with the proper aid. What he was doing was just a temporary fix and even then, who knew when he could get the proper help? \n\nHe opened up the small JD bottle, \"This'll sting.\" He warned before pouring it onto the wound. There was no antiseptic but this was the next best thing while he kept the towel pressed below the wound to catch some of the excess. When he asked the question of how he felt, the truth was that he felt like absolute shit. The blight he was caught in had still made him reel with nausea, his Adam's apple bobbing now and then as he forced whatever that wanted to come up down and his usually fair complexion pale. It could have been from injuries he sustained and the exhaustion, but it was most definitely also an effect of his powers. \n\n\"I was... In the military.\" He didn't know how to tell a stranger that he was much older than he looked and from a completely different period. \"Front lines of war. Whatever I picked up there seems to help me a little now.\" He shot him a glance at his concern or maybe it was just curiosity, \"I feel a lot better than you probably do right now.\" He answered with the slightest upturn of his lip that disappeared as he went back to concentrating on the aid. \"I'll be fine. I'm more used to this than you think.\" \n_ _\n\nIn a sick, twisted way his body felt more at home in this setting than he did in the mundanity of day-to-day life. His mind was numbed when it came to fighting, he didn't have to think about Achilles or what he lost the day he died. It was just methodical movements of killing, something his body remembered all too well. His brows furrowed, \"You're a demigod, aren't you? Do you know why this is happening?\" It was direct and an assumption, but a safe one." }, { "author": "Alexios || Conner Donnelly", "message": "Blue eyes darted from the window to Hektor and then back to the window, searching for a threat that was no longer there. Heel tapping quickly against the floor, Conner couldn't help but feel a sense of unease in the calmness of the moment. His last attack was effective against the zombies, but it was only for the War Memorial area. He was sure there were plenty more to fight; he just needed to go search for them. Sitting still, even for such a short time, was making him stir-crazy when he knew there were people out there who needed help. He didn't resist, though, knowing that he was in no condition to jump right back into battle just yet. \n\n\"Well. It hasn't been lost completely,\" Conner said, studying Hektor as he worked. Something about him was familiar, but he was struggling to figure out what it was. He spent so much time memorizing the likenesses of all of the gods, but he wasn't perfect, and not all of them looked like they used to. If Hektor was one of them, he wasn't one that Conner recognized easily. \"Looks like you know how to use it well enough.\" \n\nHe braced himself the moment Hektor warned him about the sting. He eyed the small bottle before deciding he needed something to bite onto, so he grabbed the remains of his shirt and bit down on the cloth. Just in time, too, because the alcohol was poured over the wound. He bit down and hissed, one hand shooting out to press against the wall as he resisted the urge to cry out. A few grunts escaped, but he was successfully distracted by the continuing conversation.\n\nBeing in the military explained a lot, but something about Hektor's words told him it wasn't the full story. They both had their secrets, and they didn't know each other well enough to need to divulge everything.\n\n\"Yeah, sorry about that,\" He said. Hektor was right to think he felt better than Conner did, as nausea was all he had to worry about. Conner was stuck with a lack of his usual godly healing and durability for a short period of time. He didn't comment on that part, though, just letting Hektor's comment linger in the air. \n\nHe didn't confirm nor deny that he was a demigod - kind of hard when it was very obvious - but he didn't leave Hektor hanging completely. \"It looks like Hades just joined the war,\" He said. \"Not sure why, but something must have pissed him off enough to raise the dead.\"" }, { "author": "Hektor", "message": "The smallest huff of laughter pushed from his lips, though whether it was from amusement or simply from the irony of having to still use an old skill like swordsmanship was unknown. \"You can call it a hobby. I never thought the first one I'd get would be having to break into a blacksmith's shop. I'm surprised it lasted this long honestly.\" The blade's edge was already starting to grow dull from its hours of use but then again, no one made swords to be used anymore and it was more likely a decorative piece. \n\nGrabbing the shirt, he tore it apart with ease, though carefully so it made a long enough cloth to wrap his shoulder with. \"Don't apologize. You did what was the best course of action, a bystander being affected is the least of anyone's worries in that situation.\" He was lucky he got away with feeling sick, it could have been much worse considering how the beings crumbled and decayed within the proximity of his blight. Just thinking about how he could have ended up within range practically made a chill run down his spine. It was an awful way to die and awful demises is something he happened to be familiar with. \n\nBringing one arm to gently hold his elbow, he slowly lifted up his arm. He knew it was going to be painful but he needed it at an angle so he could properly wrap his shoulder. \"Hold it there, even if it hurts like a bitch.\" He gruffed as he brought the cloth to carefully wrap his shoulder, making it tight like a tourniquet but still allowing him some motion if another emergency were to occur. And considering how no one knew how long this darkness was going to last, it wasn't an if but *When*. \n_ _\n\nHis brows furrowed together at the mention of Hades. He knew the King of the Underworld all too well, he had spent countless of centuries within his domain in Elysium. \"I thought he wasn't involved in this mess.\" He muttered. A tired sigh left him as he tied off the wound, the blood already staining the cloth red. Despite Hektor being sided with Poseidon, his dislike for war remained. He hated the needless bloodshed of innocents, those losing their loved ones in horrible ways, and the uncertainty of surviving to the next. That's exactly what war brought - the constant need to survive and that was no way to live. \n\n\"I'm sure the Gods are doing their best to stop this. I doubt this is a part of anyone's plan.\" He found himself leaning back in his chair, using the excess of the shirt to wipe away the blood that stained his hands from cleaning his wound. \"You know about the war. You must be involved.\" The mortals were unaware, simply assuming that the world was going to shit. Catastrophic natural disasters seemed unexplainable to all but those who were involved in some way. \"Or, you are trying to keep yourself out of it, which would be the smartest thing anyone could do in this situation.\"" }, { "author": "Alexios || Conner Donnelly", "message": "Physical pain was temporary, but emotional pain could last forever. That was one of the many lessons Conner learned when he became championed by Persephone. Joining the war and fighting back against the gods didn't heal what had been done to him or to Jessie or to the countless thousands of innocent people whose lives were destroyed in one way or another. The losses he suffered in his life were still felt years later, and he wondered if it was something he could ever recover from. Physical pain, however, was different. Injuries he sustained healed quickly. The pain he took on from healing others' wounds didn't last forever. He could handle the bite to his shoulder. He wasn't sure if he could handle the weight of the world. \n\n\"Still. Had I known you were that close, I would have tried to lead them further away. We don't need anymore casualties today.\" He clenched his fists as his arm was lifted up, dutifully holding it in place as Hektor wrapped it tightly. He closed his eyes and ground his teeth together in pain, but he didn't cry out. It was temporary. His quick healing would return within a few days and the pain would be a distant memory. \n\n\"He wasn't,\" Conner added, staring out the window to the security room. Was that movement in the distance? \"But that doesn't mean he'll stay out of it forever.\" He slowly lowered his arm, taking a deep breath as the pain settled into a dull throbbing. \"The gods can't always help themselves, can they?\" \n\nOnce he was wrapped up, he stood from his seat to test the rest of his movement. His body was stiff, but he was rested just enough to get moving again. Getting back to the Champions' headquarters was going to be a challenge on foot, but he was sure he could make it with what little energy he had left in him.\n\n\"You put a lot of faith in the gods,\" Conner said as he slipped what was left of his shirt on over his bare chest. \"But look around. What gods do you see out here helping *Us?*\" It was clear he didn't mean to say him and Hektor specifically, but humanity as a whole. The undead had risen to attack the living, and there wasn't a peep from Olympus or the Sea. \"I'm involved because I have no other choice. If you haven't picked a side yet, you should. I hope you choose the right one.\" \n\nThe movement he saw earlier finally revealed itself to be another wave of the undead. Some wandered aimlessly, others stumbled straight to the building - attracted by the light. Conner picked up his sword again and moved toward the door. \n\n\"We need to get out of here before they surround it and trap us in. You ready?\"" }, { "author": "Hektor", "message": "\"It's not worth sweating over a possible situation when it wasn't the outcome. I'm still here, aren't I?\" Despite the gruffness in his tone, he meant it to have Alexios not worry over it. \"No harm,\" He tightened the makeshift bandage before looking at his work, satisfied enough, \"No foul.\" He finished. \n\nThe God's war was a complicated one. He only knew what he was told and Nemesis was a part of the Underworld herself. How did she feel about this? \"The Gods do what they want, just as they always have.\" He knew the God's intervention in war all too well, considering that they were one of the biggest catalysts within the Trojan War. Their interference, Paris' god-awful decision, and the ultimate end to his nation and his life, he felt a bitter taste on his tongue at the thought of his former life. \n\nHe got himself up from the chair, though found himself pausing at Alexios' words. He could see how he believed so. In his time, they served the Gods and prayed to them for success, wealth, health, for the safety of their family and their nations. It came naturally to him to put his faith in them, but nowadays, he knew better. \n_ _\n\n\"I put faith in their nature. Hades' involvement doesn't serve any of the Gods that are not with him. They're self-serving and this,\" He looked to the window, the cloak of darkness still eminent, \"...This doesn't serve them.\" The concept of *Us* Was an interesting one. He knew what he meant: What are the Gods doing to protect us mortals? Hektor had allowed his own goals to overshadow some of his mortals. He justified the cost of life so far to be the casualty of war. He knew how ugly it was first-hand, seeing the innocents slaughtered despite doing his best to avoid it. Even the most righteous man couldn't avoid such a thing. \"There's always a choice, Conner. You've made yours, and so have I.\" \n\nWhat was the right choice? Was anything right when it came to a God's war? Or did it all come down to choosing the lesser evil? \n\nHe turned his back to him to grab his blade. They couldn't stay in here forever and the momentary rest had done more for him than he would have expected. He looked to Conner, nodding as he saw his hand on the door. \"Let's go.\" \n_ _\n\nLittle did they know that the light they had on in the small security room had attracted the creatures of the night, wanting to extinguish any light that they caught in their path. Beyond the door was something they both hadn't expected. After all, who would have thought that a swarm of them would have gathered as quickly as they did? As soon as the door opened, the horrors would have been unleashed on the two unsuspecting heroes." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "Perched on a cliff at the edge of Ares' Heights, Warrior's Overlook offers a breathtaking panoramic view of the Olympian landscape. This vantage point, adorned with statues commemorating legendary warriors, serves as a place of reflection and meditation for those seeking the guidance and favor of Ares before entering conflicts." }, { "author": "HYACINTHUS ", "message": "As the clouds parted and revealed a canvas of pink and orange, the rays of the Sun illuminated the world beneath it, licking the earth with warmth and splendour. Hyacinthus had been wandering the mountainside for hours, his breath syncing with the rhythm of his movements, a silent mantra guiding upwards until he reached the peak. \n\nOnce there, the young god made his way to a secluded clearing nestled by ancient trees and unfurled his mat on the ground. The soft fabric whispered quietly against the earth as he climbed on it, and with the grace and poise of a dancer, Hyacinthus began to flow through his yoga routine. Each movement was a tribute to centuries of practise and discipline, embodying the spirit of calmness within oneself as he gently stretched, bent, and contorted in the golden rays of light.\n\nAs he settled into a seated position, the cool mountain air caressed his skin, carrying with it the scent of pine and wildflowers. With closed eyes, Hyacinthus let his mind drift, allowing the stillness of the air at such altitude to envelop him as he contemplated all that was, and all that had ever been. There, he pondered his existence; worshipped by mortals as a deity of rebirth and renewal, he had lived for centuries in search of a purpose beyond immortal life, but now found himself adrift in a world dominated by technology and progress. \n\nHe felt a stirring within his soul as he became serene and regulated his breath, straightening his back and assuming a posture that was as still as water. The world had changed, but the essence of who Hyacinthus was, for better or for worse, remained. \n\nHis mind continued to wander for good five minutes, until eventually, his meditation came to an end, rounding off his morning routine of yoga and mindfulness in a newfound state of peace. Once he was finished, he drew in a large breath and exhaled slowly, casting his violet eyes out across the open vista before him, allowing the cool breeze to slither against his bare skin. Deep in thought, he then rotated around on the mat so that his back faced the edge, ready to climb to his feet and pack up his things.\n\nUntil he caught the eye of a man by his right, who was deep in contemplation of his own. Knowing that gods and demigods all over frequented the mountainside to meditate, Hyacinthus smiled kindly as he rolled up his mat and tied the elastic around it. Unbeknown as to who it was, he simply crossed his bare arms and leant against the mat which stood upright in the dirt, held together tightly while Hyacinthus quietly watched. \n\nHis posture was good and his breathing slow; it was clearly not the first time this man had taken to the practice whatsoever. After a few minutes, he slowly came to, and when he opened both his eyes, the radiant god gave him a friendly wave. \n\n**\"I wish I knew how to stay as still as that,\"** He said smoothly. **\"Have you been meditating for long?\"**" }, { "author": "Douglas Miller", "message": "Douglas sat cross-legged at the peak of the overlook, his eyes closed as he took slow, steady breaths. The crisp morning air was still, save for the occasional bird song floating on the breeze. He had risen early, before the sun peeked over the horizon, to make the solitary trek up the mountainside. This was his occasional sanctuary, the place he came to center his mind and spirit before undertaking any great endeavor. Usually, his mind was spinning with strategy, plans, conflict, battles and training. But now and then even he knew he needed the calm and stillness to make sense of it all.\n\nAs the sunlight began to creep across the mountaintop, Douglas focused on his breath, on the way the air moved in and out of his body. With each inhale, he felt energy and life flow into him. With each exhale, he released any negativity or doubt. In his mind's eye, Douglas saw the sprawling city below, just beginning to wake. He imagined the people, so small from this vantage point, starting their day - parents rousing children for school, shopkeepers preparing their stores, athletes heading out for morning training. Mortals all, full of hopes and fears, loves and losses.\n\nDouglas sat on his mat, under the shade of an ancient tree, a still point on the mountain. His role was great as Ares' son, his powers vast as Ares' champion, yet here he was able, for once, to just be himself. Douglas. His mind was quiet until there was only the present moment. This day would bring the start of a great test, Douglas knew. His father Ares, ever hungry for war and conquest, had given him a task, one Douglas was not thrilled about. \n\nAnd for the first time he could recall, Douglas was actually having some doubts about his father's methods and motives. Something in and of itself Douglas was having trouble wrapping his mind around. But he was bound to serve his father, he owed him everything, and Ares deserved his respect and his obedience- and that meant not questioning what tasks he was given...\n\nWhen Douglas opened his eyes finally, blinking a little in the shifted light of the sun as it was higher in the sky than when he had begun, he gave a small sigh. Looking around as he slowly came back to present, he caught the eyes of the figure standing a little ways away. Douglas would give a small nod and save as the stranger acknowledged him. \"I wish I knew how to stay as still as that. Have you been meditating for long?\" \n\nDouglas couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips as he replied. \"You mean today or in general? But no, I don't do this often... At least not as often as I probably should. Usually busy training down there\" Douglas said with a nod down into the valley where the majority of Ares' foot soldiers did their training. \"What about you?\" He asked turning his attention back to the stranger.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Hyacinthus", "message": "It was there the young found his sanctuary on the mountainside, where the whispers of the wind danced through tall pines and the distant call of birds echoed through the valley below. Breathing in the crisp air at high altitude, as his companion probably knew, was a wonderful feeling and helped clear his mind of the worries of daily life; gone were the stresses of his long-lived existence, replaced with the warmth of clarity and calm - a most welcome change from an overactive conscience.\n\nHe felt the earth beneath his feet as he stood beside Doug's mat, his caramel curls catching the sunlight in its golden strands. The young man before him did not carry the same godly aura as he or those like him did, but *Did* Embody a sense of strength and fortitude that belied his heritage. Hyacinthus, of course, was not aware of the finer details of that assumption, but it was seldom any mere mortal ventured up that high without tremendous difficulty.\n\n**\"I see,\"** The young god said gently as he gave Doug a friendly smile. **\"Though you do it make it look so easy.\"** A soft smile played on Hyacinthus' lips as he made note of the stranger's discipline, impressed by his impeccable poise and form. Meditation had always been something the spritely deity always used as a way to connect with his inner, true self, his mind intertwined with the very essence and spirit of nature all around him - his thoughts connected to the roots of ancient trees, stitched into the very fabric of shared consciousness itself.\n\n**\"I always thought that in silence, it's easier to find our true selves,\"** Hyacinthus observed. **\"And it's good to get away from the hustle and bustle of everything. Some people may find it a little odd that I choose to come here of all places to do that,\"** He chuckled. **\"But I suppose I'm used to finding beauty in a culture of militarism.\"** \n\nThere was power in stillness, even against the backdrop of the men that trained rigorously in the valley below. Hyacinthus knew this and reminisced back to his early days as a young prince in Amyclae, where the Spartan soldiers embraced the possibility of death with a fierce passion, welcoming the danger like some sort of dear friend. \n\n**\"You're... You're avoiding your training?\"** He asked, his violet eyes suddenly vivacious with piqued interest. If he was putting it together correctly, there were remarkable similarities between them. Hyacinthus, of course, had always sought solace by merging with the the rhythm of the universe, putting him at odds with the pressing need to be subordinate to Sparta's more militaristic ambition. That, however, was a development he intended to keep quiet for the time being. \n\n**\"Here is where I escape the turmoil of eternal life. The mountains stand firm against all of the chaos that's waged against them,\"** He said, a little introspectively as his gaze turned to the horizon. **\"I just want to be as resilient as they are.\"**" }, { "author": "Douglas Miller", "message": "Douglas shifted his weight, the soft blades of grass brushing against his skin as he gazed out at the serene landscape before them. The sprawling meadow was a peaceful oasis amidst the chaotic world that Douglas often found himself in. He couldn't help but reflect on Hyacinthus' words and his own internal struggles. As he exhaled, his breath mingled with the gentle whispers of the wind through the rustling leaves and delicate flowers scattered throughout the grassy expanse that surrounded them.\n\n\"You know, it's funny,\" He began, his tone tinged with a hint of bitterness. \"My father, Ares... The embodiment of war and conflict, the one expecting his son and champion to do nothing but thrive off of the thrill of battle. And here I am, his son, expected to follow in his footsteps.\" He let out a dry chuckle, but there was no amusement behind it, only a deep-seated turmoil that seemed to reverberate through the atmosphere around them.\n\nDouglas saw the look on the other's face, Hyacinthus' expression one of genuine interest and empathy, encouraging to continue. And so he did. \"I've always felt... Different,\" Douglas continued, his voice filled with a mix of longing and confusion. \"While my father thrives in the chaos and destruction of war, finding joy in the clash of swords and the cries of warriors, I am not sure if that is what is right for me... If that is what I want.\"\n\nDouglas's hands clenched into fists at his side as he took a slow deep breath, trying to keep himself calm. \"Every day, it's like I'm fighting a battle I can't win. My father... He doesn't understand. He's always pushing me, trying to mold me into something I don't know if I can be. All I've ever wanted was to find my own path, to be my own person.\"\n\nIt was clear that these words were not spoken often, and Douglas appreciated the chance to finally speak them aloud. Even if he was not sure why he was telling all of this to someone he had just met. \"I just... I guess I'm scared,\" He finally admitted, his voice barely a whisper on the wind. \"Scared of disappointing him, scared of not living up to his expectations, and most of all, scared of who I might become if I do. It's a lot to try and juggle and figure out. Being out here... Helps, even if just for a little while\" He said with a small shy smile as he added at last, \"Names Douglas by the way.\"\n\n||" }, { "author": "Hyacinthus", "message": "Doug's presence was a contradiction - a blend of strength and youthful uncertainty. His muscled frame was clad in simple clothes and his skin bore the marks of countless battles. Despite their peaceful surroundings, he wore a look on his face that spoke of unseen demons, his eyes alive with the scars of his martial lineage. In stark contrast, the god embodied a different kind of legacy altogether; his soft features and slight form seemed to belong to the mountainside itself, as if sculpted by the very earth itself. \n\nHyacinthus' eyes were a striking shade of violet as he stood before the son of Ares in attire that was a simple chiton of forest hues. Blending seamlessly with their environment, it made him appear as less of a separate entity and more a natural extension of the landscape itself. When Doug spoke about his troubles, the god listened with curiosity. His turmoil was clearly deep-rooted and he wore it with regret, but did his best to disguise it behind a veneer of paper-thin durability. \n\n**You feel trapped,\"** Hyacinthus said gently as he watched Doug reflect on his situation. **\"By a legacy which demands strength and power. It's an endless battle.\"** There was a beat as he continued to listen, the wind blowing through his tousled brown locks as he stood before him on the mountaintop. **\"Your father expects you to be a warrior, but it sounds like you're no longer sure if that's even what you want.\"** The young god's eyes glinted with contemplative empathy as he studied the tension in the demigod's posture. There was clearly more to the weight upon his broad shoulders.\n\n**\"I don't understand it,\"** He continued. **\"But it's hardly difficult to grasp. My life began in Sparta, in a place called Amyclae. My father was a king and expected his son to be a beacon to his people. One of courage and ferocity - a man they could rely on to continue the legacy of a militaristic empire that loved to spill blood.\"** Hyacinthus looked down, meeting Doug's eyes with a mixture of earnest relief. **\"But I broke that mould a long time ago. Despite being a prince, I removed my shackles and embraced who I am. I made my own legacy - one of beauty and peace, and focused on what I truly loved. But there are still days I feel a storm brewing inside me. There has** ***Always*** **Been a longing to break free from being chained to the expectations of others.\"**\n\nThe god smiled, the gentle curve of his lips reminiscent of his ability to empathise with the demigod who explained what plagued him. It was easy to project an image of what people expected from you, especially when it aligned so closely with what you had been taught to value. But inside, it was clear that the legacy one inherited is simply one thread in a collection of fibres that constituted the overall story of a person's life. \n\n**\"I know that you must be frightened. You love your father and you don't want to disappoint him,\"** The young god observed. **\"But how do you reconcile those expectations with your own desires? How do you honour your lineage without being completely consumed by it?\"** He then asked, before pressing forward on the dirt to offer the demigod a hand to help him to his feet. **\"I think first, you have to realise it's ok to question things. That it's ok to feel doubt. Nothing can truly define us wholly without complete understanding of the entire story.\"**\n\nBirdsong tweeted with a chipper melody that flooded the scene with a welcome rush of serenity as the sun rose above the mountains behind him. The gentle breeze rustled through loose leaves scattered across the dirt, carrying the promise of understanding and acceptance. Hyacinthus was no psychic, but he knew what it meant to question every part of himself until he no longer felt like he even knew who he was. **\"So yes, being here is the first step. And maybe together we can find ourselves. My name is Hyacinthus,\"** The god smiled. **\"It is very nice to meet you.\"**\n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "At the heart of Ares Heights, overlooking the city, stands the Warrior's Plaza - a grand arena where gods in disguise, demigods, and the bravest of humans engage in martial competitions and combat demonstrations. The arena, surrounded by statues of Ares in various battle poses, serves as both a training ground and venue for epic duels that showcase combat prowess. Spectators gather to witness displays of martial skill and pay homage to the god of war." }, { "author": "Arsenio Vairnon", "message": "\"If I'm Gay, Why Aren't You?\" \n\nIt shouldn't have been surprising that Arsenio would find something or someone to do. \nDating apps and good genes did the work for him while he corralled a little lamb into the side of some building, shrouded in shadow, but not enough to be completely concealed. A little blonde thing, small and fit just right for the size difference. He'd apologize to Andros later. Surely that Eros guy would be content with knowing that even Pan's demigod wasn't above making out with a cute little twink. Hailing from France, he was just indulging the culture, right? \nFlicking his gaze up, his eyes caught someone staring. At first, that excited him, but then the longer he had to lock eyes, the longer Arsenio had to realize that he was looking at someone he'd been warned about. \nMaybe he would... Go away?\n\nThe makeout session didn't take very long, and Arsenio had gotten increasingly bored with the lack of action. The denial was cute to a point, but not enough to keep his attention. Plus, he was originally on his way to do something more productive with his time. \n\nAs soon as he parted from the blonde, the demigod rounded the corner to head down the path and out of Ares' heights, when he stopped. Right there was that same guy, who was staring at him before.\n\n**\"Can I help you? Cause if you're looking for directions, you got the wrong guy.\"** \nHis gaze slid over Douglas' form and back up to his face, in a full body scan; sizing him up. \nThe sun was out and beat down hot against his neck, though Arsenio wasn't entirely convinced that it was just the sun and he wasn't already irritated. \n\nThe other man was not small, but neither was Arsenio. He barely cared for a polite introduction, much less for the fact that word had gotten around pretty fast that the Ares boys were nothing but trouble. \nBut they didn't know who the fuck they just stepped up to. His stance said \"If you got a problem, it's best you don't.\" It was the only warning Douglas was going to get." }, { "author": "Douglas Miller", "message": "It had been a fairly typical morning for Douglas- hours on the nearby training field working through some of his favorite weapons. He had worked up quite a sweat and was ready for a well-deserved break. The weapons and gear had been left behind on the field. One of his father's peons would be around to gather everything up and take anything that needed repair or clearing to the forge.\n\nIt was on his way back from the field that Douglas caught sight of the one person he had been looking for but also hoping he wouldn't find. He had heard rumors that a couple of Pan's sons had come to town. His curiosity had been piqued he had wondered where they were and where they would show their faces. Douglas hadn't expected to find one of them in his father's area, snogging some twink like a whore. But here he was, standing in front of him once more, acting like he was some big shot or something, obviously not aware of the price of crossing a son of Ares.\n\n\"Not lost. Quite the contrary, I believe you are the one lost as it seems you have wandered into my turf accidentally.\" Douglas looked Arsenio over up and down again, lip curling into a smug sneer. \"You're one of Pan's kids aren't ya? Funny. I would have thought the kids of the fucking satyr would have had hooves or horns too.\"\n\nThe sneer grew at the look on Arsenio's face and he knew he had hit a nerve. Douglas wasn't going to back down easily that was for sure. He stood his ground, squaring his shoulders and clenching his fists at his sides, daring Arsenio to try anything funny. He could see the challenge in those blazing eyes as they met his own, but he refused to give anything away as he also sized up the man before him. \n\n\"Best run back to your woods. This area is reserved for warriors, not whatever you call yourself,\" Douglas scoffed. This was his turf; he wouldn't be intimidated by some half-blood who thought he could just waltz in and act like this place was his personal playground.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Arsenio Vairnon", "message": "Arsenio's gaze finally landed on the other male's face, noting how round his face was. He didn't look like a fighter. A bit thin, yet soft in the same way men who didn't work with their hands were soft. His eyes held little conviction, yet burned in an intensity that made his irritation look fake. \nYet it still pissed the twin off.\n\nHe didn't know what this guy's problem really was, but just being on someone's turf was nearly gang-like. Yet it wasn't so serious that Arsenio took any stock in it. He must have been a God's kid also, by the association; like being Pan's kid was his name. \nIt wasn't.\n\n**\"So, what? You're in a street gang? You?\"** The rate his eyes flicked from head to toe said that Arsenio didn't believe a word of that. Who the hell used the word \"Turf\" Anymore? \nEither way, whoever this was had one chance to step off before he was put on his ass. He wasn't some mortal who didn't know how to fight. \n\nThere wasn't a whole lot of offense taken for being one of Pan's kids, even as it was thrown in his face like they were about to hit record for an episode of \"Yo Mama\".\n\nPeople walked by them, soldiers, civilians, all passed by, and the pressure of being in public only heated that coil. This guy had one chance to get it right and let him by before it became a problem.\nIt was true that Arsenio had a short fuse, but he'd been working on it.\n\n**\"I don't know you. I don't know your name, what you stand for, or any of that. But here's some advice: don't step up on strangers when you don't know what they can do. So you can get that Ralph Polo wearing, \"My daddy is a lawyer\" Shit out of my face.\"** \nThat was his only warning." }, { "author": "Douglas Miller", "message": "A torrent of hot rage surged through Douglas as Arsenio's insults towards him, and by association his father as well, continued to fly from his lips. His hands clenched into tight fists as he struggled to hold back the urge to strike out at this half-blood who dared to disrespect him. \"You will regret the day you chose to challenge Ares' Champion,\" He snarled, his eyes narrowing with determination. He could feel the adrenaline and the power that came with it coursing through his body, muscles rippling and straining under the shirt he wore as he prepared to launch himself at his opponent. With a guttural growl, he charged forward, every fiber of his being focused on taking down Arsenio in a display of raw strength and fury.\n\nThe sounds of boots against asphalt mixed with gravel and sand blended with the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. The smell of sweat and hot tempers were almost palpable in the air as Douglas closed the distance between them. To his credit, Arsenio stood his ground, determined to defend himself in this challenge. Douglas could feel the tension mounting within him, the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he faced off against his younger brother. He was tired of these petty helmetless fights - he wanted something real, something that would truly test his strength and resolve. And it seemed that today, he would finally get what he desired.\n\nIf Arsenio was paying attention he would see Douglas's fists clenched tightly at his sides, flexing slightly as it they were attempting to grasp a weapon that was not there. There was no more talking; it was purely action now. Tension filled the air as Douglas lunged forward and tried to tackle Arsenio to the ground. They both were demigods, Douglas knew this, blessed by the gods. But Douglas was no ordinary demigod - he was Ares' champion, blessed with unparalleled speed, strength, and stamina. As they circled each other, every movement calculated and precise, it was clear that this was no longer a battle of words but one of pure action. With a fierce determination in his eyes, Douglas lunged forward and attempted to tackle Arsenio to the ground, his focus solely on claiming victory in this divine clash of wills and there was only going to be one left standing when the dust settled. \n\n||" }, { "author": "Arsenio Vairnon", "message": "Douglas wasn't the only one fighting to fill some primal need. One of out necessity that would ensure that neither him nor his brother got hurt. It wasn't an ego-fueled venture, and he got rarely very little enjoyment from it, but his passion for it kept him coming back. It kept him working out and test that next level of where he thought he should be. Against regular mortals, he was god tier. \nAgainst another demi god? \nWell, he atleast needed some wit about him, otherwise this was just a normal street fight.\n\nThe tackle caused Arsenio to lean, pressing his arm up into Douglas' neck when he tried to get his arms around him. \nThe other hand was still holding his helmet from his motorcycle. He'd left to go meet that boy originally, and attempted to go back to the forge. He just so happened to hold onto the protection.\n\nThis wasn't going to be a fair fight. \nBut that wasn't really Arsenio's problem. It was Douglas'. \n\nA shove put some space between them and the helmet came flying down from above, blotting out the sun moments like a black boulder before it splintered against the corner of Douglas' head and face. \nArsenio dropped the helmet, and he clattered away from them. A fist - now free- wrapped around Douglas' shirt and he wailed on his face with his right.\nArsenio was a powerhouse compared to most, so how Douglas sized up to his power and what damage he could cause alone would be interesting. \nEither way, it was bound to teach him a lesson." }, { "author": "Douglas Miller", "message": "Everything seemed to slow down as his shoulder collided with Arsenio and the two began to struggle against each other.He didn't want to hurt Arsenio, not really, not at least at the start. But he couldn't let him win either. This was a test of strength and skill, a test of who was better, who was the better man of them. Douglas need to win this fight, he had to prove himself worthy of the title of Son and Champion of Ares. The air was filled with the grunts and growls of two powerful beings exchanging blows, feet scrambling to get upright and bodies being thrown against each other. \n\nThe dust around them rose up in a cloud, swirling like a whirlwind before settling back down again as they exchanged shoves and punches, grabbing at each other like wild animals. All bets were off, there was no holding back anymore. If this guy wanted to fight the Champion of Ares then he was going to get just that. Douglas got his feet under him sure enough and attempted to connect with an uppercut that would hopefully send Arsenio flying backwards. But Arsenio was too quick - he ducked under it just in time and shoved the other demigod back.\n\nAn instant later it seemed Douglas was launching himself back at his target. Only instead of Arsenio's fist it was the heavy helmet that came swinging at his face. It connected with a sickening crack as the white hot pain exploded behind his eyes. Douglas didn't know how long it lasted but he had blacked out for at least a few seconds because the next thing he was aware of was Arsenio leaning over him wailing away. It took just a few seconds, though enough for a few blows to land, and then Douglas' hand shot out with the super-human speed of a demigod and grabbed his fist before it landed again. \n\n\"You fucking bastard! You're going to regret that!\" He snared, his eyes burning with anger. His hand gripping tightly around Arsenio's Douglas kicked up aiming at the other demigod's stomach, trying to knock him back and knock the wind out of him." }, { "author": "Arsenio Vairnon", "message": "Arsenio had been in plenty of fights to know when someone wants room to make a move, so when he noticed that Douglas was bringing his leg up, he simply moved. \nNo doubt he'd extend his leg and roll an ankle or hurt himself. \n\nThat was the difference between a hotheaded fighter and someone who had experience. \nGranted, Arsenio could have a temper. His fuse was silent, however, and it wasn't until someone's jaw was sideways that it was obvious that the twin was looking to break teeth. \n\nLike a malicious slinky, Arsenio came back to him. His left fist collided just right underneath Douglas' jaw, laying him out after hitting such a sensitive spot. No doubt the hit had his teeth clattering. \n\nThe demigod looked arpund his helmet, and the realized it was shattered in the face plate. Goddamnit. \nHe really could only be mad at himself for that, as he was the one who used it as a weapon. \n\n**\"The next time you want to fucking judge somebody for being who they are, you can come find me at the fucking forge. I'll kick your ass for them.\"** \nHe tossed his broken motorcycle helmet to the stone below, and it rolled pathetically with how mishapen it was. \n\nSadly, Arsenio had to dip. He knew better than anyone that cops would come, and he wasn't about to be around to have pretty silver bands put on him again. \n\n||" }, { "author": "Stratios Douglas Miller", "message": "Douglas did his best to watch Arsenio's movements, to try and calculate where he was going and avoid his fist. He managed for a bit but fighting hand-to-hand was a lot different than fighting with his weapons, any of his weapons... Douglas would never have admitted it out loud, especially to the likes of Arsenio, but he was surprised. Surprised at how good the other demigod was and how quickly the tides seemed to turn... Against him.\n\nIt all came to a head when Arsenio decided to cheat. And yes, Douglas would say it was cheating without hesitation. He braced himself for impact as Arsenio charged towards him with the full force of his weight behind the helmet. The instant the helmet connected with the side of his head, Douglas went down in a daze. His vision blurred and swirled as white hot pain exploded in his head, drowning out all other senses. \n\nEverything then faded into blackness as he lost consciousness, the clamor around him fading into a dull hum. When he finally came to, the dust still lingered in the air around him and he could hear Arsenio's voice talking to him... But it was all muffled and distant, drowned out by the persistent ringing in his ears\n\nThe first thing he was really aware of once the lights stopped dancing behind his eyes and the dizziness lessened enough for him to lift his head was that he was laying in the street alone. Arsenio was gone, the busted helmet lying a little ways away and his throbbing face the only evidence of their fight. \n\nStaggering to his feet, Douglas heard shouting and knew it was time to get out of dodge. He headed off down the street, hand to his face, a string of curses falling from his lips as he went, directed at Arsenio... And at himself." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "At the heart of Artemis Wilderness lies the Artemis Hunting Grounds, a vast and untamed expanse where gods and mortal hunters alike venture into the wild. The terrain is varied, featuring dense forests, sprawling meadows, and rushing rivers. This pristine wilderness serves as a sanctuary for various mythical creatures and a challenging hunting ground for those seeking Artemis's favor." }, { "author": "icy_lu", "message": "**Title:** The Lion, The Wine and The Woods\n**Location:** Artemis Hunting Grounds\n**Characters:** Bia and Valerian\n**Pings:**" }, { "author": "Valerian", "message": "*Greenery. Peace. Solitude.*\n\nNestled in a secluded woodland area of the Artemis Hunting Ground: a wild and wonderful setting that fulfilled the innate desire to be surrounded in the healing arms of nature, Valerian had worked the courage to venture to the known wild area in hopes to find what he had been seeking. A moment to escape his mourning mind and perhaps that was why he had brought with him a bottle of red wine to aid in the task.\n\nHad he successfully brought about his wish? Definitely. Having sat against the thick trunk of an oak tree as he indulged in the bitter red elixir, the demigod felt himself be free for a moment from the clutches of his own misery. His eyes, his nose and ears - the senses of the human body became in sync with the pulsing life that constantly existed in the silent titans of creation. \n\nTrees were remarkable in the blond boy's eyes. Tall and rooted to who they were. They held a quiet strength within them that was undeniable yet they exuded a graceful spirit of acceptance that Valerian could not articulate. For as his back leaned against the course bark of the oak, he felt embraced. He felt... Comforted from his own self. \n\nThe sun was fast approaching its daily retreat and the youth instinctively knew it was time to leave the hunting grounds. The night came with mysterious that he was yet ready to witness - he had heard the stories and Val was in no mood or state to deal with such encounters.\n\nSlightly wobbling to his feet with a giggle, Val placed the almost empty green bottle in his backpack and steadily, with one foot in front of the the other, to find his way out of the scared hunting grounds. \n\nHad it been his brightest idea to partake in this endeavour with a bottle wine? Definitely not - for Val was soon lost to the world of green and tipsy, seeking an exit to that had currently alluded him. \n_ _\n\n\"Shit,\" He muttered as he came to a halt as the denseness of the woods started to become thicker and the demigod accepted he was heading in the wrong direction.\n\nLight was fast descending and panic was beginning to settle within the fragile bones of the scrawny homosexual lost in the wild paradise of beasts. Val's heart began to pulse faster as spun around the clearing he found himself looking for any sign leading to an exit. But there was none within his sights. \n\nHe was lost. Utterly and tipsily lost...\n\n||" }, { "author": " Bia", "message": "The setting Sun's rays had embraced the wilderness, its gentle ambience giving rest and peace to the weary. A sanctuary tucked away, forever a secret, as if it were the fifth corner of the planet undiscovered.\n\nLong blades of grass kissed her paws, brushing against her legs with every step that she took. After a long day of animal-watching, Bia was in search of a clearing in the woods, so she could rest on the raw Earth and fall asleep under the night sky. The other animals at Artemis' hunting grounds were not aware of Bia's divinity, just as the mortals of Olympian, although the former seemed more at ease around her than the latter.\n\nExcept for one, *Terribly* Annoying pigeon.\n\nThe Goddess was old- almost ancient, even, and she was not of petty personage. If an Immortal were petty, they'd only be sentencing themselves to a life of constant discomfort and perpetual irritability. Even *If* A mortal could *Somehow* Get under Bia's skin, she knew better than to react as such.\n\nBut *Gods*, this pigeon- regurgitated from the very depths of the fields of punishment, made *Just* To tear into Bia's patience, bit by bit, ripping it apart and rolling around in its ruins like the monstrous beast that it was.\n\nIts talons pressed down on Bia's head, forcing her head down as it let out a harsh cry.\n\nMaybe she'd come back for star-gazing later.\n\nAround 15, 30 years later.\n\n** **\nThe Goddess growled in irritation, tilting her head back as she faltered in her steps, to glare at the demon bird. She stilled for a moment, her eye trained on the pigeon, before leaping up from the ground. A louder growl sounded from Bia as she reached for the bird, barely catching its tail between her razor sharp teeth. The pair continued in this way; the bird, taunting the Goddess, and Bia, pouncing on it in vain. She hadn't realized that, in her pursuit for vengeance, she'd been led astray in the now pitch black wilderness, till she came face to face with the mortal that had been cruising around the woods with his hand trailing the brush.\n\nThe Goddess stilled, staring down the lanky blond. The only sound to pull them both out of their noiseless stupor, a shrill coo from the demon bird.\n\nAh, yes. *'Shit,'* As the mortal had so eloquently put." } ]

[ { "author": "wingmancan", "message": "Medical aid is being given to those affected by a battle between gods." }, { "author": "Sasha Baskov", "message": "Being outside of a hospital wasn't ideal for surgery, but Sasha didn't have much of a choice. The world was a battleground for the gods, and it didn't always mean a clean room or even a doctor was readily available. Sometimes it was just a piece of neutral territory carved out for temporary refugee camps where medical tents were erected. Sometimes it was the middle of a street with a screaming ambulance on the way. \n\nFor Sasha, it was under the cover of an awning, surrounded by medical beds overflowing with screaming patients. Bloodstained curtains hung down to give off some semblance of privacy, but they were sheer which barely blurred the gruesome scene behind them. \n\n\"Keep pressure,\" Sasha said. \n\nHis hands worked fast, meticulously trying to rescue the girl on the table. There were shards of glass the length of Sasha's hand buried into her chest, and he was trying to work the first one out without causing any excess damage. Luckily, the girl had mercifully passed out after getting some anesthesia, but somehow that didn't loosen the pressure pushing down on his shoulders. They weren't out of the woods until the largest piece of glass released its hold on the girl's heart. \n\nThe first shard was pulled free, and Sasha rushed to cover the wound as blood gushed. It was the most shallow entry, but the poor girl had already lost enough. He quickly set to work stitching the wound, fingers working fast as his eyes bounced between his work and the heart monitor only two feet away from him.\n\nWith one shard out of the way, Sasha had the space he needed to focus on the more life-threatening wound which was lodged straight into the girl's chest. He took a deep breath; there was a reason another doctor had marked her as low survival during triage. The surgery was too difficult for a field dressing.\n\nBut Sasha wasn't giving up that easily." }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "Asklepios wandered the streets seeking solitude and a bit of quiet to think. He walked with a slight stoop, puffing away at his old wooden pipe and mumbling to himself. He had always found the ritual of smoking to be a gateway to deeper understanding, whether about himself or the chaotic world around him. This particular evening, as the smoke curled into the cooling air, he stumbled upon a chaotic scene that disrupted his pondering: a makeshift medical battlefield carved out beneath an awning. Medical beds lined the area, filled with patients whose cries pierced the evening air, their suffering barely concealed by bloodstained curtains that fluttered like ghosts in the breeze. He stopped to assessing the scene, and a young man caught his eye. Asklepios watched the young man work, admiring his refusal to succumb to the situation. Moved by Sasha's determination under such dire circumstances, Asklepios inspired to help. Setting aside his pipe, he approached the makeshift operating table, his presence calm and assured. \"Need another set of hands?\" He offered, his voice carrying the weight of experience.\n\nWorking side by side, the two formed an immediate and efficient partnership. Asklepios's experienced hands provided the precise support Sasha needed. He adjusted the heart monitor to keep it within view, ensuring they would be immediately alerted to any distressing changes in the patient's condition. As Sasha focused on the deeper, more life-threatening shard of glass, Asklepios prepared the necessary sutures, his movements swift and practiced. As they worked, the street seemed to fall away, the cries dimmed, and for a moment, their small corner under the awning was the entire world—two healers bent over a life they refused to give up on. When the last stitch was secured and the girl's breathing stabilized, Asklepios exchanged a look of weary relief with the young lad. Seeing that he was relief, Asklepios smiled and put a hand on his shoulder, saying, \"It's what we do, a small, knowing smile touching his lips as he picked up his pipe once again. He had set out for a walk to clear his mind, but fate had other plans, intertwining his path with Sasha's." }, { "author": "Sasha Baskov", "message": "Sasha was so focused on the task at hand that he didn't hear the old man approach until he was addressing him directly. Eyes snapping up to meet the stranger's, Sasha's brow only furrowed for a second before relenting. While he didn't know the man's expertise, he was almost one hundred percent sure that no one would offer to help such a complex surgery unless they had experience in the field themselves. \n\nHad he known in that moment he was talking to *The* Asklepios, he might have sounded less demanding when he spoke. \n\n\"Any help is appreciated. Sanitize and grab some gloves.\" He nodded to the table where the stranger could wash up and retrieved all the tools he needed to dive right in. The nurse helped direct him as Sasha didn't want to lift his hands from his patient to point things out. \n\nThen they were both hard at work, hands moving quickly to remove the shard of glass and staunch the flow of blood. Sasha worked fast and efficiently, but with the stranger's help, everything went a lot smoother and his chest swelled with hope. The young woman had a much stronger chance with two experienced doctors hunching over her to keep her alive. \n\nDespite their quick work, minutes still managed to turn into an hour before they stabilized her. With the heart monitor still beeping in a steady, rhythmic beat, they were able to sew her up and wrap her in bandages without incident. Sasha breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped back, bloody hands dropping to his side as he took a moment to relax. \n\nA smile caressed his lips when the man spoke afterward. \"Heh. Yeah . . . And who do I have the honor of working with? I'm Doctor Baskov.\" He offered a bloody gloved hand to shake." }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "The old man didn't say much. He watched with keen eyes as the young doctor worked, his hands steady as he removed shards of glass from a patient and stemmed the flow of blood. When the doctor spoke, requesting assistance, the stranger complied with a nod, his movements slow but sure. He washed his hands with the practiced ease of one familiar with the rituals of surgery, donned gloves, and joined the doctor at the operating table. As they worked side by side, the old man's guidance was subtle. His hands moved with a grace that belied his age, his motions weaving seamlessly with the young doctor's efforts. Together, they stabilized the patient. Once the immediate danger had passed and the patient was secured with bandages, the old man stepped back, observing the young doctor's relief. His gaze was warm, his eyes twinkling with an unspoken knowledge. \n\n\"Just a wanderer of sorts, Dr. Baskov,\" He replied. He discarded his gloves, his gaze never wavering from the young doctor's. \"You handled yourself well. It's not every day you see such skill.\" When he saw that the man was not satisfied with his answer, he added, \"Let's just say I like to be where I'm needed,\" He said. \"Sometimes, a little help from an unexpected source can make all the difference, wouldn't you agree?\" With a knowing look, the old man took his old wooden pipe back out and lit it with a match, puffing away contentedly. The chaos around them didn't seem to bother him. It was all a matter of perspective born from time. After blowing a smoke ring into the air, he said, \"Tell me, Dr. Baskov, what got you into medicine in the first place? You seem awfully young to be a surgeon. Do you come from a family of doctors? Oh, forgive me, I haven't given you my name yet, have I? You may call me Lepos.\" He took another puff, a mischievous little smile playing on his lips.\n\n||" }, { "author": "asha daskov", "message": "Working together with the stranger, Sasha noticed how practiced his movements were, how he seemed to know things that only actual surgeons knew. He was too skilled with his hands to be some random passer-by. Sasha wondered if it was really a coincidence that he showed up that day, or if he was just being humble. It didn't matter either way to him; he was just happy that the patient was saved. \n\n\"Heh. Right,\" He said in response to the man's explanation. Wanderer was putting it lightly. He was an angel. \"You weren't so bad yourself.\" It was a humble version of a bigger compliment. The stranger was *Amazing.*\n\nSasha removed his gloves and washed his hands, a smile still on his face. His mood improved substantially since they were able to save the one patient everyone thought wouldn't be able to be saved. He finally got a good look at the stranger since he was no longer so focused on his patient. He wasn't sure why, but the older man seemed familiar somehow, though Sasha couldn't figure out where he might have seen him before. \n\n\"Yeah . . . I'm very grateful for your help. I'm not sure I could have saved her on my own.\" It's something he didn't like to admit, but the whole incident had been very humbling. \n\nHe finished cleaning himself up and then turned to face Lepos - what a strange name - to give him his full attention. \"My father inspired me to go into medicine,\" He said, referring of course to his adopted father rather than the *Other* One. \"He was a surgeon.\" He paused, realizing he might be revealing too much about himself if he talked about his age. \"I'm a lot older than I look, though. Just have a baby face.\" \n\nHe offered his hand to shake now that it was clean. \"It's nice to meet you, Lepos.\"" }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "\"Mmmhmm? Oh, yes, yes, I have my moments, indeed, though they seem to come fewer and farther between than they did when I was younger,\" He said wistfully, puffing away. \"Don't sell yourself short—I'm sure you would've been just fine without some old man bumbling into your surgery and getting in the way.\" He smiled and then reached into his pocket to take out a golden watch, the old-fashioned kind you have to wind up by hand. It dangled from a gold chain with intricate designs carved into the soft metal. Checking the time, he muttered to himself, shook it, winded it up a few times and then puffed contentedly. \n\n\"Your father, you say? Mm. And just who is your father, if you don't mind me asking? As for the baby face, yes, I see that, though I am far too gentlemanly to ask your age. I will take your word for it, my lad.\" Asklepios took another puff and looked out over the horizon absent-mindedly, as though he had forgotten he was right in the middle of an interaction. Things almost got awkward, but then he noticed the extended hand and gave it an earnest shake. \"Well met, Doctor Baskov. Always nice to meet another good fellow with an interest in medicine. Important stuff, this medical profession of yours. Can't have enough doctors on speed dial these days, no, mmmm... Especially at my age.\"\n\nAsklepios suddenly reached into his pocket and took out a small, white card. It was blank, save for a string of digits printed on the center of it. \"I'm absolutely certain I have something I must attend to, somewhere, around this time,\" He paused, brows furrowing, \"But take this. If you ever need help, or just some advice from an old fool who has lived too long and smokes too much, this is how to find me.\" He handed Sasha the card and checked his watch again, muttering to himself about seedlings or morphine or the concentration of noxious gas on Saturn—it was hard to say really—before he gave Sasha a friendly pat on the shoulder and then meandered down the road, leaving behind only a trail of rich oaken smoke." }, { "author": "asha daskov", "message": "\"Well you had more than just a moment here. You helped me save this woman's life and that deserves all the praise in the world.\" Lepos's humble attitude reminded Sasha of his father - his adopted father, anyway. The way he had very obvious skill but didn't act cocky about it. The way he seemed to do it all so effortlessly whereas Sasha had been struggling on his own. \"Heh. If you call *That* Getting in the way, then you can get in my way anytime.\" \n\nWhen it became clear that Lepos wasn't paying attention well enough to notice his offered hand, Sasha nearly let his arm drop back to his side. Just in time, though, Lepos caught on and they were formally introduced. \n\nSmiling, Sasha finally pulled back. \"His name was Terrence Baskov. He was a well-renowned surgeon at NewYork-Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital. It was a long time ago, though.\" Remembering his parents used to bring him to tears more often than not. Now he spoke of them with pride, and his smile only grew when he shared their memory with others. He missed them so much, but the pain had long settled. \n\n \"Heh! I wouldn't find it rude if you did,\" Sasha said, but still didn't divulge his age since he wasn't asked. \"Honestly, I wish there were more out there, especially with all that's going on. It feels like we're shorthanded more often than not.\"\n\nAccepting the card when it was handed to him, Sasha looked over it with a confused brow. He expected a full name and a picture along with contact information, but all he got was a number. Somewhat of a surprise given the man's skill; he assumed a doctor of his caliber would have fancy business cards to hand out as needed. \n\n\"Thank you,\" He said, maintaining his smile throughout the whole interaction. It was hard to get his mood down when they had done something so good together. \"I will take you up on that.\" There was still something so familiar about the old man, but he couldn't place it and it was bothering him. \"It was nice to meet you, Lepos.\" \n\nEven as he said it, the old man was already wandering off and mumbling to himself. Sasha wasn't even sure he was heard. Shaking his head, he turned back to his work, moving on to the next patient that was in need of his services." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "Dominating the skyline of Athena's Academia is the Ivory Tower, a majestic structure that serves as the central seat of learning and wisdom. The tower houses the Grand Library of Athena, containing an unparalleled collection of scrolls, tomes, and divine knowledge. Scholars and gods alike converge here to engage in intellectual pursuits, research, and contemplation." }, { "author": "- Niklas.", "message": "Here, at one of the city's looming peaks, they would meet. For a man who never knew comfortability, he found an unsaid value in routine. It was his, and it was hers. When she was in his proximity, it could be felt in spirit alone. A weight pressed on the brawn of his shoulders like the earth— so, so heavy, yet the air felt clearer when she was around. The materials of his soul were surely forged in a similar way as hers, entwined in a knot that could not be undone. He would have to be lacerated to slither from her grasp, snipped like a cord.\n⠀\nNiklas was not accustomed to an interpersonal depth of this magnitude. He was not entirely unattached; with such years of life beneath his belt, he had known fellowship and short–term lust. However, it had all been far too fleeting. There are his pledged loyalties scattered among Europe, men that think of Niklas respectfully, but they know too little. None knew his secrets, and never did he feel an inclination to shout them away. In the presence of Nemesis, it felt possible. No, he would not say them, not so soon— but it felt feasible, in a world that was improbable. There was no need for him to stand in the dark, for he could look further into the shadows and see her standing there, as well.\n⠀\nHe preferred the tower this way, illuminated by moonlight. Below, cramped buildings twinkled with incandescent lighting and took the place of gleaming stars. The openness of the tower let in the wind of the night, and it fell through the short strands of his hair. Mountains, so distant from this puzzling metropolis, were blackened outlines in his sight. He was alone. The tower was hushed, but he knew of her absence only by the looseness of his muscles. The goddess had not yet arrived, with both her beauty and her complications.\n⠀\n\nNiklas stood nearest to an array of bookshelves, suspiciously faultless in their arrangement. It was as though they were less for use and more for decoration. Still, he could see that they were not ridden with dust or the touch of age. The man was not yet comfortable enough to pluck one from the shelves and file through its pages. A part of him wanted to. He navigated the room with the stance of a weary, unloved dog. As a boy, he would have scuffed the polished floors with mud–caked boots and found a book. War history, perhaps. A book on periods of art, so that he could better his abilities and show them to his brother, who eyed Niklas's sketches in awe.\n⠀\nNiklas was no boy, and he had no brother. His boots were several sizes larger, and just a tad cleaner. In the absence of the sun, he wore a cloak that stopped below his knees, and one of his hands was grazing over the faces of loose coins in his pocket. If he could choose a book now, he would not know what he would lean towards. War was less history now, for it was a presence in his life. He felt restless in the thought of reading about lovelier things. He was unsure what that would entail.\n⠀\nA step was taken, and the floor creaked with it. When he moved, however, the tower shifted in vitality. There was something more than himself here, now. It was her.\n⠀\nNiklas did not know what to expect from her, but he felt a wavering safety. He believed that she had no desire to harm him, but she had the capacity for it. If he was a fool, he might say the same of himself. That was a brawl that he would not win. She could disarm him and pluck the sutures from his mind to allow herself a peek. She could do this, and he would kneel in her glory.\n⠀\nHe turned, and awaited the visibility of her face. A strand of his hair fell from its place, just at his brow bone. He let out a soundless sigh, and the moon caused his face to glow blue." }, { "author": "Nemesis", "message": "──────────────────── ❝ *Vengeance is mine . . . * ❞ ────────────────────\nSETTING﹕Library, tower afterhours.\nPINGS﹕ \nNOTES﹕ We are so back (Tipsy's version).\n──────────────────── ❝ *And I will repay.*❞ ────────────────────\n\nNemesis lingered in the veil of shadows, her essence woven into the fabric of the dimly lit room where Niklas stood, a solitary figure among the meticulously arranged bookshelves. Her hand rested casually on the hilt of a dagger behind her back, an artifact of divine craftsmanship gifted to her by Hephaestus himself. This was no ordinary blade; it was a masterpiece wrought from celestial fires and cooled in the tears of the Fates. The dagger's edge was a sliver of the night sky, a slice of darkness honed to an impossible sharpness, while its handle bore the intricate designs of ancient sigils, pulsing with a light that seemed to encapsulate the essence of stars. An unthinkable blade for an unimaginable man, but she was going to hold off on her gift for a bit.\n\nUntil he passed a test of hers.\n\nThe room seemed like a stage set for a play that had long since forgotten its script. She observed him closely, noting the way he lingered on the spines of the books, symbols of knowledge and history untouched. Yet, there was a hesitation in his movements, a reluctance to reach out and bridge the gap between curiosity and the tangible weight of the tomes. She didn't understand what led to the indecision, rather she felt like she could. It mirrored her own reservations concerning the mortal realm, a place where her ethereal nature often felt at odds with the corporeal world. Despite blending in physically, she spoke differently. Her tone carried a solemn nature she was not able to find in replication among her godly peers.\n\nImmortality did not grant assimilation.\n\n——————————————————————\n\nAs he turned to her in the heart of spectral shadows, Nemesis stepped forward, materializing with the elegance of nightfall's embrace.\n\n**\"Champion.\"**\n\nBrown eyes met his with an intensity that bridged worlds, a silent acknowledgment of the path they ventured on together. She paused for a moment, taking in his glow. Moonlight adorned his features, but she smoothly shifted her focus to a nearby bookcase, clearing her throat to distract herself from thinking about the strand of hair dangling in front of his face.\n\nLuck was in her favor; an idea spurred.\n\n**\"Pick out the first book you remember the title of in this room and tell me why.\"**\n\nHer voice resonated, not as sound, but as a commanding vibration felt in the soul. Leaning against the wall behind her, Nemesis watched with an unfathomable calm, already awaiting the results of the task she had set before him." }, { "author": "- Niklas.", "message": "The sight of her caused him to swallow. He could see her, now, and the tenuous twitch of his eye persisted as if she was a stranger. Niklas knew so little of her, yet he felt sure that their convictions must be the same. The nightly shadows became a veil, nearly as dark as her hair. It enveloped her with the impression of a blackened mist, and if he had been untaught, he would surely believe that she was a witch. An enchantress, perhaps— but her hand, fastened behind her back, convinced him that she was more–so a reaper. With blood that was a fraction holy, his was only spilt in lethal endeavors. Within him, he knew that she could spill quarts of it with ease. To be her champion would be a bounty that he had yet to unwrap.\n⠀\nHer youth was irreversible and convincing. The moon did not cast much light to her eyes, and they appeared black and big, watchful of his figure. He could name four–legged beasts with a gaze that was not as famished. The absence of his name from her lips did not sway him, attuned to her hand–picked detachments. He felt no sentiment to his name, and to be without one was to be a man born anew. If he was not born Niklas Bruhl, then he would not be here, standing before her trial. There was greatness in a name, more to interpret than he knew.\n⠀\nIt was ever a strenuous task to part from her gaze, and as she observed him, he did the same. His posture unknowingly improved in her company, and he became capable of glancing elsewhere once she did the same. Lips were pressed into a stony line, and a push of the wind allowed the end of his cloak to steadily sway. Niklas could not deduce her propositions or crooked questions, and he did not yet work to do so.\n⠀\n\nHer words did not end in a question, and her stance communicated to him that she would sit in the quiet for an answer. His lips parted, ambivalent of the request and its revelation. The man would infrequently question if he could fail, but her return was the confirmation of success. He began to nod, though it melded into the turning of his body, angled toward well–preserved books. If she was cloaked in a blindfold of silk and demanded his same tasks, would her hand brush his own, reaching for the same pages? The probabilities were starkly low, but he could not say that it felt inconceivable.\n⠀\n\"Antigone.\"\n⠀\nHe spoke it before he had found it, but its placement on the shelves had, mercifully, been reconstructed in his mind. The charge of his voice replicated hers. On a tall shelf that came an inch above his shoulders, he took the play from where it sat. Its spine was creased, which indicated that it had been well–read despite how it hid in higher spaces. The cover was a smoky black, adorned with an image of a cloaked woman. He did not open it, and he did not turn it on its back.\n⠀\n\"A man that I knew owned many books. I have read Antigone more than once.\" His thumb ghosted the cover, underlining the title. Niklas clasped it as though it was a gift. His gaze returned to her, acclimated to the dark. The tragedy, entwined in the law of gods and the grievance of family, became a narrative that he cherished for its relatability. Niklas knew that it was written as a staple of storytelling rather than a narrative of empathy, yet it felt curated for him. There were great comforts swathed in tales of loss.\n⠀\nLonging for her response, he spoke quieter and from memory. \"'It is the dead, not the living, who make the longest demands.'\"" }, { "author": "Nemesis", "message": "──────────────────── ❝ *Vengeance is mine . . . * ❞ ────────────────────\nSETTING﹕Library, tower afterhours.\nPINGS﹕ \nNOTES﹕ We are so in needing of therapy (Trauma's version)!\n──────────────────── ❝ *And I will repay.*❞ ────────────────────\n\nIn the purest of senses, she enjoyed watching him. Subtle movements dictated buried stories, far denser than the tomes surrounding them. He processed her queries and tasks with nuanced facial twitches that held more weight than the cosmos could conjure.\n\nNiklas, for all his stoic resolve, remained oblivious to the depth of his influence. He moved with a purpose that was both innate and honed by the vicissitudes of fate, his every action a testament to an unwritten code governing his path. The way he straightened before her, a muted but potent acknowledgment of her presence, spoke volumes of his innate respect for forces greater than himself. Yet, it was tempered by an unyielding spirit that refused to bow.\n\nThe faintest semblance of a smile that graced Nemesis's ethereal features was as rare as it was fleeting, a celestial event witnessed by few. It was not born of amusement but of admiration, a recognition of the extraordinary resilience dwelling within this mortal coil. In Niklas, she saw not just a champion but a kindred spirit, one who walked the tightrope between order and chaos with the grace of a seasoned acrobat. In the emptiness of immortality, the din lessened in his vicinity.\n\n\"Antigone.\"\n\n*Antigone?*\n\n——————————————————————\n\nShe pondered his response; the flicker of curiosity caused her to lean forward. A tale steeped in defiance, duty, and the inexorable march of divine justice resonated with her in ways that transcended the mere words of the ancient play. As he continued, her brows, the arches framing the windows to her soul, drew together ever so slightly, not in disapproval but in contemplation. It was as if his words were a key turning in the lock of her own memories, opening vaults of reflection upon her banishment and the relentless pursuit of her own form of justice. The goddess couldn't help but draw parallels between the thematic essence of Antigone's plight and her exile from the underworld. \n\nHer banishment, a consequence of celestial machinations and the intricate dance of power among the gods, mirrored Antigone's ostracization for defying the edicts of the king in favor of familial duty and divine law. Both were tales of resilience in the face of irrevocable decrees, of the solitary fight against the tides of destiny that sought to sweep them into the annals of the forgotten. \n\nAmidst these internal reflections, Nemesis remained acutely aware of Niklas's ignorance of her past, but the serendipitous nature of his choice was impossible to ignore.\n\n**\"A man, though wise, should never be ashamed of learning more and must unbend his mind.\"**\n\nQuoting a line from the book, her voice filled the space between them, a gentle reminder of the wisdom that lay in openness and the pursuit of knowledge. The line she chose served not just as a response but as a bridge to connect them.\n\n——————————————————————\n\n**\"In your choice, I see a reflection of your own journey, a testament to the battles you've fought, both within and without.\"**\n\nShe peeled away from the wall, the shadows reluctantly parting as she bridged the physical distance between them. Her movement was fluid, a dance of light and shadow, as she approached with the divine dagger in hand.\n\n** \"My pursuit of this has labeled me a traitor to a home I can never return to... Justice, like knowledge, *Demands sacrifice.*\"**\n\nThough her tone did not waver, a momentary glance past him hinted at a reminiscence of a realm now as distant as the memories it held. Her gaze, returning to Niklas, was steady, yet the softness in her eyes betrayed a hint of melancholy for a dominion forsaken in the name of a higher calling.\n\n**\"But even in exile, the quest for balance remains undiminished.\"**\n\nGuarded, her stare quickly shed any sliver of vulnerability. He didn't need to see that. This was not the time.\n\n**\"*Will you kneel before me to accept my gift?*\"**\n\nHer voice dropped several octaves, with the dagger now presented in both palms of her hands for full display.\n\n||" }, { "author": "- Niklas.", "message": "As if the book was spread open before her eyes and subjected to recitation, she spoke, and in this alone did he believe that her test was passed. Her voice, hardy like metal, lingered between the great space like smoke. It filled him, and held a potency greater than the graying puffs from cigarettes, smoked aplenty in nights of a bitter, defiant youth. The text still sat in large palms, and he considered taking it home, searching its words until he crossed the line she had chosen. It felt purposive, as did all things with her. Niklas thought of his mind, and the many contents that lingered there. Pummeled and aged, soiled by the premature loss of hope.\n⠀\nThere was much to learn from her, and as he trailed behind her black flame of counsel, he accepted that it must die in due course. She would steer him to truth, and he would fearlessly look to what yearned for him. Nemesis would persist in her immortalized state, without decay or flaw, and his blood would soon run cold. Had there been champions before him, paving his passageway with their bones? Was he kindred to fallen heroes, lionhearted and blessed with fortune? There was no Greek epic that wrote with accuracy to his pain, undying and hardened.\n⠀\nThe silence was surely weighted with his closeted skeletons, for she continued and looked within. At last, that looming mist that served as a morose halo departed from her temples. Niklas was unsettled by the exposure of himself, as if his soul was made of translucent fabric. Somehow, in this unease, the stillness of quietude coexisted. She spoke with a detached intimacy that exposed him, and he succumbed to acceptance. With the diminishment of width from her, that mass on his shoulders exceeded. The winds that tousled his hair and chilled his heels went still, as if she could redefine the elements.\n⠀\n\nA traitor?\n⠀\nIt would be an undisclosed secret, he decided. Her disclosure in him casted a warmth to his eyes, lifting the overcast that came when he was assessed. The warmth was betrayed, however, by her confession— even the gods were not free of affliction, wielded by her equals. Niklas had been mugged of a home before he had ever reached maturity, swindled of tender sentiment. The word held loose meaning, shrouded by thick fog and unattainable memories. He knew not of the tethers that accompanied exile, but he had been shackled by all that he had seen, all that he would not see. When in Germany, he could no longer walk the streets that he had walked in boyhood. He could not bear it.\n⠀\nBy the power of her candor, he was unbridled. Their eyes met, and he felt that he was peering into reflective glass that showed only himself. A moment so precious could not go on for long, and she hardened. Now, there was a gift to take, a contribution to their trek ahead.\n⠀\n\nIn his hands, he held a story. In hers was the instrument that would transcribe his own, and the sight of it alone demanded surrender. Niklas looked to her only once, and slowly, he knelt. It was not inherently a powerless submission, but a humble acceptance of her divinity. His knees met frigid floors, and the book was placed by his side. The moon enhanced the otherworldly structure of the dagger with an ominous glow, and it called to him. He looked to its tip, as if it pined for the blood of the unpunished.\n⠀\n\"I will learn from all that you show me.\"\n⠀\nIt was a vow, a preexisting understanding of their bond. Yet, he was compelled to reaffirm his belief, looking to her. For a man so mighty in stature, she was greater than he could ever be.\n⠀\nNiklas held his palms outward, waiting. He would only take what she handed him. His gaze to her was tempted to waver, and he held his breath.\n⠀\n\"Thank you.\"\n⠀\nIt was remarkably human, and in two words alone did he reciprocate her gone vulnerability. His appreciation pushed his head down honorably— hands open for what she had to give, eyes cast virtuously downward." }, { "author": "Nemesis", "message": "──────────────────── ❝ *Vengeance is mine . . . * ❞ ────────────────────\nSETTING﹕ Library, tower after hours.\nPINGS﹕ \nNOTES﹕ After a million years later. Door 2 with a closer for us. Thank you for your patience. I passed out last night and then further again today on my keyboard for a solid 30 minutes. \n──────────────────── ❝ *And I will repay.*❞ ────────────────────\n\nBeneath a sky veiled by the inky depths of night, where distant stars held court in silent majesty, Nemesis stood beside Niklas. Her presence served as both a beacon and a bastion against the unseen forces that conspired against them. Casting elongated shadows across the terrain, her figure blended seamlessly with the encompassing darkness, shrouded in an aura of ancient power. She observed her champion with profound understanding, recognizing both the sacrifices he had made and his relentless pursuit of justice and truth.\n\nTimeless and knowing, her gaze reflected deep appreciation for the trials he had weathered and the strength he had mustered in the face of relentless adversities. She felt the significance of the burdens he carried, empathizing deeply as she too had traversed paths steeped in solitude and sacrifice.\n\n**\"Crafted by the masterful hands of Hephaestus himself, this blade...**\n\nShe began, her voice resonating with a solemnity that seemed to echo the very tales of fate.\n\n **\"-Is a symbol of the path you have chosen—a path I have watched you tread with unwavering determination and commendable bravery.\"**\n\nFor a moment, she paused, the weight of her words to settling in the cool night air. The dagger, caught in the moonlight, gleamed ominously yet invitingly as she extended it toward her towering champion. Her expression was solemn, imbued with a mix of reverence and concern.\n\n——————————————————————\n\n**\"With my name attached to yours, the enemies you will face will be far greater than you can imagine. Your valor and strength will be tested not just by the mortal coils of fate but by the tendrils of enmity that reach for me. Wield it wise and well.\" ** \n\nShe instructed, emphasizing the gravity of the power he now held. When Niklas accepted the dagger, Nemesis's hand lingered on his for a moment longer than necessary, a muted acknowledgment of their shared bond and her commitment to his cause. Intricately linked now, not just by fate but by the very weapons they wielded, the daggers were more than mere steel—they were a conduit of their combined will, a means for the goddess to reach across the bounds of space and time to aid him when he needed her most.\n\n**\"They will see you as a path to my undoing.\" **\n\nEtched as a traitor in the Underworld's tapestry, she contemplated the potential targets that might strike at him as a means to reach her. The familiarity she held for him, the innate comfort she found in the quiet spaces they shared—he needed to be prepared. \n\nYet, as she watched him grasp the dagger, the Goddess of Retribution was struck by an unusual protectiveness, a feeling that was both foreign and unsettling. This transcended the typical duties of a mentor to a scholar, tapping into something deeper, more visceral. It confused her, this stirring of almost maternal instinct, so rare and powerful within the heart of a goddess who had long balanced the scales of justice with a stern hand rather than a gentle touch.\n\nWhy did this man—this brave, determined soul—invoke such a fierce desire to shield from harm? Her existence had been marked by the enforcement of divine law, not the nurturing of individuals. Yet here she stood, mentally preparing not just to guide the demi-god but to defend him, to stand by his side against adversaries both seen and unseen.\n\n——————————————————————\nHer tone softened to a whisper, barely audible above the delicate rustle of the night breeze.\n\n**\"When the shadows grow long and the enemies draw near, look to them not in fear but with conviction. My spirit is intertwined with the blade you now hold. Think of me, and *I will be there.*\"**\n\nAs Nemesis's form began to dissolve into the wafting breeze, a final resolve set in her ethereal eyes. Silently, she committed to a decisive act to ensure his safety—an impending meeting with Poseidon himself, a strategic maneuver deemed necessary amid the complex weave of godly politics and power plays.\n\nIn the profound silence that followed, Niklas stood alone, fortified by the weight of the dagger in his hand and the promise of the goddess's support. The night enveloped around him, not as a threat but as a cloak of potential, ready to face whatever darkness lay ahead, buoyed by the knowledge that he would never stand alone. Their fates forever intertwined through the bond of their blades and the evocation of ultimate justice." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "Athena's Academia is surrounded by Olive Grove Gardens, meticulously manicured landscapes featuring sacred olive trees. These gardens serve as serene spaces for reflection and intellectual discourse, where students and scholars engage in Socratic dialogues and philosophical debates beneath the shade of ancient olive branches." }, { "author": "Pallas Athena", "message": "It was quiet within the garden, many of the academy's mortal attendants having left for the summer. Few were left to wander the esteemed grounds, leaving the gods that resided here to themselves. One such deity was Athena herself. In a more secluded part of the grove, held the Goddess of Wisdom. Sitting within the shade of a particularly large Olive Tree, the Goddess would lie against the strong timber, leisurely so. Feeding bread to ducks no less. An uncommon act for a Goddess so devote to duty and work. Athena stared into the shimmering waters of a small pond that was beside the tree, her pensive gaze piercing. As if searching for something within the water's murky depths. Perhaps an answer to her current dilemma. For millennia, it had always fallen to Athena to think of a solution, to have all the answers. As a goddess of wisdom, it was only natural. Yet for all her supposed wisdom, she was unable to convince her family to not tear itself apart. \n\nAthena's father and uncles had always possessed a less than ideal relationship, but their differences could always be settled with a bit of posturing and honey coated words to sooth their raging tempers. At the most extreme of cases, the Gods could look to a hero to settle what their patrons could not. Yet now, it seemed nothing but all out war could solve this conflict. The heroes of the gods, were slowly turning against them. Perhaps rightfully so. However, more division would not spare the lives of innocents, nor repair broken bonds. For the first time in her existence, Athena felt lost. She felt alone. It was a discomfort that she had largely ignored up until now. A discomfort she was ashamed for even feeling. \n\nA sudden quack would draw the Goddess from her thoughts, as a float of ducks came up to her expectantly. A small smile etched its way onto Athena's lips, as she tossed another piece of bread to her small companions. The hungry bird and it's kin gobbling the scraps up. \n\n||" }, { "author": " Eris ", "message": "The morning sun cast its golden rays upon the olive grove, the soft murmurs of scholars that had either not yet left for the summer or who didn't have a reason to leave. The clack of heels against the stone pathway echoed against the fountain as Eris walked towards the secluded grove. With each step she swayed her hips softly. A smile tugged at her lips in unequivocal satisfaction as voices hushed upon noticing her presence, their sense of perilous company quite impressive. \n\nThe world of academics had always intrigued her, the idea of fraternities and inflicting chaos on the world full of alcohol and bad decisions was like an adrenaline rush. In the past she had more fun watching as the mortals basked in her radiance, each one wanting a piece of her as if she were Aphrodite and could bestow a longing love unlike anything they had ever experienced. She almost gagged as she thought of their hopeless attempts, instead they fell into an abundance of conflict believing she gifted them love when it was really conflict. Even Athena's Academia wasn't safe from Eris' clutches. \n\nEris lifted the black glasses from her eyes, placing them upon the top of her head. The short skirt, black vest and suit jacket seemed to be a great idea before she felt the temperature of the sun upon her skin. She had taken advantage of the academic style despite her wanting to make this trip short. Her intentions only to provoke more of an action from the righteous goddess who only wanted *Peace*.\n\nEris rolled her eyes at the thought as she came to a standstill in the center of the grove square, her eyes roaming over the area before they found the goddess almost hidden beneath the trees. Athena always held a simplicity to her appearance and lifestyle. A woman who could be seen as beautiful to many but to Eris she was plain. Eris stepped off the path, her heels sinking into the cold semi-damp earth with each step as she approached the goddess. Her eyes finding the almost lax way she lounged against the tree and tossed bread to the ducks unsatisfactory. \"You do know bread isn't good for them?\"" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "A regal fortress that serves as the god's personal residence and command center. The citadel offers panoramic views of the surrounding oceanic landscape and acts as a beacon of divine power." }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "Poseidon's Citadel loomed like a colossal gem, its towering spires piercing the aquatic sky. This fortress, the personal residence and command center of the sea gods, was a physical representation of their divine authority and might. Built from stones mined from the ocean's darkest caverns, it stood powerfully against all opposing forces, unsinkable. Its grand halls and vast chambers were adorned with artifacts of ancient power and murals depicting legendary battles of the sea celebrating Poseidon's many victories. Deep within this magnificent stronghold was Triton's room, once a sanctuary of solitude for the young god. The room was spacious, with walls of pearlescent blue and floors inlaid with shells and pearls. The furniture was crafted from the finest driftwood, shaped by the currents into forms both strange and beautiful. Fitting, for the god of the sea. However, the once proud chamber had been transformed into a gilded cage. The door, a magnificent piece of craftsmanship featuring depictions of Triton's heroic deeds, had been unceremoniously removed. The doorway stood starkly empty, a constant reminder of his loss of privacy and dignity. The confiscation of his mighty trident, a symbol of his power and authority, further stripped him of his status, leaving behind a hollow echo of his former glory. He felt a shell of himself, stripped down by his mother and sister.\n\nTriton sat on his throne-like bed, brooding over his recent defeat. His gaze often drifted towards the open doorway with annoyance, a constant reminder of his family's mistrust. His room, once a place of comfort, now felt oppressive. Outside, the citadel continued its watch over the oceans, while inside, a fallen god nursed his wounds in forced isolation. The contrast between the citadel's grandeur and Triton's personal turmoil painted a picture of a hero reduced to a prisoner in his own home. Thinking about Esmeray making herself at home in *His* Home back in Poseidonia made his stomach twist into knots. Sighing, he stood from his bed and walked to the window, peering out over the vast, endless sea. The citadel was so large he could go weeks without seeing anyone unless they specifically sought him out. He'd tried to leave once, but his mother made sure the marine life obeyed her orders, especially the sharks and dolphins. Stymied, he retreated into his music and social media — anything to pass the time and keep his mind off of things. He was going to go crazy soon.\n\nNestled discreetly into the floor in the corner of his room, a natural hot tub bubbled invitingly. The tub itself was a masterful creation, a hollow carved directly into the ancient rock, lined with smooth stones that had been worn by centuries of currents. Its design was simple yet elegant, blending seamlessly with the surrounding environment as if it were a natural part of the ocean floor. The water within the tub was heated by geothermal vents hidden deep beneath the seabed. These vents, channels of the earth's fiery core, released heat that traveled up through fissures in the rock, warming the water naturally and continuously. The temperature was perfectly regulated by the intricate balance of the ocean's pressure and the earth's heat, providing a soothing, constant warmth that was ideal for relaxation.\n\nTriton slipped off his clothes and stepped in wearing nothing but a mankini. He lowered down until he was entirely submerged. This wasn't a problem, as he could breathe underwater. A few minutes passed, and when he finally came up he slicked his hair back and startled, seeing Esmeray standing over him with a smirk on her face.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Esmeray", "message": "\"I don't know what I am doing here...\" Esmeray mumbled as she walked down the winding halls of Poseidon's Citadel. The monstrously huge mansion was the last place she thought she would be but the invitation that was lifted to her by Amphrities hand was something she couldn't refuse. A peek into the world that Poseidon held behind the persona he had entangled in the worldly events was almost too enticing, especially paired with the ability to poke at Triton. Esmeray walked down the hall, keeping her footsteps light so as to not draw attention to herself. Though she was welcomed by her step mother, she had a feeling her father knew little about her visits to his property. \n\n\nThe map that Amphi had given her was somewhat confusing, the paper crumpled from the constant in and out of her pocket. The citadel was a circular maze and trying to decipher if she was going the right way or if she had, yet again, turned down the wrong hall was hard. In an earlier attempt to find Triton's room, she had accidentally found a pearlescent shrine to Poseidon. The endless statues and paintings of her father in the nude was not what she had expected to see and something about the finding both amused her and embarrassed her all at once. \n\nShe turned the map sideways, believing she could have possibly had it facing the wrong direction all along. She sighed as the beautiful calligraphy began to turn into gibberish.\n\n\"His room is right down this hall and to the left.\" Esmeray lifted her eyes to the voice. A small water nymph stood in all her glory, her beautiful black locks swaying as if she were still underwater. The unnatural blue tint to her skin and bright silver of her eyes left an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't used to seeing them without some sort of disguise and her beauty was breathtaking. \"Do not worry, I am one of Amphirite's.\" The nymph curtseyed quickly before throwing a sharp smile her way. Esmeray was sure her face told it all; her nervousness, her awe, and the slight trickle of fear at the thought that she was caught. \n\n\"Thank you?\" Esmeray's voice came out in a soft tone, the hint of confusion upon her lips. The nymph smiled yet again as she stepped closer and lifted her hand out to softly touch Esmeray's arm. Her hand was cold but smooth as she pulled Esmeray closer to her in both a seductive and possessive fashion. \n\n\"Serephina,\" The name came out of her mouth in a sultry and flirtatious manner. \"You know, you and your brother hold a lot of similarities.\" Esmeray kept her face straight, watching the woman carefully. She wasn't sure what the nymph was doing or if she thought comparing her and Triton would flatter her. \n\nEsmeray grabbed her hand and gently pushed her away. \"I'm not sure if that is supposed to be a compliment or an insult but either way thank you. I think I can manage to find his room from here,\" Esmeray bowed her head quickly to the nymph and scurried down the hall. Part of her wanted to turn back and look at the nymph once more, but the other part screamed not too.\n\n\"Let me know if I can be of any assistance,\" The seduction in her voice was evident, making her words show the hidden innuendo as they followed her down the hall. Esmeray shook off the feeling of unease as she continued to Triton's room. The trek was shorter than she thought and if she had only walked a short distance more she would have found the room without the help of the Nymph. \n\nThe room was far from the prison that Esmeray was expecting. Her mind had envisioned minimal furniture and bars over the windows with little to no work space but this room was a luxury. A vision for any couple on a romantic getaway or honeymoon. She wanted to laugh at Triton's predicament, already expecting him to be grumbling about how miserable he was because of her and Amphirite. While she did hold a little sympathy for him, it all flew out the window as her eyes roamed the room. \n\nEsmeray grabbed the backpack from her shoulder and let it fall to the ground with a small thud hoping to catch Triton's attention but there was no indication of his presence. She looked around, the soft sound of the jacuzzi catching her attention in the corner. She wanted to roll her eyes at the thought of the jacuzzi alone until she saw the blob of a man underneath the water. \n\n\"I don't want to hear one ounce of a complaint,\" She said aloud as she walked up close to the jacuzzi, looking down at Tri with a smirk on her face." }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "Triton lingered in the secluded warmth of the natural hot tub. The warm, geothermal-heated waters soothed his frayed nerves and provided a brief escape from the reality of his recent defeats. He had avoided thinking about what it would take to get Persephone to agree to lift the curse, but now, as his life fell apart around him, he had to consider his next move. As he settled deeper into the comforting embrace of the heated water, the unexpected sound of footsteps disrupted the tranquility. Triton's muscles tensed instantly; the steps were too light, too familiar. Without any preamble, Esmeray, his sister, strode into the room. Since she had used her dominion over plant life to bind him with vines and force his surrender, his confidence had taken a hit. Now, her arrival was a reminder of his vulnerability. Triton watched her cautiously from the tub, his cerulean eyes reflecting a mix of resentment and wariness. The past days had taught him the hard lesson of his sister's ruthlessness, and the memory of his own underestimation burned as sharply as salt in a fresh wound. Despite his indignation at her unannounced entrance and the smug look on her face, Triton knew that outright confrontation would be foolish. His sister had not only bested him but had done so under their mother's approving gaze, complicating the dynamics of power and family loyalty even further.\n\nAttempting to mask his discomfort, Triton gestured towards the steaming water of the hot tub with a forced smile that barely concealed his tension. \"Why don't you join me in the water?\" He suggested, his voice carefully modulated to sound inviting. It was a tactical move, meant to regain some control over the situation, even if it was as fleeting as the steam rising from the hot tub. They both knew his power increased tenfold in the water. Esmerays eyebrow lifts. \"I will not go anywhere near you in those...\" She points down at his speedo before quickly turning around and walking back towards the discarded bag. \"Besides... I don't want to be drowned today and I brought you gifts.\" Triton took the opportunity to emerge from the water, the liquid cascading off his godly form. Reaching for a towel woven from sea kelp, Triton began to dry himself. His movements were slow and deliberate, maintaining an air of calm composure despite the turmoil brewing inside him. Standing on the cool, damp stone, he wrapped the towel around his waist.\n\n\"A gift?\" He said, maintaining eye contact with a mix of cautious curiosity and an underlying resolve not to show weakness. His question hung in the air between them, charged with the unspoken history of recent conflicts. Triton knew he had to tread carefully, balancing his response to whatever motives brought her here. His position was precarious, caught between the desire to regain his status and the necessity of navigating the new dynamics imposed by his sister and their powerful mother. As he awaited her response, Triton's thoughts raced. He pondered over possible strategies to reclaim some of his lost dignity without escalating the tension. \"Mom removed the door. No privacy. Can you believe that?\"" }, { "author": "Esmeray", "message": "Esmeray met eyes with her brother as he emerged from the billowing water. His hair was pulled from his face as the damp water weighed it down against his shoulders. The water was moving, but Esmeray could still see the small blur of hot pink beneath the surface covering little to no skin. She rolled her eyes as he pointed at the water when he set his sights on her. \n\n\"Why don't you join me in the water?\" He suggested. Esmeray lifted her eyebrow at him. \n\n\"I will not go anywhere near you in those...\" She points down at his speedo before quickly turning around and walking back towards the discarded bag. \"Besides... I don't want to be drowned today and I brought you gifts.\" Esmeray squatted down next to the rather large bag, realizing her first attempt at filling a small backpack was a complete fool's errand as she unzipped one of the pockets. She had plans to dump the trash on his floor but the idea seemed silly now, especially as his words reached her ears. \n\n\"Mom removed the door. No privacy. Can you believe that?\" She zipped the pocket full of trash and opened the other side instead. Pulling out a couple of full beers and setting two to the side, a Playboy magazine and a small folded-up square of plastic. She stood and turned to him an ornery smile on her face as she pushed the third beer in his direction, keeping the other two items behind her back. \n\n\"I somehow am not at all surprised. Alright, I'm giving you the option. You can receive your other gifts before she gets here or you can react to them in front of all of us.\"" }, { "author": "metanoia11", "message": "Fluttering wings and a sudden out of place draft of frigid air marked the arrival of a particularly animated Goddess, with a thick, curly mane of dark hair fanning out around her head like fuzz on a dandelion, swaying in the breeze precariously. \n\nThe wind arrived before she did, blowing Esmeray's clothes and hair everywhere, and creating a thin but frigid layer of merciless frost on Triton's still damp skin.\n\n\"Esmeray!\" A cannonball of laughter and energy barreled into Esmeray from the side, honey-colored arms wrapped around her like a vice, and the smell of crisp and fresh wintry air invaded the room domineeringly. The preceding gust of wind ripped the hidden items from behind Esmeray and sent them through the air and across the room, _coincidentally_ slapping Triton's bare, frosty thigh with a resounding smack. \n\nThe culprit hardly glanced in his direction before looking back up at her sister with big and bright brown eyes and a cheerful smile. \"Hi!\" \n\nAges ago she'd already decided she liked this strong, stubborn sister of hers, deciding to cling to her until they became closer; it was the only way she knew how to get close. She was particularly physical with her affection—and her dislike. Regarding the Triton popsicle nearby, Aeolus decided not to pay him any mind. \n\n||" }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "Triton's eyes lit up at the sight of the beer and Playboy magazine. \"Hell yeah,\" He said, wasting no time in cracking open a cold one and flipping to the middle section of the magazine. \"Ah,\" Slurp, \"Miss. September. My favorite. Maybe you're not entirely useless, Esmeray,\" He added with a snicker. Their sibling rivalry had blossomed into a full blown war at this point. \"Just don't get too cozy in my house. I'll be back before you know it.\" He took another sip of beer, his brow arching at her guessing game. \"Two gifts, huh? Who?\" The answer was given before they could continue. Aeolus, their younger sister, preceded by a gust of wind, fluttered in, causing Triton to groan. They had been close before the curse, but ever since then she had been absolutely intolerable. He watched grimly as her and Esmeray exchanged affections as Aeolus sent a burst of frigid wind in his direction, freezing the the thin sheen of water still covering his body. \"Argh, fuck, watch it!\" He scowled, quickly using the towel to dry himself off completely. \n\nThe item behind Esmeray's back was a blowup doll with Nemesis' face. It stared up at him mockingly, and Triton's cheeks suddenly turned bright red. \"Oh ha, ha, very funny. Since when did you become such a bitch?\" It was a low blow, after all. He was still hurting from Nem dumping him, so this was salt in his open wound. Having had just about enough of his two younger sisters, Triton strode forward and began ushering them backwards, towards the exit. \"I don't recall inviting either of you here. Come on. Get out.\" He pried Aeolus from Esmeray, holding each woman by the arm and marching them to where his door would have been, had Amphitrite not removed it." }, { "author": "Esmeray", "message": "Esmeray couldn't help but smile as the gush of wind rushed against her. She didn't mind that her hair most likely looked a mess or that her gift for Triton was blown to the ground. She was delighted as the ball of energy came at her with the breeze wrapping her in a hug. Esmeray hugged her back as she laughed with joy at her sister's presence. \n\n\"You came a bit earlier than I expected but I'm glad nonetheless.\" She pulled the girl away from her so that she could take a look at her, as if she had changed in the few days she had last seen her. She ignored Triton as he complained about the frigid air that was most likely being blown his way. \n\nIt was when he bent down and picked up the small square of plastic that the smirk fell back onto her lips. She had meant it as a joke at first but the more she thought about Tritons predicament she had started to realize he probably secretly loved it which is why Nemesis' face was taped on last minute. \n\n\"Oh come on... I thought it was the perfect gift. Although, now that I see your door is gone, probably not.\" He grabbed both of their arms and marched towards the exit as if he could toss them and lock them out. Esmeray grabbed his hand and removed it from her arm, planting her feet against the ground. \"When did you become such a kill all?\"" }, { "author": "metanoia11", "message": "Aeolus smiled contentedly, her eyes curving into soft crescents. Her sister's unabashed fondness was what she looked forward to each time she visited. It felt comfortable and pleasant, like a bed made of Zephyr's soft and warm flowery mane. \n\nSo her displeasure was instantaneous when Triton dared interfere. The crisp air turned frigid in an instant. Where he touched her arm was particularly unforgiving, like a miniature storm raging around his fingers, freezing them stiff, and threatening to rip them apart. \n\nHer previously warm and lively eyes darkened, with an icy pale blue licking at the edges. She looked at Triton like she was looking at a pesky insect, and once her sister was free of his grip, a blast of wind blew his hand off of her own arm completely, pushing him across the room ruthlessly, leaving his body teetering on the edge of his tub. She smiled, but it was a chilling one different from her usual charming, friendly ones. \"I don't recall allowing you to touch me, _brother_,\" The final word was particularly sweet, yet poisonous, reminding Triton that the sister who followed him around happily, calling out his name with affection and admiration, was no more. Days when she would tackle him into smothering hugs, same as Esmeray, were gone. Now, he was less than even a pest in her eyes, simply an unwelcome inconvenience to her otherwise sunny reunion with Esmeray. As for this being his room? _He didn't have the right to own anything._\n\nAeolus turned her gaze back to Esmeray and the iciness instantly melted, replaced by affection and concern so swiftly that one half of the room was instantly warm and gentle, while the other still had lingering traces of frosty air. \"Are you okay, Esmeray?\" She asked softly, touching her sister's arm where Triton grabbed. \n\n||" }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "Triton looked increasingly flustered as he seethed inwardly. He wasn't sure how Persephone's curse worked, but the level of hostility towards him seemed to increase over time. Perhaps she knew it would eventually get so bad he'd have no other choice but to bend the knee to her. The thought made his stomach twist in knots, but he had to focus. The problem at hand right now were his sisters, who clearly delighted in these petty torments. Cooler heads may have prevailed if it weren't for the Nemesis blowup doll smirking at him, mocking his failings in the unique way that only she could. \n\nHe'd managed to get them to the open doorway, using his body to barricade them from re-entry. His body was cold, but his blood was running hot, his face still red from the most recent insult. He pulled his hand away quickly from Aeolus as the air grew frigid, making him wince. His eyes narrowed; whatever playful quality their banter had taken melted away, replaced by a more serious hostility. Then, a blast of wind sent him backward, until he heels hung over the edge of the hot tub. He held his arms out for balance, glaring at Aeolus from across the room. Ironically, his own powers were relatively useless in this setting, further frustrating him. One of the beer cans was on the floor near him. He picked it up and without hesitation launched it right at Aeolus' head, trying to ping it off of her dome and knock some sense into her.\n\n\"You're next if you don't get the hell out of here, Esmeray! And take your stupid blow up doll with you.\" Grabbing it off the bed, he strode across the room and shoved it into her, trying to knock her over in the process. Now would have been the perfect time to slam the door on them, of course, but Amphitrite had it removed, so instead he just kind of stomped back to his bed, removed his towel, and put on his jeans and t-shirt. \n\n||" }, { "author": "Esmeray", "message": "The soft unraveling of the little foliage that sat in the corners of Tritons room was almost natural, as if they were reacting to the situation and not calling to Esmeray. The short tempered anger that came from her sister almost took her by surprise but the sight of her brother at the edge of the pool made a laugh bubble up in amusement. \n\n\"I am fi-\" The words were barely out of her mouth with the beer can came flying at Aeolus. Esmeray put her own hands up in defense and a wall of vines quickly appeared in front of them both. The beer can bouncing off of it and falling to the ground in an exploding sticky mess. The vines dispersed as Triton came towards her, pushing the blow up Nemesis towards her. Esmeray stumbled backwards a bit but regained her composure once her back hit the door frame. \n\n\"Would you stop? What the hell is with you, Tri?\" Esmeray threw the doll at him as he dressed. \"First you try to attack me and your mom and now Aeolus. It's like you aren't even yourself anymore.\" Esmeray took a deep breath trying to contain her rage but she couldn't help the sharp anger. She reached her hands up as if to strangle him but thought better of it as the vines started to creep in his direction. She needed to control her anger before she took the whole citadel down with them inside.\n\nShe turned towards Aeolus, her beautiful sister. \"I swear if he gets any worse we'll have to convince Amphi to let us put him in the dungeon instead.\"" }, { "author": "metanoia11", "message": "Aeolus thought that Triton's tantrum wasn't worth paying attention to; instead, she thought Esmeray was particularly pleasing to the eyes as she displayed her instinctive protective side. The Wind Goddess smiled happily, enjoying the feeling of being cared for by her big sister. She would have been content to play the role of damsel a while longer—had Triton not laid hands on Esmeray. It didn't matter that she wasn't hurt, or that she was a demigod with superior constitution. \n\nA gust of wind blew Esmeray's hair across her face, coincidentally blocking her line of sight for a minute or so, blinding her to the happenings in Triton's room.\n\nOn the other hand, the Sea God was abruptly propelled off the floor by a powerful current of air, a miniature twister dancing around his face and swallowing up any sounds he made, silencing any protests. Like a whisper of death, Aeolus's voice reached Triton's ear directly, so Esmeray wouldn't overhear, \"_I've had enough of your man-baby tantrums, you overgrown fish_!\"\n\nHis body was pushed violently by the wind; right—left—above—and finally pressed to the floor as though weighed down by the boulder belonging to Sisyphus. His clothes disintegrated in the wind, then he was flipped back toward the tub, submerged ruthlessly before he had a chance to catch his breath. \n\nThe wind tore the water in the tub apart to reveal Triton's soaked head, before turning exceptionally frigid, almost instantly freezing the water around him, trapping him in a decidedly beautiful ice sculpture that resembled jagged flower petals. \"_Apologize to Esmeray or we'll learn if you can breathe through ice too, brother._\" Another whisper touched Triton's ear, sweet but venomous. \n\nThe wind in the room died down and freed Esmeray's hair from its airy entanglement, restoring her line of sight. Aeolus hugged her sister and looked up at her with a cheeky grin, \"No need for a dungeon, isn't this way better?\" \n\n||" }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "\"Don't gaslight me!\" He snarled at Esmeray, his eyes burning with intensity. \"*You're* The one who came in here to antagonize with me a blow up doll of my ex, who you know I still have feelings for. Always playing it innocent when you're nothing but an antagonist. And don't even get me started how you came pussyfooting around my house to try and get me to turn against dad under the guise of checking up on me. You wasted little time getting to your real agenda when you could clearly see I wasn't doing well. **Selfish**,\" He stated bluntly, \"And with daddy issues. You can get all the way the fuck out of my room.\"\n\nNo sooner had he said what he said when Aeolus unleashed her fury, sending cyclones of wind that hoisted him up into the air and bounced him off the ceiling and walls like a basketball, bonking his head and rattling his bones. It became so intense that it ripped his clothes right off, even his mankini, before she dunked him into the hot tub. Triton, discombobulated, struggled to gain his bearings as an icy wind was set upon him, parting the water just enough to free his head but cold enough to freeze the rest of it, locking him in place. He heard her voice in his ear and it made his blood boil. But what could he do? He was imprisoned in a block of ice, rendered totally helpless. He looked up at his sisters from his low vantage point, his eyeline at foot level. Triton let out a tortured cry of frustration, trying unsuccessfully to jerk his body back and forth. It was no use. He was trapped. Damn Persephone and damn her champion and damn this curse, he thought, feeling increasingly embittered.\n\nHe looked an utter fool, naked and frozen in the ice, his bright red face contorted in frustration. He let out an angry sigh and looked over at Esmeray. He knew what he had to do, even if it was through clenched teeth. \"I *Apologize*, Esmeray. My temper seems to have gotten the better of me again...\" He couldn't bear to meet Aeolus' gaze, not after this. Instead he lowered his eyes and just simmered in his anger and embarrassment, silently plotting revenge. She wouldn't get away with this, he told himself. She would pay for this humiliation. They all would. \n\n||" }, { "author": "Esmeray", "message": "The change was quick, the stark feel in the air from playful to hostile in a matter of moments. The wind came in like a tornado, never touching ground but stirring up all the air and debris around the room. Esmeray's hair went flying into her face, blinding her from seeing anything that may be happening, though she had a sneaky feeling that her sister's anger had come into play. When the wind finally settled Esmeray didn't know whether to be concerned for her sister's quick retaliation or laugh at her brother's frozen state. \n\nThe warm embrace of her sister hit her side once again. She smiled down at Aeolus before shaking her head. The next words from Triton's lip a seemingly unsolicited apology. Esmeray looked at her brother, the apology alot like the one his mother demanded from him. The words were yet again cold and distant, like he could be doing anything better than talking to her. \n\n\n\"To be frank, I came here to make peace but it seems as you do not want that. Your anger has gotten the best of you again and I would be careful,\" Esmeray walked towards Triton, crossing her arms as she settled in front of him and looking down, trying not to take into account his indecent exposure. \"...Hot tempers seem to run in the family. Do not underestimate us, brother. The doll and the beers were all in good fun but you seem to not believe in fun anymore. I do not know what crawled up your butt and died in there but you need to sort it out.\"\n\nEsmeray softly kicked at Triton, testing the hold of the ice against his body. Not able to tell how thick it was despite its hold on him. She squatted down next to him, the floor lighty quaking as her hand touched the ground. Her greenish blue eyes met his in a new determination. \"I never wanted your house. I never wanted you to suffer. What I wanted, and now what I demand is your help. I have had enough with your attitude, your negative disposition and your entitlement. You will no longer treat me or Aeolus like your baby sisters but as your equals. Do you hear me? It's time you stop crying about your woes and do something about it.\"" }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "As Triton hung there, suspended in ice, with only his head free, he watched and listened to the sisterly display of affection taking place above him. It was an apt metaphor for everything this curse had brought down on him, especially his own response to it leading him to be cold, lonely, and isolated. Had Persephone known? Or did her curse work out even better than she could have imagined? \n\n\"I am my father's son,\" He said up to Esmeray, his eyes turning stormy like the waves he commanded. \"What you call good fun, I call rubbing salt into my open wounds. I wish you would not play innocent. Either own your behavior for what it is, or apologize.\" It was a little odd having this argument with her being frozen naked in a hot tub of ice, but when you're surrounded by gods, life tends to present all kinds of unusual predicaments. What Esmeray did not yet know was that due to the geothermal vents producing heat from the earth's inner core, the ice in the hot tub was already beginning to soften, beginning to melt. Aeolus would have had to keep up the cold wind non-stop to maintain the prison she had created. \n\nHe flinched when she kicked at him, her boot right at eye level, then watched as she squatted down in front of him. Eyebrows rose when the floor began to quake lightly, a not so subtle demonstration from his sister that she had powers she had not yet used against him. Then, he listened. Really listened. His jaw set and his gaze hardened, but he also nodded and said, \"Very well, Esmeray. Equals. But I am not yet set on the path I'll choose to take in this war.\" The ice, having gotten sufficiently soft, could no longer hold him. He suddenly leapt from the pool, naked as the day he was born, and swiped his towel from the floor, wrapping is back around his waist. He was shivering badly, and his skin had a slight blue tinge to it. He sat on the edge of the bed, teeth chattering, head down. \"It's so cold,\" He whispered, almost more to himself than to either of them." }, { "author": "metanoia11", "message": "Aeolus clung to Esmeray, seemingly indifferent to the conversation, yet a slight, disdainful curve of her lips betrayed her attention to the ongoing subject. She felt that Triton's grievances were inconsequential, unable to understand his fixation on his so-called pain and humiliation. Was it not just a relationship? An abode easily replaced? Through her avians, she'd seen humans go through far worse; even she herself lived at the mercy of others for ages. Only now had her mighty brother faced a setback after a lifetime of living proudly, yet he already couldn't handle it. With her head buried in Esmeray's shoulder, her lips parted and another targeted whisper touched the shivering God's ears, in a playful singsong tone mired in derision, _\"Weak~\"_ \n\nWith a wave of her hand, a warm summer breeze brushed Triton's body, giving a feeling like sitting beneath a hot hairdryer. It wasn't because she was pleased with his apology or felt sorry for him, it was solely because she enjoyed it—her father's son at her mercy, like she used to be at his and her uncle's. It felt thrilling, momentarily filling the emptiness that always seemed to linger in her hollow life. Then the fleeting fulfillment dissipated and she suddenly felt bored of it all. Tugging at Emseray's arm, she looked up at her with a guileless, cheerful smile. \"Was that everything, Esmeray? Can we go have fun now?\" Her brown eyes twinkled with unrestrained anticipation, disarming any who saw her, giving the illusion of a harmless, happy golden retriever. \n\n||" }, { "author": "Esmeray", "message": "\"And here I thought you liked salt.\" Esmeray tilted her head, unable to contain finding some sort of reprieve from the seriousness of the moment. Her life lately had overflowed with arduous situations and even with the small tiffs of fun it was hard to look past them. \n\n\"It's when we take our fathers afflictions and make them our own that I worry.\" Esmeray's retort to Triton claiming he was his fathers son was just another excuse she did not want to listen to. The justifications were all the same but they never rightfully explained his actions. She stood, taking a few steps back as she watched him carefully. Aeolus quickly clinging to her side yet again. She smiled faintly and hugged her in return, her eyes returning to her now clothed brother. \" I will give you a week to make a decision. I will be keeping your trident until you make a decision and for your own sake Triton, it better be the right one. \" \n\nThe warmth of summer air coated the room, finally providing Triton with a bit of comfort. Aeolus left Esmerays side and began to tug her towards the door. Esmeray laughed and let Aeolus pull her closer. She wrapped her arm around her little sisters shoulders before pausing to look over her shoulder at their brother. \"One week, Tri. I don't want to have to torture you but I will if I must.\"" }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "Triton's eyes narrowed at Aeolus' whispered words drifting through the air to his ear for only him to hear. He was in no position to dispute her claim though, and instead tried to enjoy the warm summer breeze she sent his way to dry him off. It was annoying being so at the mercy of her incredible power, but he was nevertheless grateful to not be so cold anymore. \n\nBy now he was ready for both of them to leave. He had suffered his indignities and just wanted to be left alone to lick his wounds. But Esmeray had other ideas, other *Expectations*. He watched her and Aeolus embrace, the shared affection between them on full display. He felt a twinge of jealous deep inside, but it never registered on the surface for them to detect. \n\nHe hated being backed into a corner, so when Esmeray made her demands he found himself rising from the bed and turning his shoulders to face them. \"I do not like ultimatums, sister. What you ask for is no little thing, and if we're honest, our father's wrath would be much greater than your own. That said, I view him even less favorably than I view you.\" He walked toward them slowly, not in a threatening manner, but simply to show them he was not backing down. \"I will have your answer in a week on the condition that you return my trident now. Immediately. It is not yours to keep. Meet me halfway, and I will comply with your wishes.\"" }, { "author": "metanoia11", "message": "Antagonistic as she was toward her brother, Aeolus couldn't help giving him a second glance once he voiced his dissatisfaction toward their callous father, her brown eyes alight with approval. Maybe this brother of hers wasn't so useless after all. Then he opened his mouth again and her fingers twitched with the urge to slam him against just _one_ more wall before they left. \n\nA dangerous chill crept over Triton's skin as the air around him subtly stirred, felt only by him. In the end, Aeolus held back. With Triton being so civil, she had no justifiable excuse to act upon. She glanced at Esmeray at her side and pursed her lips with a little bit of unhappiness, feeling like her elder sister was too soft on their aggravating brother. Her eyes fell on Triton as he approached, negotiating his terms with Esmeray, while Aeolus herself remained silent, a thoughtful look on her face. Triton could feel her stare hovering over him with devious calculation, and when their eyes met, Aeolus smiled, her eyes bright. She waited until Esmeray and Triton dealt with their terms before speaking, \"In the meantime, you'll accompany me out, right, _brother_?\" \n\n_\"Or I'll send your Trident into space.\"_ Her voice traveled directly to Triton once more, dripping in sweetness yet filled with malice. Maybe she couldn't be as she truly was in front of Esmeray, but Triton didn't matter, so she didn't need to mind herself so much in front of him. It was the perfect chance to let loose a little bit and who better to chaperone than a brother who could only be at her mercy?\n\n||" }, { "author": "Esmeray", "message": "Esmeray noted the slight bitterness that sat in the room. Between the three siblings they could all claim to share the brutality of their father in various increments. As Es watched Triton and Aeolus she realized she may have received the lesser of the three, her mortality taking a presence where their divinity stayed intact. They were more of their father than she, but at the same time she knew she wasn't far behind. Her morals and whims changed to demand order and safety. \n\n\"Then you will have to make an exception. I will not just hand you the trident back and watch as you continue to do what you are doing. This was not a request. I am no longer the weak demigod sibling you once knew. Just as you are no longer the Triton I once knew.\" She turned away from him walking towards the doorway as Aeolus stepped toward Triton. \"Father does not have to know. I will give you more instruction when you accept my terms.\" \n\nEsmeray picked up the bag from the floor as Aeolus spoke, her foot stepping on the blow up doll that had found itself laying on the floor staring daggers at Triton. It was no longer as funny as she had initially planned. Her brother's inability to take a joke caused strife instead. She sighed before grabbing her knife from its sheath on her thigh and threw it at the doll. If Triton did not want fun, she was not going to let him have it. She quickly pulled the knife from the doll whispering a sorry to Nemesis before she walked out of the room." }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "Triton's gaze darted to Aeolus nervously, aware now more than ever of how effective her powers were against him. It was odd to be a god and yet feel so helpless. She, more than anything else, kept him from lashing out again. As that cold chill crept back over him he looked down, his jaw tensing. For the first time maybe ever Triton seemed cowed. Gone was the bravado, the arrogance. He seemed... Defeated in some way. Swallowing, he nodded his head and replied, \"Yes, Aeolus, whatever you say...\" He felt his face growing red, causing him to turn away before they could see. He walked back to his desk and took a seat, trying to regain his composure, even as Aeolus continued to whisper her threats into his ear.\n\n\"Your terms...\" He began glancing now to Esmeray. \"Great. Can't wait. I just have to betray my father if I want my trident back. I ought to bash your head in, but then I'd never see my prized possession again.\" He tapped his fingers against the surface of his desk, visibly irritated now but without any recourse. \"Just remember, you're not the only one with leverage here. Nothing is stopping me from telling Poseidon of your treachery.\" Perhaps it was time to play that card. It seemed to be the only way he could stand against the combined power of his sister. \"For now, I shall stay my hand.\"\n\nHe watched glumly as she popped the blowup doll she had delivered, shaking his head. What a waste. A cold silence then fell over the room as she walked out of the room. His eyes remained on her, even as she made her way down the hall. It all felt unfinished, tension still lingering in the air.\n\n||" }, { "author": "metanoia11", "message": "Aeolus didn't cling to Esmeray for once, letting her sister leave while she herself fixed another thoughtful stare on Triton's retreating back. Her lips formed a flat, straight line, missing their usually cheerful quirk. Her moods as fickle as the weather, she suddenly found herself bored, even mildly displeased at his lack of fight. Why did it feel like her useless big brother was becoming more useless by the day? \n\nShe didn't find it enjoyable. In fact, it left her feeling irritated. A part of her felt that he shouldn't be this way—the other was disgusted by it. \"Hey, Esmeray,\" She called out to her sister softly, \"How about I join you and the others later, okay? There's something I'd like to do first with brother.\" She turned and gave her sister a sweet smile before turning back to her brother, approaching him with deceptively soft steps that didn't match the cold, hard glare of her eyes fixed on him. \n\n||" }, { "author": "Esmeray", "message": "There was a moment in time she would have agreed to hand over the trident. A moment in where he brother could simply ask and she would comply with everything he wanted but as her strength and power grew she felt as though it would stay in the past. Esmeray's chance of making a difference in this war taking a strong forefront. She heard the words that Triton spoke knowing that she had already admitted to their father of her placement in this war. She wasn't like her siblings. She wouldn't just fall at his feet and conform to his will because he held half her DNA. Not when that was all he ever gave her. \n\nEsmeray paused in the hall, looking back at her sister who stood between the two of them. The sweet quiet voice matched the beautiful smile that was bestowed upon her face for Es. \n\n\"Just come by whenever you are done. We have much to discuss.\" She looked past her sister, at Triton before returning her gaze to Aeolus and offering her a smile in return. \"Do not give him too much hell. I don't need him showing up to our meeting as a popsicle.\" \n\nEsmeray walked away, planning on escaping the Citadel before anyone else saw her." }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "Triton's sulking could only last so long when Aeolus approached him like some kind of big cat predator eyeballing her prey with that cold glare. She had given him an education as far we how effective her powers were, putting him on notice. He sat up straight and then stood up, taking a step back. \"What are you doing?\" He said, really wishing he had his trident right about now. He didn't want to get bounced off the ceiling again. Unfortunately for Triton there was nowhere to hide in his room which was big and comfortable but simple in design. \"Look, I don't want to fight anymore, okay? I agreed to Esmeray's terms. There's no need for you to stay behind. You've done enough.\" He took a chance now by stepping forward, arms outstretched like he wanted to make peace, and started to try and gently guide her back around toward the door. \"Besides, she may need your help getting out of the citadel unseen. Can't have any of Poseidon's spy see her and report back to daddy, right?\"\n\n||" }, { "author": "metanoia11", "message": "Aeolus only giggled quietly in response to Esmeray's request to not freeze their unworthy brother. Any words spoken to the contrary would have been a blatant lie after all. \n\nShe waited until Esmeray's footsteps receded far away, her breath disappearing from the room, watching Triton plead his case with a tilt to her head, her lips quirked in a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Her face was the perfect picture of an avid listener, but everything he spouted slipped into one ear and out the other, leaving behind only a lingering amusement for his younger sister who found his attempts a sad sight to behold. \"Fight? When did we fight, brother?\" Her head tilted the other way, like she was examining a strange specimen on display, a touch of ridicule swimming in her big brown eyes, at odds with the obedient, angelic posture she often took in front of others. Aeolus straightened up and stepped toward Triton, each step accompanied by an unforgiving burst of wind that slammed against Triton, pushing him back step by step until he was pressed against the wall. It was like an invisible wall existed between him and his sister, one he couldn't hope to bypass unless she _let_ him, even when she stood mere inches away. \n\nHer eyes narrowed on him. \"Using your father against me?\" She sneered harshly, aggravated by any mention of their father, refusing to acknowledge any part of him same as he never acknowledged her, his daughter.\n`\n\n\"Are you that ignorant or just pretending to be?\" She questioned icily, before her words softened with a proud tone that boasted her sister's abilities, \"Besides, we both know Esmeray can take care of herself. And we also both know that you're the most arrogant of us all. So why, pray tell, did you submit so easily?\" The force of the wind pressing against Triton wasn't as harsh as the one that tossed him around, yet the threat remained—if he couldn't convince Aeolus, she wouldn't hesitate to repeat their earlier 'friendly' exchange. \"Tell me, brother, since when are you so easy to talk to? What are you plotting in that waterlogged brain of yours?\" \n||" }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "Aeolus reminded Triton of a bird of prey, her cold eyes reflecting his own fear back onto him. Yes, she was affectionate towards those she cared for, almost childlike, but to her perceived prey she was an apex predator. It was a side of her he had never seen before, now unleashed by Persephone's curse. Never did he appreciate her powers until he was on the receiving end of them. Suddenly her fury was upon him once again, each gust of angry wind more powerful than the last, blowing him back, back, back up against the wall once more. The gale knocked over most of th belongings in his room. He squinted his eyes against the cold air, his hair billowing all around him. \"Aeolus, *Please!*\" He said, though he wasn't quite sure what he was even pleading for.\n\n\"I have not submitted,\" He shot back, his eyes flashing angrily. \"I am merely trying to make peace with the situation. You do not know what you do not know, sister. Give me a moment's peace and let me recover myself.\" He tried to pull himself from the wall, like scraping an egg from a sizzling hot pan, but it was useless — she had him pinned. Triton let out a groan of frustration, this towering figure of a god made to look weak by a woman much smaller than himself. It was maddening, but on dryland the advantage was hers. \"Yes, Esmeray can take care of herself. She doesn't need you to be her enforcer.\"" }, { "author": "metanoia11", "message": "Aeolus truly matched the nature of the wind, her whims and wants no less unpredictable. What was an imminent storm before suddenly became unnaturally forgiving, allowing Triton a reprieve, the wind becoming warmer and swirling around him idly rather than oppressively.\n\nShe didn't say it aloud but there was unmistakeable satisfaction dancing in her expressive brown eyes. It seemed like her thoughts and feelings toward Triton were in constant contradiction. She couldn't stand the idea that he might submit easily and cut off her justification for retaliation, yet, she also couldn't stand the sight of him boldly challenging the sister she'd chosen as her favorite. _It was a twisted sentiment that would give Triton no peace in the coming days._ \n\nHer erratic mood soothed by his words and attitude, Aeolus took a leisurely seat on the edge of Triton's bed and propped her chin up with her palm, looking at him with the look of someone casually watching a show, \"So, what is it that I 'do not know that I do not know'?\" She questioned with interest, like suddenly finding a new toy to play with, mocking his arrogant words yet also genuinely curious. \"What ambitions are you hiding beneath that pathetic façade, brother?\" \n\nShe spoke so lightly, it was like the one who'd just been so menacing was not her but someone else. \n\n||" }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "The warm air that swirled around him was a pleasant reprieve, but he knew it could change with her mood. He walked before her calmly, assessing her anew; Triton was dealing with a socially stunted, emotionally under-developed goddess, impetuous and wrathful. Her power unnerved him, and she seemed unreachable in a certain sense... Perhaps she had closed herself off to him. He stood now in front of her, the bubbling pool of water directly behind him. He crossed his arms and thought about how best to say this.\n\n\"Things have transpired that have an impact on the present. I can't get into anymore specifics right now. As a rule you should always be aware that there is more going on than what presents itself on the surface. You would be wise to show more prudence than you currently do.\" With that gentle, big-brotherly scolding, Triton smiled and took a step backwards, dropping into the water. The seconds ticked by and he did not surface. Connected as it was to heated ocean vents, Triton would be able to swim directly from his bedroom hot tub out into the greater ocean, beneath the towering Citadel in which she sat. After a minute or two it would be clear he had no intention of returning, and she would be left to sit alone in his bedroom with his final parting words lingering in the air." }, { "author": "metanoia11", "message": "\"You're irritating,\" Aeolus bit out in a blunt tone that hid none of the aforementioned irritation. There was something about unfinished stories that was utterly offensive to her. If one was going to say something then why not say the whole thing right then and there? Why hem and haw, and act all mysterious? \n\nThe Wind Goddess clicked her tongue as she glared at Triton's retreating figure. The air in the room chilled but she didn't take further action, aware that more pressing issues awaited her elsewhere. \n\nIt seemed to her that Triton had nothing of substance to offer and clearly nothing going on in the space between his ears, only capable of acting cool and hiding like one of his slimy shelled creatures of the sea. She felt like a fool for suspecting that he had some grand plan. Even if he did, what could he actually do when he couldn't even best his baby sister?\n\nShe scoffed when she realized he had truly fled, purposely blasting air around his already messy dwelling. When she was satisfied with the petty mayhem she'd invoked, she smiled and let out a gentle whistle. \n\nThere was a quiet whisper of wind, and a brown horse appeared, decorated by flowers and leaves in his mane. Aeolus floated upward softly and gently settled on his back, the very picture of laziness as she lay there bonelessly. A soft neigh echoed in Triton's room and the scent of flowers became more pronounced for a moment, then the messy room was suddenly empty. \n\nA red flower lay quietly, petals shredded and crushed against the floor by powerful hooves, leaving a shocking red stain like a bloody warning left behind for Triton." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "Dedicated to the titaness Rhea, the Rhea Gardens feature lush flora, serene water features, and statues honoring the nurturing and protective aspects of the titaness. The gardens serve as a tranquil retreat, inviting gods to connect with the natural world and reflect on the enduring legacy of the titans." }, { "author": "Themis", "message": "⚖️ **Lady Themis** ⚖️\n⚖️ **The Goddess of Justice** ⚖️
\n\n⚖️ **Rhea Gardens** ⚖️\n⚖️ **Advice For A Niece** ⚖️
\n\n*The Rhea Gardens.*

\n\n*One of the only places within the mortal city of Olympian that was solely dedicated to her kind. Ironic given the nature of the city's origin and for who the places within the city were dedicated towards. Perhaps in a different life it would have been the central park for the city of Othyrian, named after her ancestral home of course. Regardless, here it stood, a beacon of innovation and technology for the people of the city, and one of the only places that Themis frequently visited when she decided to descend to the mortal realm. Yet, this was no ordinary visit, this time she came with a purpose, a meeting with someone she hadn't spoken to in quite some time.*

\n\n*To the mortals traversing the garden, they were none the wiser when it came to the knowledge of who actually walked alongside them. To them, she seemed to be an ordinary old woman, while in actuality she was one of the oldest beings still alive in the immortal realms. Themis, like most of the gods, had shed her divine form upon entering the mortal realm, walking the cobblestone paths of the garden in the form of a king old woman with a blindfold wrapped around her head, a white cane leading the way forward. Although of course that was only the disguise of her sword, the Sword of Justice. It was her trademark, one of her symbols of power, and she was almost never without it.*\n** **\n\n*Themis would continue along the path at a leisurely pace, tapping the ground in front of her with each step and nodding politely to those that she passed. Although the mortals didn't know it, she actually could see perfectly despite the blindfold covering her eyes. It was more a figment of her power rather than an actual object, a second skin that while being something physical, wasn't actually there. Naturally, the actual essence of it was far more complicated than it needed to be, but it was tied to her very being so even if no one else understood it, at least she did. Regardless, after several minutes of walking Themis would finally come to her destination.*\n\n*Themis would walk up to the statue of Rhea and stare up at it with an emotionless expression. It was an old statue, the base of it covered in growing moss and vines while its color had been greatly saturated. It was reminiscent of the former Titan Queen in her prime, young and beautiful. She was someone else that Themis hadn't spoken to in quite some time, not that they had anything to speak about of course. The relationship with her siblings was... Lacking to say the least. Even to those that sided with Zeus she still hardly had a relationship with them, but still. They were family and Rhea had been one of the more tolerable of the bunch.*\n\n*Tapping the cane in her hand on the ground, Themis would look around for a nearby bench and go to take a seat, crossing her legs together and setting the cane up against the bench. It seemed as if she had gotten to the gardens before her companion. She had been surprised when she received the message that Demeter had wanted to meet. Out of all of the Olympians and Gods in general, she was one of the few that Themis had an actual soft spot for. The Goddess reminded her of her mother, especially after Persephone had been taken into the Underworld and she showed both sides of nature to the world. The kind and gentle summer, and the cruel and unforgiving winter.*\n** **\n\n*Themis would interlock her fingers and place her hands gently on her lap, glancing up at the sunny sky before drawing her gaze back to the gardens around her. She was in no rush for Demeter's arrival, or for this meeting to be over and done with. As such, she would simply wait patiently for her niece to arrive.*\n\n||" }, { "author": "Demeter", "message": "☭ 𝘓𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯: Rhea's Gardens \n☭ 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴: Demeter and Themis\n☭ 𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘨: \n☭ 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬: Reflection by Sufjan Stevens, Timo Andres, Conor Hanick\n☭ 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴: Sorry it's rough. I stayed up late trying to finish it. 🙃\n\n_ _\n\nThere was elegance in the way mortals placed monuments, places of worship for those who believed they held impartiality towards divine beings. Many Titans had long been forgotten, having unwillingly perceived Cronus as their rapporteur for judgment. A sentence far beyond their control. Rheas Gardens, though beautiful, were one of the only true memorials left. The written history was hardly a remembrance of what came before the Olympians, only infamous stories left in place of the good. Demeter had always made sure the memorial was rightfully taken care of in honor of her mother, letting the greenery and flowers have extra time before the harsh winters left it cold and barren. \n\nDespite the upkeep, the tranquility of the gardens was disturbed by the presence of the earth goddess; unwillingly affected by her capricious nature and demur decisions. When she entered the garden she felt the earth react as if it missed her touch. The lush greenery extended in empathy toward the stress that she held within her bones. Demeter took a deep breath before she stuck her hands in her pockets, withdrawing them from their abilities. It was only a temporary respite to the lack of control she had so indignantly processed as of late. She assumed the spiraling downfall her life had taken would right itself but as she stood in the gardens having sought the advice of her Aunt she wondered if she would meet her end before finding peace. \n\nDemeter began to walk, ignoring the patrons of the garden as she looked for the familiarity of Themis. In the past, she may have been more warm with the mortals. A soft smile or nod of her head in simple greeting but her heart had since grown cold. A response to the disgruntled feelings of her children and a war that had begun with rivalry. Mortal's had fallen to the very depths of her thoughts now, their problems minuscule in comparison.\n\nThe sidewalk ended. Rhea's statue stood before Demeter; its shadow cast over her like an omen she had yet to know the meaning of. Themis' presence was heavy despite Demeter not yet laying her eyes on the titaness. While she would presumably never be seen by a mortal, the power that she still held within an outwardly decrepit body seeped into the earth like a never-ending spring. \n\n\"I asked her once if she would do it all again, knowing the outcome.\" She spoke as she turned to Themis. The woman's features were serene regardless of the silk that covered her eyes. The cloth was a subtle reminder of the unbiasedness of Themis' judgment, the true ability to see people without showing bias. Demeter never understood the rationality behind it. The Olympians and even the Titans rarely showed favoritism to someone based solely on their beauty and if they did it ended in tragedy. \"She told me no and as much as I wanted to argue her answer then, I can see why now.\" \n\nShe stepped closer to the older woman, now standing before her." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "Surrounding the Atlas Observatory is the Titan's Respite Park, a sprawling green space adorned with statues and monuments depicting the titan Atlas and other legendary titans. The park provides a serene environment for contemplation, relaxation, and connecting with the enduring spirit of the titans." }, { "author": "Aether!", "message": "Aether wished he came here more often, but even after the thousands of years passed, the statues in memory of the Titans always hit him. \n\nThat night, he couldn't sleep, and he needed room to breathe. \nNot in the sense of Hemera having any fault, but rather, to free himself from his perch on the end of the bed. He would look at the corner of the wall, able to see both of the door and the tower window in his peripheral and wait until his mind could no longer take the deafening silence or his need to sob.\n\nThe God of Light was nothing but a flicker in the blanket of his mother's embrace - Nyx. It was comforting, and his eyes found themselves staring at the night and the array of the cosmos beyond. \nHis hand rested on Gaia's statue, wishing he could feel her energy again. \nHis gaze fell from the sky to her face. It was all he had left of his children, even if the statues never thoroughly caught their nuance.\n\nAether wrapped his arms around her skirt, cold and stiff and pressed his forehead to the cement. \nFinally, he felt the lock come off the well of his emotions and tears poured down his cheeks. \n\n**\"What I wouldn't give to see you- what your mom wouldn't give. We miss you so much- Our greatest gifts. You should see your siblings- you would love them. They connect our planes like we've always dreamed.\"** \n\nDespite his tears, his voice was certain- he was sad and full of love simultaneously. Mourning, and celebrating all at once! \nAether found calm in being able to hold both of anything; life and death werw a natural cycle, one he accepted, even if it hurt. \n\nThe God rubbed his face on the stone, scraping his cheek and sniffling. \nHe used his arm for the second attempt of trying to wipe the tears away. He needed this now so he could go back to Hemera with a clear mind, and a better mood. She deserved to wake up happy, and he would see to it.\n\nSighing, he rested his chin against the statue and looked at the stars again, appreciating all the hardwork every God was doing. They were still doing their part regardless of the war. That took dedication.\n\n**\"We don't have to fight like this...\"** He muttered, to no one in particular. He was tired, even if he knew the war wouldn't stop just because he wished it would." }, { "author": "Boreas, the North Wind", "message": "Olympian was a terrible place. It was full of arrogant people, both divine and none, and seemed to be accumulate within itself the very finest examples of why Boreas typically avoided places of high population. Long lines for everything, from a counter at a simple café to something necessary like the hospital; traffic that seemed to stand still for hours before properly moving and people that let that fact get to them as if it were a personal affront to their family and their bloodline. A million inconveniences and annoyances that just build and build and build. It used to be that he could handle it... By fighting. Stalking his way to the front of a line, blowing through the crowds, ignoring everyone else. Taking what he wanted and destroying whatever stood in his way.\n\nBut he couldn't now. He had to try to be better, to best those more impatient impulses. To stand in line for coffee, scowl etched deep on face. To suffer the slings and arrows of a thousand insults levied his way by the normal populace who had no idea who he was, that risked reprisal from the North Wind, a god so tantamount to destruction that he was utilized in an allegory for the benefits of gentleness and kindness instead of cruelty. Fuck whoever thought that Helios was kinder than him... That idiot couldn't get his head out of his own ass long enough to tell which way was north and which was south to save his life.\n\nAll of those things were important to avoid, given the situation at large in the world. Gods fighting one another again, in a way that hadn't been seen since the Titanomachy. A terrifying and destructive ten-year conflict that saw the very fabric of existence fighting against itself. Boreas could still remember the swords which caused his scars and the battles that laid low mountains, toppled oceans, subdued the very earth and sky to the will of the Gods. It had been... Terrifying. And the concept that he would have to join a side, either Poseidon or Zeus, both men whom he hated almost to his core for their arrogant treatment of not only their own family but the humanity they purported to rule, it tore him apart inside.\n\nBoreas had his rivals, he had his enemies, and he especially had his *Brothers*... But to forced by the ambition of foolish men to not stop there at his past? To move forward into the future and fight his enemies' children until a line of gods was eliminated? It terrified him to his core. He had seen the pain that the Titanomachy had wrought and he was desperate to avoid it. Which was why he was on his best behavior.\n\nBehavior that required much effort. The kind of effort that had him walking through the night rather than sleeping, trying to have his mind settle from the worry and anger of the day. Normally, he would walk in the Boreal Groves to the north, but with Pan's nymphs and dryads having discovered the land, he was uncertain that it was anything close to relaxing for him now. Who knew when one of those sneaks would jump out of a tree and challenge him to some sort of... Of game!? That foolishness is not what he needed currently.\n\nSo he found somewhere that was in theme to his musings recently. Titan's Respite, the memorial park dedicated to those who fell during the war. Those that are now never forgotten, that were dreaded enemies in the fighting but after thousands of years of separation just felt like... Lost family. Tragedies in the form of husbands and wives, brothers and sisters...\n\nSons and daughters.\n\nHe had been walking for nearly an hour down the paths, looking at the faces of men and women that he'd personally fought. Some that he might have been the final blow for in the chaos of ancient battles. And after that amount of time, that was when he'd seen him... Glowing slightly, like a weak star had fallen to earth, and laid itself along the skirt of Gaia. Aether was here, one of the few that had been there since the beginning and felt most harshly the stinging curse of war. And one that had been... Close... At one time, to perhaps understanding the North Wind.\n\nStepping quietly, as he had always been able to move as silently as the wind when he wanted, the man moved in closer to where his former acquaintance was mourning. He never got closer than three yards, before sitting down on a bench and crossing one leg over the other, watching. Waiting for the tears to subside just a little, for his sobbing to come under control. Before finally speaking.\n\n\"It's dangerous to be out this late.\" The North Wind almost grumble, his low voice easy to hear in the sable cover of Nyx that night, but would easily have been lost in the wind during the day. He was wearing a weathered, dark brown leather jacket over a black cotton t-shirt, simple dark blue jeans... And iron-toed boots that seemed to be slightly damp, like they had been trudging through snow. Even through the night, his bright steely eyes were clear and set unwaveringly on Aether." }, { "author": "Aether!", "message": "Aether let himself stew in the sadness just a little longer, before retracting his arms from the statue and letting out a relieved sigh. \nA voice that struck a chord of both anxiety and familiarity thrummed through him. \n\n*It's dangerous to be out this late..* \nThe chilled voice reached out to him with a gentle breeze. He hadn't expected for anyone else to be here at this hour, and tapped a finger against the stone base like a kid who had got caught with something that wasn't his. Though, he was allowed to be here, and he knew that. \n\nNibbling his lip, he filtered through his emotions, and finally turned.\nAether's gaze fell on to Boreas, sitting on the bench. His heart skipped and his palms suddenly went clammy at the flurry of emotions that blew through him. \n\n**\"Dangerous?\"** \nAether gave a little smile.\n**\"If anyone is willing to attack me while I'm mourning, it's a fool's illusion of an opportunity..\"** \n\nThe God of Light may have been a bit air headed at times, but he could focus when it was time to be serious. His youthful appearance only eluded to the fact that he was a Primordial God, exceptionally powerful in his own right.\n\n**\"I'm sorry you had to see me like that friend...\"** He started, leaning against the statue and folding his hands over his abdomen. \nAether wasn't actually sorry for crying, but he was a little embarrassed that this was the circumstances that they were meeting under again. On the other hand though, Boreas wasn't always good with expressing fondness. Perhaps... Even after all this time, it was a way to let Aether know he\n\nWasn't alone?\n\n**\"It's good to see you, however. It's been awhile, though... You must have gone into hiding. Has the mortal realm been treating you well?\"**\n\nHe studied the other God, noting that the last time he saw him... They were still in ancient Greece, and it was strange to see Boreas in modern clothing, being such a stark contrast to his memory of him.\nAether was in a basic white tanktop, light blue demin jeans and some white tennis shoes. Nothing as fancy as Boreas looked like he was wearing." }, { "author": "Boreas, the North Wind", "message": "For a good moment, Boreas thought that he was going to have to defend himself. Whether it would be verbally or physically was the only real question in his mind, the hesitation that Aether displayed before turning around setting the old warrior on edge almost instantly. They hadn't ended their previous arrangement on a happy note, at least not in Boreas's mind, and the possibility that the older god still harbored resentment for that was incredibly present in his mind.\n\nAnd then, as soon as he did turn around, it was like a light had turned on in front of the North Wind. Nothing like a spotlight, or the light of the sun, but a simple streetlight. The smallest smile, and yet it had massive effects to the place around them... Quite literally, things brightened. And his combat-oriented mind noticed how those palms turned away, like they were trying to hide something, before nervously associating together in front of the other man's stomach.\n\nNow was not the time, however, for focusing on Aether's body, no matter how good the other man might have looked in that tank top. No, his words held an important message that struck an ill chord with Boreas. Almost immediately, he frowned slightly, glancing away and looking off toward the next statue down the way. \"... There are plenty of fools these days.\" He responded quietly, voice containing just a little more iron, a little more grit, and just a skosh more volume.\n\nIn particular, he was thinking about Ares, a god which he already knew well from the Titanomachy and his plots against Boreas's relatives, the children of the city of Athens. And he had already heard tale that the ever-aggressive God of War had sided with Poseidon against Zeus... A certain King of the Gods which Aether had aligned himself with through the conflict so far. While the idea that Ares could perhaps kill the old primordial in front of him or even really sneak up on him was laughable, the idea that he could injure him? Or even just lay a hand on him?\n\nWell, to Boreas, to say it was distasteful would be... Understatement.\n\nSlowly, the North Wind stood up to his full height, one of the things about him that inspired the tales of his close relations with northern barbarians back in Ancient Greece, before taking a few steps forward. Indeed, it only took a few steps before he was close to the only other person in the park that night, close enough to put his hands on him, to push him against the statue, perhaps to violently inform him of his return to the city of Olympian in any number of ways evoked by his reputation amongst gods and mortals.\n\n\"It's cold tonight. You should wear heavier clothing.\" Boreas informed Aether, before slowly slipping off his own leather jacket and then, in a swift motion, wrapping it around the smaller god's shoulders. And then he took a respectful step back, glancing away and waiting for his old... Acquaintance to make the next move." }, { "author": "Aether!", "message": "The God of Light only gave a small smile in response to the way that Boreas called the general populace \"Fools\". He wasn't so unknowning about the mortal world that honestly... Not much changed. It was much more crowded and the probability of issues arising were more likely. \nThat thought alone made Aether smile just a little wider. \n\nFinally realizing that Boreas was standing, the blonde's gaze fixated on him. His eyes were bright with curiosity, not feeling threatened in the slightest. If anything... Based on their past, Aether felt safe. \nHe hadn't taken his eyes off of him, even when he has close enough to be considered a somewhat... Questionable distance. Because of their height difference, the blonde looked up just a little. \nBefore he could ask what it was that was on the other God's mind, Boreas was taking off his jacket. That jacket was placed on his own shoulders and the warmth enveloped him immediately.\n\n**\"Boreas...\"** \nAether's smile widened and he nuzzled his face into the collar of the jacket, his lips surfing over the fabric, taking in the smell of whatever it was he was wearing: a spritz of cologne, soap, or his musk.\n\nThe God of Light reached out for the God of the North Wind's hand. He gently tugged him forward into a hug, letting his cheek rest against his shoulder, arms tucked under the other's and hands against his back. \n\n**\"It would be a shame to cause a lightshow and have the mortals miss it...\"** He teased, but it wouldn't be the first time people didn't see the Aurora Borealis. \n\n**\"I missed you... Really, even if I knew you were never gone..\nTell me. What are you really doing out here tonight?\"**" }, { "author": "Boreas, the North Wind", "message": "It was always so strange to watch those eyes brighten at the sight of him. Everyone else in Olympian, if not the world, only seemed to darken at the approach of winter, like the very sun itself was overcast because of his approach. And yet, Aether never darkened because of him, he only ever seemed to get brighter... Perhaps it was the nature of his domain. It would be strange for light itself to disappear simply because another force appeared. There would be no reason for that to happen unless his mother Nyx appeared or perhaps his father Erebus. Light always made way for darkness and... At the very least, Boreas could be satisfied that Aether did not see him as some form of darkness.\n\nFor a moment, he hoped that his jacket was... Not unpleasant to him. He could only assume it smelled like... Him, to be truthful. A little bit of ozone, the identifiable sharpness of pine, and just a little bit of cloves that he admitted like to use in his own soap. For just a second, as Aether put his nose to the collar, there was a moment's dread in his chest, but it disappeared soon after; at the exact moment that the warm god reached out and took his hand, unexpectedly drawing him into a hug.\n\nThe North Wind almost froze, not knowing what to do... It had been centuries since anyone dared touch him, let alone wrap their arms around him. His breath stuck in his throat and surely, in the wintery places around the world, people were confused as to why the wind suddenly died. He could feel his heartbeat against his chest in surprise, getting faster as that soft blonde hair rested against his shoulder and he could feel just how *Hot* The other man's breath was against his neck.\n\nAnd then a different kind of dread descended. What if someone *Saw* Them? What if someone saw Aether doing this and told his wife? Or thought him strange? Or any number of things?\n\nCarefully, Boreas took hold of Aether's hands and slowly extricated himself from the hug. While he thought he might have been gentle or somewhat sincere about it, the actions definitely did not read... Much concern. They were far too direct, harsh even. And then those frozen steel eyes looked down at Aether with just a little too much squint applied. \"I have been... Thinking. As usual.\" Boreas explained, before looking around at the park again. \"I... There's much to think about these days. I find myself drawn to the Titanomachy and... Other conflicts... Like thoughts enjoy like scenery, it seems...\"\n\nOnce again, the eyes were back on Aether, now a more respectable foot distance between them. \"And you? Why are you here tonight?\"" }, { "author": "Aether!", "message": "Aether never minded Boreas' chill. There was a time when he hummed Winter Wonderland for him, with a cup of hot chocolate tucked in both hands. He watched families shop and children caroling. There was a time when songs through seasons reminded him of Boreas, but only closer to the end of Fall, when he knew the North Wind was the most prominent.\n\nThe God of Light didn't mind being pryed away from the other. Aether was often a bit clingy, and given their history, he wasn't thinking too hard about boundaries. To him, they'd broken that long ago. He needed to remind himself that things weren't as they once were, especially after all this time.\nHis hands stayed in Boreas' until those too dropped away or were pulled away to place in pockets. Aether's fingers gripped the edge of the jacket. It felt like college, when a football player offers up his jersey. The thought only provided a bit more shimmer along his hair and cheeks. \n\nAether toed the ground at the question, leaning back against Gaia's statue. \n\n**\"My children...\"** He didn't look at Boreas when he said it, and instead slid down to a bench just a step or two away. Aether finally looked at Boreas, and then to Gaia, before taking in all the statues there. \n**\"They are gone... Grief is a cycle. Some nights are... Harder than others.\"** \nHe gave the other God a small, sad smile. For some reason he couldn't communicate how much that hug before helped, if only because he was trying to honor that Boreas was alive as they stood in a graveyard.\n\nAether patted the bench next to him, looking at Boreas expectantly. \n\n**\"What is it that's been on your mind exactly? No time like the present to catch up.\"** \nA happier looking smile graced the God of Light's lips. It was probably a more welcome one than seeing him sad, though Aether couldn't assume." }, { "author": "Boreas, the North Wind", "message": "Admittedly, his hands did linger on Aether's fingers for a moment. They were... Warm. And warmth, to the god of winter, was a very distant and rare commodity that he often found himself subconsciously clinging to it when he was graced with its presence. Eventually, however, his conscious mind reminded him of his actions, of the time it had been, and the North Wind slowly pulled his hands away and put them in his pockets. Again, those blue eyes could help but watch the other man pull his jacket around himself, fighting against the cold that surely for which his acquaintance was responsible.\n\nThey couldn't act too familiar. This was no longer a tryst in the distant frontiers of humanity. In the cities and hidden places that man could make, where two gods could know each other without the sights of others. Without sounds becoming known so well to those who would judge. The taller of the two followed closely behind Aether and sat next him, burdened by different thoughts of the past now. Surely, if someone saw them being... Too familiar, it would get back to Hemera? And no spouse would allow a husband as handsome and kind as Aether to stray far without reprisal.\n\nEventually, Boreas turned to look toward the statue as Aether did, connection again with the conversation instead of thinking on other things. His own eyes moved past Gaia toward the statue of Hyperion, his own grandfather. \"Sadly, my thoughts are of... Similar things as yours.\" He could still remember the warmth that came off of Hyperion, the Old Sun, the feeling of being tossed into the air and surrounded by strength and light and warmth. And then all of that suddenly being gone, when Zeus ordered the Titans imprisoned.\n\n\"I'm worried, Aether.\" Boreas continued, slowly pulling out a cigarette and looking into the distance, over the rest of the city from the hill the graveyard rested upon, \"I'm worried this war will happen. That we'll make the same mistakes... Like when Cronus overthrew his father, and then became a tyrant. And Zeus overthrew him... What's to stop the demigods from repeating the process? Or Apollo and the other younger gods? It seems like... Like so few of us remember the Titanomachy these days. So few remember the true terror of a war in heaven...\"" }, { "author": "Aether!", "message": "Golden honey hues lingered on the statues for a moment, dark like molasses against the reflection of his mother's work, yet his own light were cosmos in crystallized amber.\n\nWorry wasn't something the other God so readily admitted to, not in the way he said it. The chill that reality brought made Aether curl his legs up on the edge of the bench, hunching further into the indirect comfort of the North Wind.\nHis own eyes twinkled in an uncanny way when his head turned to address Boreas. \nIt had been eons since he saw him, his square face and deep bridge, ending in lips that were so distinct in their shape that Aether could feel the contour just by imagining it. How wide and soft...\n\nHe looked away, and found his mind falling into a trap door. \nBlinding lights of his own violition and the hot stream of blood that leaked from his own broken heart. It was an anger he never felt before, and left him an antiquated vessel of light, full of cracks where the rays leaked out of him like he could shatter at any moment.\nThe God of Light stared at the internal microcosm of the memory world like it was a snow globe - a television to be observed. \nHis thumb idly picked at the edge of his shoe were the rubber banding began for the bottom tracks. \nAether was a thousand years away until a particular snap of the material of his\n\nShoe brought him back. \n\n**\"For those demigods, this war is their terror and for some, with how intergrated the world is nowadays... There is so much to set humanity back. \nJust Hades resurrecting the dead recently... Everyone is scared. Those who didn't believe in end times and that an apocalypse wouldn't happen are now believers in the worst way. \nThey have their own up and coming generations, their own children. Imagine living in two worlds like that. I can't imagine what the demigods must be going through... They have to choose sides? Because of us? We are their creations just as much as they are our's. Without them... There is no praise, no love.\nHow much right do we have to take this world away from them when they are the reason we are here? That we have children of our own?\"** \n\n||" }, { "author": "Boreas, the North Wind", "message": "Boreas recognized that look in Aether's eyes. Not only was a familiar sight from the time they had spent together prior, even though then the god of winter had never cared to mention his noticing, but it was also something he'd seen mimicked in recent months. A look that he'd seen in his own mirror several times, after long periods of considering the news he'd received on the tensions, the conflicts, and the different events on the gods. Moments where the memories of the war were far too close for comfort... Where memories of every war became far too close. From the Titanomachy with its thrown mountains, his boiling oceans, the wind and rain itself fighting against each other, which nearly wiped man from the face of the earth...\n\nTo the wars of men themselves, ones where he had directly fought for those who properly cowered before his might. General Winter had always been a terrifying opponent in many a culture's eye, but it was those that figured out how to fight on the side of the snow that he usual found himself... Standing beside. He could remember the Germans turning back the Romans at Teutoburg Forest, the invasions of the Goths into the Byzantine Empire... The rides of the Dorians against the Mycenaeans toward the dawn of the Greeks. Yet, the biggest memory was never the movement of his sword or spear, the weight of his armor... It was always the bright red blood and the biting cold as men who would have lived succumbed to exposure from the season he had brought. So many men, pointlessly dead, without glory, or honor... Two things that they never would have had in war anyways.\n\nShaking himself out of the moment's reverie, Boreas reached out an arm, wrapping it around Aether's shoulders and bringing him closer to him, just after the snap of the rubber on his shoes brought him back. The North Wind sat and listened, considering, before shaking his head so lightly. \"Spoken very well... For someone supposedly on the side of Zeus.\" He whispered with a small smile, before letting his arm drift off of his shoulders before settling with a sigh.\n\n\"The truth is that we don't. We have no right to push them into a horror like another war between the gods. To make our children, mortal or not, choose sides between parents and friends, siblings and cousins. And here we are, standing yet again at the precipice because our own fucking pride demands that we do...\" Boreas commiserated, before shaking his head, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. \"... It's bullshit. And I don't know how to stop it.\"" }, { "author": "Aether!", "message": "The blonde God looked at the North Wind as he encircled an arm around him, and he instinctively leaned in for something like the acceptance of a half hug. \nSupposedly, yes. Aether nibbled his bottom lip, thoughtfully.\n\n**\"My personal feelings come from being a father. I can't help that those ideals are foreign concepts to the man I serve. It's like that in any war, isn't it?\"** \n\nHe tried to stay vague and somewhat practical on the matter. It had been a long time for the both of them, and even though Aether was not a man who enjoyed hiding the truth... He couldn't let Boreas know about his true intentions...*Yet*.\nHonestly, Aether adored what the demigods were doing... But he needed to use Zeus' standing to sheild the demigods somehow. \nHis ideals were torn between Zeus' affect on his family, and how best to use his position in the Wrath's ranks to ensure that he could somehow... Protect some of the others. \nIt was a difficult spot to be in. \n\nThe God of Light focused on their shared bond as father's themselves, and he turned his head back to Boreas as his arm fell away and his seating position changed. \n\n**\"...It's not something we can do alone. It's going to take a lot of cooperation from people of each side...\"**\nAether's jaw tensed and he clipped the thought short. He knew what he would say afterwards would give away too much, but equally propelled him into something he hadn't thought of: he needed to find more people on the inside of each group who were willing break down forces from the inside.\nWhy fight the battle from the outside? When they could be carefully working from within? Like carefully clipping tennis racket wires to relieve tension...\nOr being inside the wave to ride it. \n\nThe blonde looked back to Boreas, scanning his face with some hope in his eyes. \n\n**\"You're not currently sided... Are you?\"**\n\n||" }, { "author": "Boreas, the North Wind", "message": "The warmth that spread throughout his body as Aether's head leaned against his shoulder caused Boreas to tense. He was never good with... Unexpected affection, especially of the physical kind, and the added difference of their body temperatures was something that made the effect particularly striking. He almost had to fight the urge to stand up and distance himself from Aether in the fear that his own desire, his surprise and uncomfortable urge to get angry at the sudden contact would cause him to do something he would regret for a long, long time.\n\nSo, instead, he removed his arm from the situation. Carefully extricated himself from the contact and put distance between them. As much as some part of Boreas might have protested, it was the best for now.\n\nInstead, he focused on the political part of the conversation, rather than remembering what might have been or had been a long time ago. Those blue eyes narrowed as he tried to piece together what Aether was insinuating. It wasn't particularly difficult... It was clear that he was being obtuse about actual specifics, but it was clear that he wanted to avoid a war. And that people on other sides would be required to handle some of the effort on that. The god of winter let out a sigh; his former flame was not incredibly clever when hiding his intentions, was he? If Zeus were around, it would be clear as day that the god of light wanted to work against the war and have everything come to a screeching halt. A double agent, one might even say.\n\nBoreas crossed one leg over the other, before turning to face Aether more directly on the bench. The arm that had wrapped around the other man's shoulders returned to rest on the bar of the bench behind him. \"... It was Athena that called me back to Olympian.\" He responded quietly, raising an eyebrow, \"We have been... Communicating for the last few months on the state of things and she asked that I come help her in her efforts for peace. I could not turn down a call from my one old ally.\"" }, { "author": "Aether!", "message": "Aether didn't like that sigh or the look that Boreas gave to him because he knew the other God was much more clever than the God of Light was trying to be. \nHe'd been caught in a vulnerable state that made it too obvious where his true vision of the war was, but he'd never been much of a liar. Would it be a good time to start? Maybe talk to some other Gods who were better at deception?\nOr would it be too obvious then too? \n\nAll of it was moot. \n\nAether's gaze had wondered to the concrete of the wall way just underneath the bench they sat it. When Boreas placed his arm against the back of the bench, he turned his head to address the North Wind more fully. \nAether wasn't surprised that it took months to convince Boreas to join the war, especially since there was much lost. \nFor himself, his mantle wad protecting his home, protecting his children - Aurora - as far as he knew. He wasn't sure he could handle any more loss before what was left of him was thrust into darkness. \nHe was a product of two personifications of night and dark... Sometimes he wondered who he could be if he let the darkness inside of him win. \n\n**\"It's... Silly to reminisce, but sometimes I go back there. To a time where people were in love with the earth and the joys of music and... I mean... Not all the time, but music is not the same these days. I miss the choirs, I miss the pantheons..\"** \nAether drew his legs closer to himself, placing his chin on his knees. \n\n**\"The chariots...\"** He sighed, before turning his head to look at Boreas again, silently letting his mind wonder to the day they met. He wondered if the North Wind remembered. \n\n||" }, { "author": "Boreas, the North Wind", "message": "There was a look on Aether's face that Boreas had never seen before... Or, at least, if it had happened prior all those centuries before, he'd never paid enough attention to it to remember it now. Frustratingly, it was only recently, within the last couple decades, that the North Wind had realized just how close he had come to knowing someone that cared about him in Aether. Back when they were actually together, he had never even considered thinking about him as a person, as someone that might be interested in talking to him... As a friend or something more. It was just a situation he had been in... And so his eyes had never been as drawn to figuring that face out as it was now.\n\nIt looked like he was thinking about something unpleasant. Something he disliked, but not enough to be angry about it. Maybe... Yes, there was fear there, too. Maybe about the war and what it might bring? About exposing his true intentions, even veiled, to someone he didn't exactly trust? There were so many things it could be, at the end of the day, and Boreas was never good at figuring people out.\n\nWords, however, words he understood. And these he understood so deeply that it caused him just that bit of anxious relief that sparked enough energy for him to move again. Was it intentional that he moved closer? Perhaps. Perhaps not, he couldn't say anymore. \"It's not silly.\" He muttered quietly, staring out over the city, before tilting his head back, up toward the sky. What he wouldn't give, to be his siblings the stars, all the way out there and separated from all of this... So much closer, naturally, to Aether. \"I go back there... Every couple of years.\"\n\nBoreas looked back down at the man seated next to him. \"To the Parthenon. They've tried painting it again... It's nothing like how it used to be, nowhere near as pretty. But they tried. I could almost... Remember...\" He explained, before looking away at the last word, staying silent for a while, and then, \"Do you still sing?\"" }, { "author": "Aether!", "message": "The God of Light wondered how long it had been that he'd felt the biting chill of the North Wind God's sanctity. He couldn't count the years in the matter of decades, but rather the span of centuries. \nAether's mind was thrown back to the two of them in an ancient Greece, well acquainted and engaging in... Less than ceremonious rites at the altar. \n\nAt first, Aether had come to the Parthenon to bring peace offerings to the other God. Despite being extremely friendly, after the War... Aether holed himself in the tower with Hemera. He became somewhat of a recluse to mourn and work through his own paranoia. \nDeep down, he knew that finding another who had suffered tragedy akin to his own loss would perhaps give him a chance to find solace in connection again. \n\nWhat had happened instead had set in motion something Aether hadn't planned on with Boreas. \nHe remembered the way the North God had arrived to the Parthenon, war torn and angry. Aether had been singing, hoping to call forth the God to explain his intentions.\nThey became more than friends very quickly. \n\nAether's mind swam through the murky ocean of memory, occasionally opening up tp a clear bubble to see a fraction of a event. \nHe realized this Boreas... Different. \nHis chill wasn't tearing through him, threatening to take every ounce of him in an extreme shift of mood. He was more like a gentle snow. \nThe slight inching towards himself made Aether realize what he was feeling, and his cheeks were a burgundy flecked with golden constellations of light. \n\nThe last evening Aether had seen Boreas, he almost hadn't seen his face, sitting similarly like this. A younger\n\nGod of Light had to peek around Boreas' large frame to try to see his face. \nHe never got to see the look in his eyes that he must of held when he knew he wasn't going to come back.\n\nTheir ending had come abruptly.\nAether visited the Parthenon for three days, back to back... And then spent a week there, hoping he'd see Boreas again.\nLike some broken hearted puppy. \n\nTime had replaced those wounds with others, and Aether couldn't say he wasn't surprised when he remembered suddenly how much he'd missed Boreas during that time. \nDid the North Wind know that?\n\n*Did he still sing..?* \n\n**\"Ofcourse I do... Would you like me to sing for you sometime? I've tried to... Sing to you before but you never replied. I'd sit on a hill at night, watch the Aurora Borealis and...\"**\n\nAether hummed the song he'd sung to Boreas before, but it was quick; rushed as if he was nervous and feared the memory would strike the wrong nerve." }, { "author": "Boreas, the North Wind", "message": "His heart broke.\n\nThe moment that Aether began talking so quickly, Boreas could only tilt his head in confusion. Why was he so eager to... To engage with that topic of conversation? The North Wind had assumed that the man would, for all the compounding reasons and events that had happened between then and now, would see his leaving so suddenly as something negative. To be completely honest, he had been certain that Aether would see the meeting in the Parthenon as something terrible as well. It made perfect sense to him for the other man to bury that memory, to hate him, to find some kind of spin that made him into a villain... It was the same kind of thing Boreas was used to for the entirety of his life. It was so familiar to him that he'd already guessed what the spin might sound like were it to be spoken aloud.\n\nYet, there was none of that. There was a blush on Aether's cheeks, a beautiful red speckled with freckles of golden light, that seemed to drag Boreas's sight away from those enticing eyes and to the light itself spreading across the other man's skin. Was... He embarrassed? Was he remembering how they met? The same thoughts were sparking across his own mind, the confusion of being called to the Parthenon, finding what was basically a beautiful human lamenting to him, feeling the... Desire... And everything that came after. The illicit meetings, the warm embraces, the moments where taking felt more like a coupling despite his own intentions. The God of Winter could not blush, his skin was pale and lacking warmth always... At least, it seemed so to him... Yet his face seemed to mimic the heat growing on Aether's cheeks with some of his own.\n\nAnd then the god of light started to hum. It wasn't his usual well-paced, even, calm tone, like it was an intentional thing. No, there was a desperation there that sped up the beat, that ruined the rhythm. There was... There was pain there in the song. And... Something else.\n\nHope. Hope and fear and desperation, all in a quick little hum of that familiar tune, and Boreas could feel his own heart breaking at the sound of it. He could feel a rush of emotion, anger first, hope second, disappointment an all-consuming third. Had he really hurt Aether so much to make him so afraid of connecting with him again? Had he truly been that stupid in the past? And... And Aether still willing to reach out to him? It was like a damn had broken and everything was rushing out at once and fucking hell was it terrifying. He was terrified, horrified at the amount of things he was feeling in that moment and it just had to stop! It had to stop!\n\nBoreas reached out a hand. He placed it gently on Aether's cheek, just enough for the heat of his hand to become obvious, though it was still so less than the heat of the other man's cheek that it was cool to the touch. And slowly, the god of winter shook his head. \"Not... So fast. I cannot go so fast.\" He muttered quietly. There were so many things to think about, to consider. \"I'm so sorry I hurt you. I... I want to know you better, now. If that is okay, if that would make you... Happy. But I can't do all of this tonight, no matter...\"\nNo matter how much he wanted it.\n\nSlowly, the taller of the two men stood from his position on the bench and took a few steps away. He needed time. Time to think and consider and figure out what it was that had suddenly burst through from his heart. Was he lonely and just needed connection? Was he guilty for what he did in the past? Or was this what it felt like, that same feeling from so long ago, when he had looked into different, yet just as kind eyes? Boreas turned on his heel and looked at Aether with his brow furrowed. \"I want to see you again. Sometime... Soon. When... Where can I see you again?\"" }, { "author": "Aether!", "message": "The humming ceased the moment that Boreas lifted his hand. Aether's heart jumped into his throat and his eyelashes fluttered at the sudden caress. \nHands from different times came cascaded all around him: that simple touch reminded him of all the others.\nThough, longing filled his chest, his heart nothing but a lone bouy in crashing tides. \n\nThe God of Light parted his lips, but no words were formed nor did his tongue try to partake in any dance that could raise sentences. Golden eyes looked between frosted blue as the boundary was set between them. It was like a fence was erected between them. \n\nBoreas stood a thousand thoughts of his own ran through his mind. \nIt wasn't often he was stunned into silence, but truthfully he was surprised that... After everything... That the God of the North Wind was sorry. \nAn unhealed part of Aether mended back together as it was seen. He hadn't been expecting an apology. \nAs the other man was walking away, what was he supposed to say? \n\nInstead it was Boreas who stopped and turned and Aether swore he felt the fabric of space and time open a new path for them to take. Or merged... Or- \n\n**\"Zeus' Aegis park or... The Serendipty Square Market in Tyche's Gambit. When-? Uhm-\"** \nThings were topsy turvy in the blonde's head. He was trying his best to envision a calander. \n\n**\"In three days time, at night,\"** He finally coordinated, pulling the front of Boreas' hefty coat around him. Realizing he still had it on, he started to take it off. \n**\"Do you want your coat back?\"**" }, { "author": "Boreas, the North Wind", "message": "Those lips had broken open when his hand landed on Aether's cheek. For a good few seconds, the thoughts in Boreas's head had to contend with visions of memories, of times before when they had opened like that for much different reasons. Or, perhaps, similar reasons that had just much more violent coatings around them. It was difficult to think, to get to the point of his emotions, when his desires for physical contact were getting in the way, and his memories were pathing a road to one result only.\n\nTo put it simply, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to kiss him. And that would not have been a productive end for the night, not in the least, not when... Well, when Aether had a wife.\n\nThat was another reason he stood up. The sudden memory that Hemera existed and could, at any point, come bounding into this scene to accuse a good and loyal man straying, when it was all Boreas's fault in the first place. It was all his fault, this temptation. And yet... Yet he needed someone. Anyone to talk to that might agree with his ideas but wasn't radical enough to yell at him or just accept what he was saying. He needed someone reasonable, someone... He needed Aether, who was he lying? He needed someone warm and willing to talk to him and understanding. He needed a friend.\n\nIf only to have just one real friend outside of this war. And Aether was the closest chance he had.\n\nAs the other man started to pull off the jacket, Boreas crossed the distance between them in a stride, reaching out both hands. They settled on the lapels, pulling them tight around Aether's shoulders and keeping it there. \"... Keep it. It will keep me from...\" From running away? It'll force him to show up? It'll certainly give him ideas of just what Aether might do it in later that night, and Boreas shook his head to throw the thought out. \"I'll meet you in the market. Three days time. At night. Goodnight, Aether. Go get some sleep.\"\n\nAnd with that, he disappeared in the gentle, cooling breeze." } ]

[ { "author": "wingmancan", "message": "Entering through the main entrance will take you into the living room and attached kitchen area. Large, tinted windows and a skylight give decent natural lighting during the day, and lamps as well as low lights powered by solar panels give off the light they need at night. The kitchen is fully equipped, and there is enough seating between that and the living room for many to sit comfortably." }, { "author": "Esmeray", "message": "The darkness that encompassed the gala came far too fast. The repercussion of Hades' wrath was seen as the dead rose from the ground in unmistakable horror. Esmeray had stumbled from the party battered and bruised, killing every undead creature that stood in her way as she tried to lead as many innocent mortals from the party. Continuously telling herself every time she looked into dead eyes that their souls were already lost to the underworld; the bodies that came from the depths of the ground were just vacant husks so that she didn't feel the guilt that seemed to hide underneath the surface. \n\nIt had been almost an hour since the small group that had followed her had slowly dispersed as they branched off towards their safe havens. Esmeray now stood pacing in front of the large window of the sanctum, the lights from the city that usually basked against the cement floors now shrouded in complete darkness. An admonitory to the preludes of tomorrow's destruction. A sense of uneasiness fell on Esmeray, coated in adrenaline, champagne, and worry.\n\nShe ran her hands down her ruined dress as she paced, the previously black material now gray from dust and mystery substances. Its tight-fitting fabric encased in rips and tears due to being entrapped in the ruins of the upper balcony. She had wished she'd chosen a more logical attire, a trade of the dress for a pantsuit or her faithful jeans. She could only imagine what her hair and face looked like, covered in blood and possible scabs from half-healed wounds. Proof of a night full of wonder, excitement, and intrigue turned disastrous. The wrath of Hades made its notable and understandable appearance. She sighed, crossing her arms and looking at the clock once more. Three am...\n\nConner nor Jared had been at the gala, their goals taking them elsewhere for the night as Esmeray had the pleasure of the gods' company. She couldn't blame either of them. Jared had always been a bit of a freelancer while Conner was staying under the radar as long as possible so that when he did make his grand entrance it would be in a way that would make all the gods take notice. She smiled at the thought. For a man who had become this shell of a man, the idea behind it was the first she had seen of the real Conner in a long while. \n\nThe smile fell as quickly as it came, worry taking hard precedence. He couldn't make his grand reveal if he were dead. Esmeray looked across the room, taking in the surroundings of their home. It was far from glamorous and far from the seaside estate that practically fell in her lap. The headquarters for all of their operations was an abandoned warehouse deemed unstable by the skyline's leaders on the outskirts of the city. Found by Conner, Jared and Esmeray it had quickly become the perfect home for those who wanted to remain hidden. With their efforts it had slowly grown, stabilizing the structure so that it did not fall on them as the outside may have indicated. It had style and had come a long way from the abandoned structure but it still needed work. \n\nShe couldn't help but think of the soft creaking of the steel beams made in the midst of a storm or the way she could hear Jared snore in his sleep. All commonalities to her now. She began to pace again, her feet making a soft sound against the cement as the building sat in complete silence. \"These damn guys will be the death of me,\"" }, { "author": "Alexios || Conner Donnelly", "message": "Conner couldn't remember feeling so exhausted. He dragged his feet as he stumbled toward the warehouse, wincing with each big movement. His body was a patchwork of aches, pains, and a bite mark on his shoulder hastily wrapped in cloth. It wasn't hurting so much anymore - reduced to a dull ache by then - but it looked dirty and dangerously close to becoming infected if he didn't treat it with more than just soap and water. \n\nWhat started out as a training day wound up being a fight for survival, not just for himself but for every innocent civilian in Ares Heights. Hades' wrath was felt across the mortal world in the form of undead rising from the grave, and Conner had been in the thick of it for twenty-four hours. Now, with the darkness finally lifted and the undead seeming to go back to their resting place, Conner could make his way back home.\n\nHome. \n\nHome didn't look the same as it used to. Home was a small, one-story house in the suburbs of Phoenix. Home was the dog that greeted him at his door by jumping into his arms. Home was his fiance dressed in her comfortable clothes with a warm cup of coffee clasped in her hands as she planted a kiss his on cheek. \n\nWhat he had now wasn't really home, but it was the only place he could currently call home. \n\n\nThe large door creaked and moaned as he pushed it open, walking into the dimly lit room to look around. It was quiet inside, each sound echoing in the empty space, but he wondered if any of his friends had made it back yet. \n\nThat's when he saw her. Standing alone in the darkness wearing a dress that hung off of her in tatters, Esmeray looked like she was waiting for something. \n\nHome came to mind. \n\n\"Are you alright?\" He asked, immediately concerned as he looked her over on his approach. \"Were you hurt?\" He didn't have to ask if she was caught in the zombie horde; he was sure she had been dealing with it as much as him." }, { "author": "Esmeray", "message": "Shuffled footsteps outside of the makeshift front door made her pause in her pacing, all thoughts of home fleeing. While there was a poor chance of it being one of Hade's puppets, she couldn't help but pray it wasn't as she stepped toward the door. Her heart rate had yet ceased to calm but as the door opened and she could see the outline of Conner, its rapid beat escalated. \n\nThe door creaked and groaned as he stepped through and closed it behind him. Her eyes met his as a deep breath escaped her lips. His body language showed how deeply exhausted she merely thought she had felt. The way his shoulders slumped and his feet dragged was concerning but he still had the gull to approach her and ask if she was okay. \n\n\"I'm fine, everything is already halfway healed.\" Esmeray shook her head dismissing her wounds for his. Her eyes looked directly toward the cloth-wrapped wound on his shoulder as she swore under her breath. She met him in the middle of the room, her hand reaching out to touch his. \n\n \"What happened?\" She ignored the cuts and scrapes that had yet to close, her eyes moving from his to his shoulder and back. While she knew that he had to have been in the middle of the fight, his wounds were as if he were merely mortal. A stiff indication of what he had endured.\n\nShe pulled him gently towards her, an arm wrapping around his waist to help him even just a few feet before he could utter a disagreement in her support. The exhaustion in which he carried seemed to be more than his appearance let on. More weight met her shoulders than what she would have thought he'd allow. They took slow steps towards the couch and when the back of his legs found the worn leather couch, she stepped away. Her steps were hurried as she grabbed the first aid kit that sat on the kitchen counter and returned to him. The metal of the kit made a soft racket as she sat it down on the wooden coffee table in front of him and opened it. \n\nEsmeray sat on the couch next to him, her eyes meeting his with a question of permission as her hands lifted towards his shoulder." }, { "author": "Alexios || Conner Donnelly", "message": "There was no hiding from her - not when he had entered the headquarters half-naked and half-standing, eyes weary from hours of fighting. Not when his feet dragged across the wood floors, and his shoulders slumped with an invisible weight. The only way to avoid Esmeray's worried gaze was by beating her home so that he could properly clean up before she had a chance to notice every cut and bruise, not to mention the glaring wound on his shoulder that was made more obvious by the bandage substituting as a shirt. \n\nBlue eyes dropped to look at their hands as they grazed, and he hesitated. There was a moment to feel the warmth of her touch before he pulled his hand away. It felt too close. Too intimate. A part of him begged for the affection, starved for contact. The other part of him held the desire at bay; there was too much work to be done, too much at risk. \n\n\"Ran into the zombies at Ares' Heights,\" He said, trying and failing to conceal the exhaustion in his voice. \"Been fighting since it all started.\" He saw where her eyes wandered and sighed. \"Had to use my blight, so it's not healing fast.\" \n\nBefore he could protest, she was tugging him close to keep him steady before walking him over to the couch. He tried to carry his own weight, but it was hard not to lean into her when she supported him. He wasn't worried about her being strong enough; he knew she was strong. He was more worried about burdening her since she was obviously tired like him.\n\nHe sank into the couch with a deep sigh, leaning back and closing his eyes to relax. He listened to her rush off, the rustling around for supplies, and then the returning footsteps as she hurried back to the couch to sit next to him. He opened his eyes to meet hers when there was a pause, and then sighed and nodded at her unspoken question. \n\nBetter to be doctored by her than an actual doctor.\n\n\". . . How was the party?\" He wasn't truly asking about the party itself, but about the information she might have gathered from it." }, { "author": "Esmeray", "message": "The question was a way to distract them both. Distraction from the problem that continued to persist while everyone partied and acted as if the world around them wasn't about to be blown up by jealous and egotistical gods. Distraction from him using his power and ultimately paying the price when maybe he wasn't ready. They needed training beyond what they had before and Esmeray hadn't yet voiced her opinion on the matter. \n\n\"Well... If the walking dead didn't give it away.\" She removed the cloth gently from his shoulder as she answered him, the sarcasm just out of her nature not to use. \"People showed up, I am not sure who they worked for but they bombed the gala. They came in with guns from all entrances and started shooting not caring who their bullets hit.\"\n \nShe sighed as she examined the wound. It was worse than she thought, his blight use causing his body's inability to heal or fight off infection. She grabbed the hydrogen peroxide and gauze. In normal circumstances, she wouldn't use it because it had tendencies to kill both good and bad bacteria but this wound needed all the help it could get. She didn't warn him before pouring it onto his wound, the gauze just underneath it so it wouldn't spill onto him or the couch. \n\n\"Before I left they were hauling Persephone off.\" She paused and looked at him, realizing she was closer than she intended. But despite their proximity, she didn't pull away justifying it as necessary. \"That also may be why you are weaker. I'm not sure what happened exactly as I was trapped under the balcony.\" She mumbled the last part, not trying to draw too much attention to it especially since her wounds and possible concussion were already healed.\n\n\"But I heard enough.\" She put the hydrogen peroxide down and pressed the wound with the gauze to remove the puss that had already begun to form. The wound was deep, the shape of teeth evident regardless of the infection. Her eyes met his again, exhaustion just now making her appearance in her own shoulders. The probability of finally letting herself relax now that he was home. \"Have you heard from Jared?\"" }, { "author": "Alexios || Conner Donnelly", "message": "Conner didn't resist as Esmeray started playing doctor on his shoulder. He assumed their actual resident doctor, Sasha, was away - hopefully held up in a safehouse while all of the undead were awake and walking around. That was the only explanation in his mind as to why she didn't try to call him immediately to come fuss over a wound that had very obviously already been dressed. Hektor had done a decent job of helping him while they were out in the actual fight together, but the wound was re-aggravated once the fight started up again and they got separated. Conner's ability to heal wounds didn't work on him as it did others, so he was stuck healing up in more conventional ways.\n\nAs Esmeray explained what happened at the party, Conner's eyebrows quirked up in curiosity. Aside from his own band of demigods, humans attacking the gods so blatantly was unheard of. People didn't just attack a gathering of the gods; many still weren't sure of their existence in the mortal realm, nor were they stupid enough to go head-to-head with immortals with nothing but guns. There had to be more to the story. \n\nBefore he could speak on it, Esmeray had poured hydrogen peroxide onto his wound without warning, and he bit down a shout, replacing it with painful grunts as his entire body tensed up. He hated that one zombie bite had essentially put his arm out of commission for a few days, but such was the consequence of using his blight. Sometimes, it was more of a detriment than it was a help.\n\n\"Mn. How was she hurt? Bullets don't do anything against gods,\" He said, though Esmeray's next statement answered that for him. If she was hiding out to keep safe from the gunfire herself, then she might not have seen everything. \"That explains it. This is the worst I've felt in a long time.\" He didn't easily admit his weaknesses, but Persephone being out of commission certainly made everything a lot clearer. \"Also explains why we're getting the walking dead.\" With Persephone hurt during an attack, it made sense that Hades lashed out in anger. Conner knew that feeling all too well. \n\n\"No, I haven't. I'm sure he's probably holed up somewhere at a casino.\" The man had some bad habits, that was for sure. \"With everything clearing up, he'll be on his way back soon.\"" } ]

[ { "author": "belladonna.", "message": "** ** Ft. 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘰 & 𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯ö𝘦.\n\n*\"We don't mess with strange people- oh. Hey.\"*" }, { "author": "Melinoe", "message": ".\n`With the now settled quiet, she continued her detail work on her piece with blissful unawareness of her surroundings.`" }, { "author": "* matteo gray.", "message": "** ** 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄? Was it when the sun went down or was it when the stars came from the clouds? When the moon shone round or the birds stopped exchanging gossip? Or was it when traffic slowed to a trickle and cars filled driveways? When porch lights flickered to life and curfew bells were rang? *How late in the day was too late?*\n\n** ** The crunch of battered sneakers on pavement echoed off the brick wall lining the park trail. Matteo couldn't remember the last time that he'd been on it. It'd been a year or so; maybe two if he was being close to exact. The last time he'd seen it, the branches had been brittle and the leaves had been dried. They'd been riddled by holes, brittle and dead in the fall. Now, they were lively, singing the call of summer. \n\n** ** Eyes raised heavenward, Matteo slowed to a jog before halting completely, hands meeting his knees and back relaxing as he doubled over. Three hours. They'd been at this for three hours. The german shepherd in front of him leading the way, and him following with no choice. Now, as they stalled, the dog snuffled at a nearby patch of wilted grass, tail wagging slowly as if he'd somehow managed to find himself treasure. Through the fluffy coverage of overgrown hair, Matteo watched, jaw set. \"Fang. Let's go, man, I've got work tonight.\" \n_ _\n\n** ** It wasn't as if the dog could hear complaints. If he had, he certainly didn't care. Lifting its head, the shepherd tugged at the leash, trotting off towards the center of the path. *Resume.* Three hours, and yet, to the dog, it probably felt like ten seconds. Matteo tossed a look over his shoulder, free hand popping up the wrinkled folds of his hood. He didn't mind being outside in the evening. It was peaceful; just the hum of crickets unseen and the faint chirps of birds who'd yet to silence themselves. Just the sun as it slowly sank, shadows yawning like spilled ink across the cooling sidewalk. Again, Fang yanked, and Matteo finally complied, straightening up and following the dog. It was decided in his mind already- at the end of the trail, they'd turn off at the streetlight and head home. He had a late night booking today. They weren't the usual deal that he was accustomed to, but it was an old friend. An extra bill or two in his wallet sounded nice to him. Jamming his hand into his hoodie pocket, Matteo stepped off into the brush of grass at the edge of the trail as a cyclist rode by, old bell crowing a hello and goodbye as the man rode off. People were packing up to go home. \n\n** ** That should have been him.\n_ _\n\n** ** \"Fang. Let's go, boy. We can come back around this trail tomorrow, yeah? Spend all the time in the world you want here.\" It was a promise. One he intended to keep. *Honestly.* And yet, it appeared as if it wasn't reciprocated. One second, he was a dog owner. The next? He was an owner quite alright, yet he lacked the most important feature that made him an owner. *The dog.* In the slim scrap of time that he'd been distracted, Matteo had allowed his hold on his dog's leash to go slack. With that given opportunity, Fang had bounded off after the departing bicycle, investigation mode in full effect. Matteo blinked, flexing his poised fingers as he realized that they now held nothing. Had this been a cartoon, he was sure that there would've been a question mark and a dotted outline of his missing dog right where the shepherd had been just a moment ago. \n\n** ** \"Fang?\" Whipping his head to the side, he followed the dragging leash cuff on the ground. \"Fang!\" And just like that? The chase was on again. Matteo bit the inside of his cheek and tore after the canine, hair dancing on his forehead as he hopped a fire hydrant and side stepped a rather upset looking Karen. She didn't get her chance to shout- *Neither did he.* The moment Matteo broke from underneath the makeshift canopy of the trail, he watched as Fang bounded up to a stranger at a bench. There, just a few paces ahead, the cyclist rode off, but Fang had lost interest. Matteo groaned beneath his breath as he watched the now confused dog turn to the stranger, panting as he tilted his head to stare at the unfamiliar face.\n_ _\n\n** ** This could go one of two ways.\n\n** ** Fang bit the stranger and Matteo dealt with the expensive aftermath.\n\n** ** *Or-*\n\n** ** He got there and intervened in time. For his sake, he sincerely hoped the latter of the two options was the outcome.\n\n** ** \"Fang! Cmere, dude! What's the matter with you? We don't mess with strange people-\" Breathless, Matteo finally caught up, hand diving to snatch the end of the leash and wrap it in his hand. Straightening up, he side eyed the lady at the bench, chest heaving. \"Oh. Hey. Sorry about that, he was following that bike.\" He didn't really know why; it looked tacky. \"Are you okay? I don't know if he bit you or not.\" Just in case, he was already preparing a spiel to defend himself and explain why he couldn't and *Shouldn't* Be sued. What would she take; the ten dollar bill in his back pocket?\n\n** ** ( ||" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "A marvel of divine horticulture, the Ceres Greenhouse is a colossal structure where gods and nature deities conduct experiments in plant growth, crossbreeding, and cultivation. This greenhouse produces a variety of enchanted crops, showcasing the pinnacle of agricultural innovation under Demeter's guidance." }, { "author": "Demeter", "message": "The sun was beginning to set as the humidity in the greenhouse felt at its all time high. The fogged windows showed the hard work that was blooming inside. Plants of all sorts of oddities found hiatus in the cool mist that covered their leaves in a light embrace. Demeter had spent hours in the greenhouse, her hands and clothes covered in dirt and compost. She had no care for gloves, no fear of getting dirty and the real threat of reaction left to the plants that were being harbored in a special place within the greenhouse, away from all the rest. \n\nShe wiped her brow with the back of her arm and sat back on her heels. The onslaught of herbs each in their designated containers looked beautiful, their petals perky in the goddesses presence, thankful to her for their new home. She lifted the case off of the floor and laid it softly on the empty table before adjusting the misters to their correct positions. \n\nShe had come to the nursery to relieve her mind after the events that had unfolded at the gala and after. The evil that had seeped from every pore of the lounge had put a soft damper on the mind. Her daughter's potential death; the result of Hades' unwavering ego in a gods fight. He had refused to take action, refused to interfere and what did it get him besides a threat on not his life but Persephones. Part of her wondered if he would make a stand now or if he would scurry back into the underworld with her daughter as if nothing happened. \n\nDemeter took a deep breath to calm the nerves and anger that began to rebuild from the small thought. 'She did not die. She is still alive.' The simple reminder had been said various times since that night. She had wanted to take her anger out on not only the soulless crusaders but on Hades himself. But she held strong. Instead she found solace in her work, cultivating and planting seeds. \n\nShe walked towards the built in sink, taking off her dirty apron and hanging it before washing her hands. The blue jeans she was wearing w\n\nEre now covered in dirt but her green button up top was still pristine, the sleeves rolled to almost perfection up past her elbows. Perfection was always something she strived towards while in the company of many and while in her own space she had the freedom to roll in the dirt and look like a mess - but somehow she had always found compromise between the two. \n\nShe looked up at the small mirror that hung in the greenhouse, the rust slowly formed over her reflection. The bags had begun to bloom under her eyes and the wrinkles had begun to form over her skin. Letting age grace her skin was something she hadn't let happen in a long time but as she felt the weight of trepidation over her, she had accepted it. With a sigh, she turned from the mirror and walked towards the exit of the greenhouse, the sun now far past the edge of the horizon." }, { "author": "Erebus", "message": "As Demeter made her leave, she would notice the flourish and proud plants within the Greenhouse begin to almost shiver, even recoil in some fashion. Their movements suggested something put them at unease, a presence in the room that wasn't her own, but rather something else. Something Foreign to the land. Of course, Demeter wouldn't be stupid. The shade within the greenhouse had seemingly duplicated and expanded to an unnatural amount, like something had made the room itself darken further than what it should usually be. There was many Gods that could do such a thing, twist and command the darkness to their will, but there was only one who used it in such a way:\n\n*Erebus.*\n\nIf the Motherly figure turned to look back upon her Greenhouse, she would see the cloaked and shadowed figure standing where she had just previously been working. The edges and trims of his cloak trailed and flowed in an unnatural form, black misty embers flowed off of him and dissipated as he stood where he was. His orange eyes weren't present, but Demeter knew that his gaze was on her. Did he hide his facial feature because of the battle with Hades? Or because Demeter was technically the enemy? Whatever the reason, Erebus kept his face hidden for now, a black shroud darkening the space from just behind his hood.\n\n\"Demeter. I came... To **Talk**.\"\n\nHe sounded unsure. Was it about him being here? Or the fact of this meeting itself? Whatever the case may be; Erebus felt more out of place than ever. He never did pay visits to Olympus or anywhere for that matter, but whenever he did step out of his void he always made sure to provide himself with a sense of duty. A Serious, mind set, eyes focused, no nonsense aura... And here? It seemed to waver." }, { "author": "Demeter", "message": "She wasn't far from the door when the darkness descended across her feet as if in waves, the aberrant shadows like she had only seen a few times before. Demeter wasn't used by company, especially company from the underworld. She straightened her back, an all knowing feeling slowly creeping up her spine, and slowly turned to the hooded figure. Although she couldn't see his face, he was still utterly recognizable. \n\n\"Erebus, what a pleasure.\" The slight sarcasm was hinted at but she wasn't sure if he would pick up on it. She never knew how to read the god. His presence was always alarming, his menacing demeanor the perfect example as to why he wasn't deemed approachable despite his beautiful wife and mass of children. \n\nShe studied him. His voice gave off an aire of uncertainty that she could only imagine was a rarity for him. Her eyes left him, knowing now why she felt the unease in the pit of her stomach. She turned back out the door and waved for him to follow. \"Please, follow me. We can take a walk and talk. You are draining the life from my plants.\" \n\nShe stepped out of the greenhouse and left the door open for him. Standing outside waiting for him to follow and furthermore to speak. She was curious what his business was here. His travels were not usually top side. She where she thought his loyalties were held was thrown to the wind at the gala when she mistakenly called Hades his King. A god of the underworld with no loyalties was both an asset and a danger." }, { "author": "Erebus", "message": "Sensing her distrust, unease, and sarcasm all wrapped into one bow that represented Demeter in the moment, Erebus could do little but roll his eyes at her 'pleasure' upon seeing him. Having not else to do but follow her beckoning, He let her comment on draining her plants slide, not wanting to aggravate the Goddess. The last thing he needed to fall upon him was her reluctance and refusal to hear what he had to say.\n\nStepping out of the greenhouse and standing by the Gardener, Erebus' eyes turned her now as they began to walk. She was right in her curiosity; Erebus rarely, if ever, travelled topside. His distain for the Olympians and dislike for the natural sunlight that glowed in the land cemented his disinterest in ever visiting here. Now? Times were desperate, war was looming, and the dangers were piling up. Risks must be taken, so Erebus would sacrifice what he wanted for what was needed. Lucky Olympus...\n\n\"I won't bother trying to convince you to pull out of this war. I already know why you would be set on seeing that oaf of a King fall.\" Erebus spoke. He knew that there was two Gods that Demeter hated out of everyone: Hades & Zeus. Although she would never kill Hades to save Persephone forever shutting herself away form her, Zeus on the other hand? Fair game for the Goddess. Erebus could never sway her to not try and be at his throat, so he wouldn't bother. He wasn't here for that, however.\n\n\"Instead... I want to talk about someone amongst your ranks. Amongst the tidebreakers...\" Erebus started, turning to Demeter now. His voice had been as sinister and cold as ever. However, when he mentioned this 'someone' to her, a shift in tone came up. His voice softened, as if he wanted to speak of no ill or harm about this individual. Something was much different about Erebus now, and to Demeter? She could most likely sniff it out: He was concerned- no. *Cared* For this 'someone'.\n\n\"I want to talk to you about **Nemesis**.\"" }, { "author": "Demeter", "message": "Demeter shut the door behind him and clasped it shut as she listened. He knew his audience, she had to give him credit there. He also knew her true intentions, but many did as she made them known. Her loyalty was not necessarily in Poseidon but more so in watching the brother, who stole her daughter and killed her love, fall. Poseidon knew it as well. While they also had their differences, she had chosen seemingly the lesser of three evils. She turned to the dark god, directing all of her attention to what he had to say. \n\nIt was when *He* Turned to her that she heard the switch. The ruthlessness turned soft as he spoke. Demeter had her tendencies of cruelty and malice, but she too knew the person one could turn into at the mention of a relative, or even more so, a child. \n\n\"Nemesis?\" His daughter. A strong force that had quickly taken power in Poseidon's ranks, finding favoritism amongst those 'closest' to him. She was smart and cunning, a true danger to those on the other side and a true match to her father. She cocked her head as a sly smile fought to surface. She had a feeling she had caught on to Erebus' plans. \"What, pray tell, would you like me to do with Nemesis?\"" }, { "author": "Erebus", "message": "Could feel Demeter's sly smiles and judging eyes begin to wash over, poking and twisting at him for something he has never done before. Erebus had never shown care nor urgency for anyone bar Nyx. He was always that uncaring, uninterested, unfeeling God. The irony of someone like him having so many children despite his lack of seeming love for them? Talking to the Goddess who ironically had too much love for her own that it seemed to push them away? It was a tale waiting to happen. Clearing his voice silently and resuming the conversation, Erebus spoke up once more, not leaving any details out:\n\n\"Nothing. I want you to watch over her while she remains with Poseidon's ranks. With the war growing, I feel that she will be without her Mother's protective gaze due to her being banished from the Underworld. She'll be alone in this.\" He paused. His face was still hidden to Demeter, but she could make out the details of a man struggling to put together a sentence, or to even speak the one he had thought up. All out of place for a man of his history and stature. What was Erebus up to? After his brief pause, Erebus continued once more;\n\n\"I want you to watch over her as if she was... Your own.\"\n\nAnd there it was. Erebus, the personification of Darkness and Shadows. A deity who had shown no compassion nor love to any deity beside his partner. A primordial who had witnessed all happen and cared for little to no one... And he was showing care for his daughter. \"Obviously, this will stay between us.\"" }, { "author": "Demeter", "message": "There it was. Erebus' intentions for coming topside and even more so for speaking with a goddess he most likely didn't care for. All of this for a daughter he acted as if didn't exist. A small spark of sincerity cleared the cloud of distrust that had floated over Demeter's head. This was simply a father coming to a fellow parent asking for help in protecting his own. \n\nThe sly smile fell from her lips and instead, she bowed her head slightly looking at her clothing and quickly dusting dirt from her pants. \n\n\"I will watch her if you also do me a favor.\" She knew it would be a longer shot than his favor for her, especially with his recent altercations with Hades. \"I ask that you watch over Persephone. I still do not trust Hades, especially since the gala.\" She glanced back up at him, her uncertainty and discomfort now evident. An eye for an eye, protection for protection. \"I need to know that she has protection. That little stunt was not okay and now everyone we love is in danger. I will watch your daughter on the condition that you also at least try to watch mine.\" \n\nBefore, Demeter would never have thought she would find such similarities in Erebus. But the silence that sat between them was a new understanding. This moment was that of a father and a mother, not of two gods." }, { "author": "Erebus", "message": "What was becoming of Erebus? The acting towards his children made other Gods believe he cared little for his offspring, yet he found himself traversing through the realms to be where he was, all for the sake of one of his children. Had he grown soft? Had a secret agenda? Or had he truly cared for his Spawn more than he had originally thought? Whatever it was, it had compelled him to reach out to the only other Goddess who possibly cherished her children more than Nyx.\n\nUpon hearing that Demeter wanted a favour for Erebus to fulfil, he had no doubts it would be to return the same treatment onto her own Daughter. Persephone. Within the Underworld, only two Gods knew the Underworld like the back of their Hands; Hades and Erebus. Someone with that knowledge, and the power to even hide within another's shadow? Who better to have watching over your child? He had fully expected Demeter to ask him to do such, especially when he requested her to watch and protect Nemesis, and even more so after the Gala incident. People were already questioning if Persephone was truly safe with her Beloved.\n\n\"I'll be her shadow... She'll never walk alone.\" The Darkness spoke, swearing his end of the deal. Thus, the two seemed bound to their new duties: to protect the Daughter's of one another. Demeter to Nemesis. Erebus to Persephone. Never in a Millennia would he assume he'd make such a pact, especially with Demeter of all Deities." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "The Fertile Grove Arboretum is a diverse collection of divine trees from various corners of the mortal and divine realms. Each tree represents a different aspect of nature and is meticulously cared for by skilled arborists and nature deities. Gods visit this arboretum to draw inspiration from the diverse tapestry of the natural world." }, { "author": "Boreas, the North Wind", "message": "Olympian had grown much since the last time that Boreas had walked its streets. Back then, they were barely making the movement between horses and automobiles, only a few of the richest inhabitants having had the funds to secure such a luxurious move of transportation. Now, however, the things seemed to be everywhere, along with the massive buses and trains underground that seemed to unsettle the very earth beneath his feet. The North Wind was not, for all intents and purposes, a god behind on the times... Indeed, he was one of the few in the pantheon that spent most of his time amongst humanity. Watching their growth, being involved in their lives, nipping at their windows as he watched them tinker away at their little tools and gadgets.\n\nHe had quite enjoyed the invention of the car; he enjoyed things that approached the speed of the wind, allowing him to experience something akin the movement with which he was able to fly without actually relying on his powers. Planes used to provide a similar sensation, however with the invention of closed canopies, it was once again the convertible car, Formula car, or motorcycle that came closest to giving the god of winter something like that rush he used to much enjoy. The environmental damage was nothing that he'd ever expected from his favorite invention, though, even if he had expected the usual human tendency for destruction. As such, he found such a collection of vehicles out on the road to be... Distasteful. During those moments where his distaste slipped toward annoyance, he often found himself looking to other locations in the city for respite.\n\nThe section of the city dedicated to Demeter was such a place to walk. Especially the Arboretum, filled with its wonderfully diverse selection of trees, it offered Boreas an opportunity to enjoy nature during the day without the thoughts of human destruction... Nor the current divinely ordained destruction going on below. With a sigh, the North Wind continued to walk down the path, glancing up toward the boughs of a massive oak as he considered much of what has happened so far. Violent insurrection, terrible infighting, his quiet arrival into the city, remaking old connections... Seeing Aether again. Was that to be his fate forever? To see old enemies and friends from the past and rekindle the loves and rivalries that were present before? To eternally replay them out on the stage for humanity and the Three Kings to enjoy?\n\nUnable to help it, Boreas let out a long, loud sigh. It was... Difficult to deal with such thoughts. Even at home, they were only slightly easier to bear thanks to the creature comforts he had to himself. There was no longer anyone there he could really share these thoughts with... Khione visited only sparsely, his brothers were no help, his wife and other children gone. The only distance connection he had was his adopted daughter in Aeolus, and even she was distant, dealing with the squabbles and movements of the other Anemoi. The North Wind sat, face a mask, as he stared up into the branches of the big tree. Where was Aeolus now? Was she fine? It was a wonder he could not answer at the moment..." }, { "author": "metanoia11", "message": "Freedom was a thrilling thing, both alluring and terrifying. That was what Aeolus thought the first time she left the island named for her, an island that was both her pride and her prison. Living under the burdensome eyes of other Gods and Goddesses, used as a tool for their petty grievance and grand vengeance—she'd wanted so much to venture into the world and live among the humans. Yet, when finally offered that opportunity, she shrunk back, excited but fearful, cowering like a lost child. \n\nYes, that was what she was, _a lost child_. The day she first stepped into the mortal realm, she found herself wandering within the Arboretum, dazed and aimless, paralyzed by the very freedom she always wanted. A step forward would mean new experiences, things out of her control; and a step back meant the stifling stagnancy she hated so much, but knew so well. And so, she had simply sat on the grass, staring at the dappled sunlight through the verdant canopy above. Her first day of freedom ended peacefully that way, surrounded by nature. \n`\n\nToday, as she sat there again, the lost look of the past was gone, replaced by quirked lips in a perpetually cheerful face with light brown eyes. Aeolus gave a youthful, charming impression, one carefully honed over decades, maybe even centuries of pandering to others in the name of love. If she smiled, they would smile back, and if she acted cute, they would soften—that was the lesson freedom had taught her: _she had no freedom_. \n\nShe glanced around carefully before her quirked lips slowly relaxed, her body laying prone on the grass with no posture or etiquette to speak of. There was no need to act here; the sheer size of the Arboretum meant a smaller likelihood of running into acquaintances. That was why it was the place she went to whenever her mood became chaotic, when the pretense began to crumble and her temper escaped her grasp. It was her hideaway, where there was only the breeze among the leaves and plenty of hiding places from which to observe the crushing world around her. How did others face the world? Maybe she could learn from them. \n\nAeolus curled up in her favorite spot, surrounded by large oaks that hid her well, making the leaves dance on her palm through Zephyrus's blessing, the gentlest of her compatriots. A folk tune swayed quietly from her lips, from a time she barely remembered when she was a child locked in a cave with four primordial strangers. They were the only ones she'd known at the time, and the only entities to have ever given her a gift to date. A brief yet pleasant time when she still had confidants around that didn't gallop on all fours. \n\n_Who was it that taught her that folk song?_ \n\nAn absentminded self-inquiry that she didn't care to delve too deeply into." }, { "author": "Boreas, the North Wind", "message": "The sun was high enough at that point in the day that sunshine fell through the branches like party streamers that were just a little too long. For just a moment, the man many would call Old Winter stood beneath the ancient tree and tried to let the light shine on his skin, give him just a little bit of extra warmth as the day progressed, despite the fact that he knew it was helpless. No matter what other people felt when they touched his skin, the warmth of a live body and the pulse of a beating heart, Boreas was cursed forever to feel only the sharp cold of his own Northern Gale.\n\nPerhaps that was why he hated Helios... The man had always spited him, never giving him an ounce of warmth or embracing him with some form of kindness. It had always been the cold, like the sun had denied him the most basic pleasure of the living. Yet another basic pleasure of the living.\n\nWith a sigh, the god turned his eyes from the boughs above him to the ground underneath him. He still needed to get his bearings in this city... So far he had met only a few other gods here, particularly Aether and Hyacinthus. Both were supposedly loyalists to the cause of Zeus, but the reality seemed to be a bit deeper. The average sentiment so far was that the war itself was unnecessary, just a bit more desperate dealing between the Brothers to see who could eek out a bit more power over the other. However, that was only two gods and, to be honest, two of the gods most likely to be opposed to war given their inclinations. Boreas was by far not a pacifist, as much as he was striving to change now, and understood that sometimes a conflict had to be fought... If the reasons were good enough. As of yet, none had given decent reasons for the war, and he himself could not piece them together.\n\nThe North Wind continued to walk down the path, slight confusion still plaguing his thoughts, mind up in the air about how things were going, before suddenly he slowed and came to a stop. There was someone laying out in the grass a distance away, someone that seemed to be a bit familiar. To be honest, the chances of running into someone out here were incredibly low so... Despite his more anti-social tendencies, Boreas decided that the chance was far too random to give up to pure luck.\n\nAfter a few moments, the breeze around Aeolus would drop in temperature, going from a balmy thing somewhere in the high seventies to the low sixties. Wind would whip at the grass for a few moments, before eventually dying down... And a shadow would fall over her, something clearly imposing between the young goddess of the winds and the sun. That would be the moment that the North Wind's face came into view, a raised eyebrow clear on his otherwise stoic expression. \"... Aeolus?\" He asked quietly, not having directly seen his long lost daughter in some several hundred odd years." }, { "author": "metanoia11", "message": "Her sensitivity to the wind was unmatched, and Aeolus felt something the moment he entered her territory. It was a nagging, irritating familiarity, and her frigid, icy blue mount came to mind instantly. Her face wrinkled in a mix of affection and exasperation as she thought of the stubborn blue horse who had a nasty habit of tossing ice crystals at his Spring-born brother, whenever she so much as glanced poor Zephyr's way for too long. \n\nWith those amusing thoughts in mind, Aeolus didn't think much of the shift in the winds—maybe she was simply missing her unruly divine horses? It was only when the warmth of the sun was abruptly interrupted that she quietly transformed from indolence to youthful vigor, a warm and sweet smile habitually gracing her features as she glanced up at the visitor.\n\n\"Hello! Did you need some... Thing...\" The words died weakly on her lips, her pupils sharply contracting from the shock of Boreas's appearance. Her body instantly reacted, like a cat whose tail was stepped on, bouncing upright into a stiff, almost defensive posture. \n\n\"B-Boreas!\" She stuttered, her eyes wide and panicked. Her figure was reminiscent of a timid student called out by a strict teacher, shrinking and nervous, ready to bolt at a moment's notice. \n`\n\nAeolus couldn't help her instinctive reaction to this foster father of hers. The memories, blurred by time though they were, were still capable of raising her hackles. His guardianship always felt layered in expectation to Aeolus, and she always wound up feeling like she never could quite match up. As his absence grew more pronounced and she spent more time on her own, this feeling had grown and become rooted deeply within her. Now, she looked at him with complex emotions, her turmoil plain to see. She smiled, or tried to, her voice embarrassingly high despite her best efforts, \"I-I didn't know you were here! Why... What brings you here?\" \n\nAeolus swallowed, feeling the tips of her ears burning hotly in shame at her instinctive timidity. It was like she was transported to ages past, a naughty, excitable child grounded in her least favorite cave by Boreas for being too wilful. Back then, she hadn't known who Poseidon was to her, only knowing Boreas, Zephyrus, Notus and Eurus. The longing for affection hadn't come yet, nor had the harsh reality of being left behind by them sunk in. She was only a child, relying on her four guardians for everything, beholden to their guidance and demands. \n\nLike she had suddenly realized she was no longer the child of before, Aeolus visibly relaxed. Her smile became more natural, its sincerity hard to gauge. \"It's been a while, Boreas,\" She said softly, displaying once again how much she embodied the fickle winds she held sway over." }, { "author": "Boreas, the North Wind", "message": "Seeing the way her shoulders squared, Boreas couldn't help but be reminded of the first time he met Aeolus. A mere child locked away on a distant island, a prison for all intents and purposes, after she was practically abandoned by her own father and given the legal dominion over the winds. To the four Anemoi, it was nothing more than an insult, the idea that they were supposed to bow and scrape before a mere child, that they were supposed to be her steeds for her to ride to the corners of the earth and direct the seasons. Like they were nothing more than animals, forces to be subjugated. Like Boreas had not spilt blood, his own and others, during the fucking Titanomachy to win Zeus his highly coveted throne. Like he and his brothers, with their own hands, helped cast down mountains and seas with other gods in the name of some grand new order.\n\nA new order that would see them subjugated to a girl. Why? Because Zeus was frightened that the storms the four brothers could conjure would outpace his own power, surely. They needed to be *Humbled*, reminded of their place, brought in line with Olympus.\n\nNeedless to say, the fury that had run its course through Boreas was indescribable. Men and women in the north felt it for months on end, terrible blizzards coating the ground in feet of snow, storms that would rip oak trees from the ground, and biting winds that would freeze men solid in hours. However, despite their anger, despite *His* Anger, Boreas and his brothers could not avoid the reality that they now had a fifth mind in determining the movement of the seasons, and they could not simply ignore her. And so Zephyrus, perhaps ever the optimist, or ever the schemer in the North Wind's mind, asked them to simply attempt to raise her. To raise her as their child, a foreign concept to Boreas at the time.\n\nHe could still so vividly remember the way her shoulder squared when she was a girl, all alone on her island, and it was his turn to watch her. To teach her. The anger in his heart when he looked at her and yet... And yet, he had always had a soft spot for her, too. One that mellowed the anger over time, realizing that she was just as much of a victim as he was of the gods' scheming. And so he raised her, perhaps harshly yes, but Winter was harsh and fickle. It did not mean it couldn't care, it couldn't nurture when needed, that it couldn't provide... He could do all those things, albeit in his own manner. Just like any parent, he had tried his best.\n\nAs it was, however, he could not help but feel a twinge of disappointment as he saw that fake smile slip onto Aeolus's face. A smile that was, to him, so distinctly a sign of *Zephyrus's* Influence that it almost sent him into a rage. At the mere sight of it, he took a breath in through his nose, something not fast enough yet to be violent, and yet clearly on the edge. And then slowly, slowly, he let it out, settling it down. \"... It has been far too long, daughter.\" He responded, trying to will himself to melt for the moment. To remember the good times, and not just the moments when he handed her off to his hated brother. \"As like... Yourself, I would assume, I am here because of the current politics on Olympus. Poseidon and Zeus are once again up to their tricks.\"\n\nThe North Wind paused for a moment and, with an almost concerted effort, he sat next to the place where she had been sitting before. Glancing up at her again, he gestured toward the ground. \"Sit with me. We should catch up, as the mortals say.\"" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "A sprawling amphitheater emerges where those in Olympian gather to revel in the intoxicating performances of the god of wine and ecstasy. The ampitheater is surrounded by lush vineyards, and its center stage becomes a platform for Dionysian celebrations, featuring theatrical performances, musical extravaganzas and mesmerizing dance routines that echo the spirit of revelry." }, { "author": "peIOtiYshatesha", "message": "Nothing could have prepared Dionysus for the tragedy set soon to strike down and utterly crush him. The day had been like any other: mundane, dull, and filled with alcohol. Unlike a majority of the gods, the war was far from Dio's mind and, in most cases, an almost nonexistent part of his life. He gave his support to Athena when directly asked, but currently delivered his aid in the form of wine and good times, easing the gods' bitterness and the humans' fears. It had yet to truly affect him aside from putting more fuel to the fire that was his immense aversion to Zeus. \n\nAs such, he had no suspicions of any misdoings when he received the panicked call from one of his vignerons. \"Hold on, you're speaking too quickly. I can't understand you. Slow down. What is going on?\" Nothing the man said made any sense; a ... Wind storm destroyed the vines? *No, no, no, wait.* There was an - intruder - in the vineyard?\n\n\"What do you mean they're gone now? Just–look, I'm on my way. Try to keep whatever or *Whoever* This is contained.\"\n\nDriving up to the vineyard, the god was suddenly blindsided by the disappearance of the expected luscious greenery. In its place was a rancid, decrepit field. Dio staggered slightly out of his car in disbelief as he stared out at his precious plants, eyes wide, horror etched into his face. A few expecting employees had rushed out to meet him, but he ignored them all. Scrambling to the closest set of grape vines, Dio reached out and gently grasped the plants' leaves, examining the decayed remains closely. He frantically pulled at his own inner power, and tried to will *Any* Spark of life into them. \n_ _\n\nBut there was none to be found. It was as if the very dirt itself had lost all fertility and spirit. \n\nDio was absolutely dumbfounded. There was simply no natural explanation for this. And something powerful enough to destroy *Everything*? This ... This had to be magical in origin. More importantly, this had to be a clear, purposeful act. No minor accidental power slipup. \n\nHis confusion began to shift into rage.\n\nAs the sound of his workers finally broke through his frenzied mental analysis, Dionysus turned to face them, his usual giddy smile completely vanished. They didn't stop rambling about their description of the events, but their voices had become shaky and slightly fearful. A part of Dio didn't care at this moment, outrage overruling his love of niceties. \n\n\"Where the fuck is this intruder? What were you even doing if they could ruin the ENTIRE field and get away with it?\" His own voice stung with the strength of his temper, his emotions starting to overflow beyond himself. The malignant thoughts seeped into the nearby employees' minds, causing their stances to further crumble and slouch.\n\nIt was the god of madness's curse: he always felt too much, too intensely. \n\nBut luckily, for a brief moment, a bit of composure and logic broke through. His expression softened as he recognized the painful effect of his own powers. Dio could be angry, yes, but the anger had to be redirected. He was asking too much of mere mortals; this must have been the work of some god-like influence and, as such, should to be handled primarily by him.\n\n*... I need a drink ...* If he wanted to maintain any trust of his team, he needed to distance himself from this. He needed to regain control before he sank fully into his maddened mindset. \n_ _\n\n\"Just– put together everything you have. Save what you can. I ... I will be back.\"\n\nWithout another word, he turned away from workers in time to sense the fury taking hold once more. Dio traveled on autopilot towards the amphitheater. Given the destruction around him and likely by the stage, he knew it would be empty (or at the very least could easily scare anyone away). His mind and heart were racing, and once he arrived, Dio sought out his main consolation. Digging through the nearby storage, he groggily yanked out a bottle of wine, uncorking and downing a few gulps straight from the bottle.\n\n*This can't be happening.*\n\nWhile he couldn't rely on or trust humans to handle him in his current state, Dio didn't want to be alone. This was an enormous fiasco to handle by himself. Not desiring to bother his mother with this immense failure, he contacted the next best thing.\n\n`From Dio:\nTo Pluncle:\n\nAmphitheater. Now. Emergency. Will be clear when you get here.` \n_ _" }, { "author": "Plutus, God of Wealth", "message": "\"Please, my lord . . . My debt has doubled in less than a year and I'm not sure how I am going to feed my family.\" The words were spoken by desperate lips from a man who wore hand-me-down clothes and weathered boots. His hands were clasped together in prayer as if doing so would change Plutus's mind, as if the god wasn't already ignoring what he had to say. \n\nWith his head leaning against the back of his throne and his eyes closed, Plutus might have looked asleep except for the fact that he was tapping his finger on the arm of the chair. Aside from the groveling, it was the loudest sound in the office - drowning out another, more devious sound happening under his desk. \n\n\"Mn. And how much did I give you before?\" Was all he asked, still not opening his eyes. \n\nThe man's eyes dropped before he fell to his knees, already knowing what the god of wealth's answer was going to be. \"PLEASE, highness. I need to feed my family!\" \n\n\"Well, you should have thought about that before you gambled it all away on dog racing. Looks like your family will go hungry thanks to you.\" He made a motion with his hand to shoo the man away, but when he didn't seem to get the hint, Plutus's eyes snapped open and a frown darkened his expression. He snapped his fingers, his jaw clenching as he stared the man down. It was enough encouragement to get him to leave. \n\nWhen the door slammed shut, a mussy head of blonde hair popped up from under Plutus's desk, making him breathe out. The woman looked around, confused, before meeting Plutus's eyes. \"I thought he'd never leave.\"\n\n🪙 🪙 🪙 🪙 🪙 🪙 \n\nDionysus wasn't kidding when he said it would be clear what happened. As he was driven to the amphitheater, Plutus got a good look of the Vineyard along the way. His mouth dropped open as he took in the state of things - the rotten fruits, the browning vines, the dead plants stretching for what seemed like miles. It felt like a blow to his gut, so he could only imagine what Dionysus was feeling in that same moment. \n\nOnce parked, Plutus got out and slowly made his way inside the theater, his steps careful and quiet despite dressed in shoes too fancy for the outdoors. He saw his nephew sitting on the steps overlooking what used to be the beautiful vineyard - his pride, his livelihood. Walking over, Plutus stood next to him, setting his hands on his hips and looking out at the destruction. He wasn't sure what to say in comfort to him, but he couldn't remain silent for longer than a few seconds. \n\n\"Do they know who did it?\"" }, { "author": "peIOtiYshatesha", "message": "The wine god's anger bubbled silently beneath the surface, his cold stare glued to the dead foliage surrounding him. The emotional energy charging up within his hunched body felt as toxic as the environment. Sapping all the patience and understanding he'd normally offered, it heightened his desire to find and enact vengeance. To do *Anything* To take this infectious hate away. His attention was only briefly broken by the light of the phone screen laid beside him, his eyes flicking downward towards the faint text. It was the responding message from his uncle, confirming his soon-to-end isolation. *Good.* Dionysus stuffed the phone in his pocket; he had no desire to talk to anyone else. \n\nPlutus's arrival felt like ages after the initial contact. The blond could just barely hear the consistent thud of his dress shoes against the ground. He didn't turn to properly address his uncle, but an unopened bottle of wine sat beside him on the stairs. Dio's own serving was nearly empty at this point. \n\n\"... No. Not yet.\"\n_ _\n\nHis voice was a hollow shell of the joyous wit it normally embodied. Fingers massaging his scalp, attempting to will a headache away, Dio finally looked up at Plutus. The other man's face appeared to mirror the same as the wine god's. If anyone's heart pained over this loss as much as Dio, Plutus would be them. Together, the two gods had spent countless nights partaking in the fruits and labor of this very vineyard. Plutus was even often selected as a special guest to sample brand new varieties before they were announced. This place held significant memories for the both of them. \n\n\"... It ... They aren't sure. To be honest, I couldn't really hear all the workers' ramblings. But, I think they said that cameras spotted someone. Unfortunately, they didn't catch anyone. If they had by now, I'm sure I would have gotten a call. Whoever did this though ... It's not ... I-I can't mend it, Uncle. The plants they don't listen–they're not growing. It's like whoever did this stomped out the life from the soil as well.\"\n\nDio sighed heavily, downing the last gulp from his bottle. \"Why would they target this? I ... I'm neutral to this fucking war. *This*,\" He continued, gesturing out to the field. \"This benefited everyone. Why would– you don't know anything, do you?\"\n\n||" }, { "author": "Plutus, God of Wealth", "message": "Plutus wasn't the right person to comfort others. When he originally decided to disconnect himself from the woes of humanity, he stepped too far backwards and found himself struggling to connect with anyone on a personal level. Despite having decent relationships with his sister, his niece, and his nephews, Plutus still hard time expressing feelings in a normal, healthy way. Watching Dionysus sulk on the steps of the amphitheater with his namesake, he couldn't figure out exactly how to make him feel better. A pat on the shoulder seemed patronizing. An \"I'm sorry\" Seemed inappropriate. \n\nRather than try to put on a fake sympathetic expression and lie to his nephew's face, Plutus spotted the unopened wine bottle and sighed. He looked for a clean spot to sit, dusted it off just in case, and then sat next to Dionysus. His back was straight, making him tall even while sitting - especially compared to the wine god. He tapped his knees thoughtfully before snatching the bottle and effortlessly popping the cork. \n\n\"I know how you must be feeling, dear nephew,\" He said, looking around for glasses to drink from. Plutus was hardly one to drink straight from the bottle, but he realized that it wasn't the right moment to be civilized when there were none to be found. \"If someone robbed my vault or leveled my banks, I'm sure there would be a lot of anger. Sadness.\" Both of which, he was sure Dionysus was going through based on the expression on his face. \n\n\"Whoever did this . . . We'll find them. I'll pay top dollar to whoever figures out the person responsible.\"\n\nMoney was really the only way Plutus knew how to show affection, or sympathy, or any kind of human emotion that might help someone through a tough time. He wasn't able to heal their pain, but he could throw money at a problem until it was fixed, no matter how long it took, no matter how much it cost. \n\nHe took a large swig of the wine, especially when Dio started to bring up the war and his lack of involvement in it. Plutus was certainly in the same boat; he technically chose Zeus's side, but he had yet to be called to fight and probably never would be. He was there for monetary assistance and nothing more. It wasn't betraying his leader to help a family member out. \n\n\"I haven't heard anything about targeting your vineyard as I would have been loudly against it.\" Just looking out at the dead plants made his skin crawl. Someone had decided to take away one of the joys in his life; soon, he would have to settle for . . . *Mortal* Wine. \"There's no strategic advantage to hitting the vineyard.\" He paused, finally thinking of an important question that probably would have been the first on anyone else's mind, but for Plutus, it was the bottom of his priorities when it wasn't someone he knew or liked. \". . . Was anyone hurt?\"" } ]

[ { "author": "briannamccoy", "message": "On a hunt for supplies" }, { "author": "Circe", "message": "Circe was in the foulest of moods as she scoured through the bazaar looking for one of the more hidden booths that carried a certain blended vintage. Hoping beyond hope the old couple who ran it were actually there since it was a seasonal wine she'd gone looking for to work on the RARE health infusion that kept a position on her potion shelf since the herb combination had finished infusing and there was only a certain window for it to be combined with THAT wine for it to be the strongest or settling was going to happen. The only thing that made the fortified wine so rare aside from the seasonal vintage it was combined with was the fact people were almost never worth the effort of making it these days. \n\nThe fact her bed had been empty for months was probably part of what was contributing to Circe's excessive crankiness, but finding two of her most trusted servants screwing each other to the point the wine they'd consumed was oozing from their pores and soaking the air with proof of where her stock went had been the final straw. Both women were cooling their heels in the pig pen, the pair transformed into some of the hairiest animals in the spellbook until her return. \nSomebody had to be smiling on her because even with the foulness of her mood that had a set of long fingers hovering over the bubbleguts vial hanging on her belt as if daring anybody to try anything, the old woman was behind the counter of the booth once it was found and happily sold Circe the last two barrels of the vintage she was looking for in exchange for the joint ease tossed in with the fat bag of currency handed over. \n\nThe flinch on her face when Circe practically growled like a feral wolf as a Man approached her to ask a question when she turned around to leave and go find food, a wrinkled hand delicately tapped her on a shoulder and slid a humble bread, cured pork, and cheese plate to her with a filled cup of a lighter wine that what had just been paid for. \"*Perhaps, Milady could go and sit\n\nIn the shade for a bit? Celebrate your success of the day? Then I heard tell the pub up the way had their Friday special and I recall you enjoying their lamb..\" The faintest smile nearly slid into place with the marked concern in the elderly's voice, instead she recieved an inclination of head and Circle went to go put food in her face. If that eased her mood... Perhaps with where she was... A hunt was in order. ||" }, { "author": "Kakia", "message": "——————-\n**Tag:** \n**Song:**\n\n——————-\n\n*A hunt was certainly in order, though not in the typical sense of the word. Kakia sauntered coolly through Dionysus' Revelry, despite her unusual outfit catching a few stray, quizzical glances from the mortals roaming about the streets. It wouldn't be the first time Sin-personified had been too lazy to dress herself in actual clothes, and it sure as Stygia wouldn't be the last time either. In fact, thanks to the tequila-induced coma she'd awoken from 15 minutes prior, the woman still sported her bathrobe and ugg boots. The only indication of effort was the messy ponytail her black locks had been flung into, and a pair of ridiculously expensive sunglasses she managed to steal from the shopping district a week ago.*\n\n*Even the myriad of delectable scents that hung about in the air edged Kakia ever closer to vacating her already-empty stomach into the kerb and channel. Still, the Goddess persevered through the discomfort, armed with the knowledge that Circe was a gifted sorceress and would undoubtedly have a quick fix for this ridiculous hangover. The woman ambled through the thin corridors that meandered between the hundreds of stalls in search of her best friend, ignoring the whispers that followed her every turn she took.*\n\n-\n\n*For as long as Kakia had known Circe, the two had been close; practically inseparable. And there was a very good reason for that. The sorceress was incredibly useful. Talented even. Gifted in the art of making any sort of concoction one could put their mind to. Not only that though, Circe was in tune with her \"Shortcomings\". Unlike others around these parts, who tried to don a mask and hide the more nefarious aspects of their personality, the brunette embraced hers without qualm. In fact, Circe's short temper and even shorter capacity for patience when it came to men in particular, was often the highlight of Kakia weeks. As the Goddess entered the bazaar, she wondered if the woman was still turning her disloyal servants into pigs as punishment? A chuckle escaped Kakia's lips at the very thought of it!*\n\n*Ahead, Sin-personified noticed the ethereal beauty almost immediately, sitting at a table with the help in tow. Wherever Circe went, mortals' eyes followed... And not for the same reason as Kakia. No, the famed woman was as shockingly stunning as she was dangerous and practically every human in this joint was either desperate to be with her or alternatively, be her. Another benefit of hanging around the woman, Kakia was never short of jealousy to feed on with Circe around.*\n\n*The Goddess of Sin did not wait for an invitation to sit at her table, and instead, positioned herself on a seat directly opposite. A devilish smirk contorted upon the woman's lips as she slumped down into the confines of her chair, her shoulders sinking further into the bathrobe so the excess material neatly covered her ears.*\n\n-\n\n**\"Tell me you got something to help stave off this hangover, Cece? Please, I can barely look at the light right now.\"**\n\n*Dramatically, the Goddess suddenly reached out and snagged the shirt of a waiter that had been casually walking past their table. With a strength that did not belie Kakia's frame, she managed to force the human to stand directly between herself and the buttery afternoon rays. Her make-shift shield initially yelled in protest of the man-handling, though upon realising who had subscribed him to this duty, he quickly put a sock in it. With the sun now obscured, Kakia slipped her glasses up atop her head and diverted her attention back to Circe. Only then did she realise the scornful look adorning her friend's features.*\n\n**\"Oof, that face. Something has happened, I take it?\"**" }, { "author": "Circe", "message": "Despite the severely foul mood she was in that was killing any hint of an appetite for the cheese tray in front of her, as Circe looked up the faintest hint of a smile Might have tried to appear as she spotted Kakia circling through tables and blatantly ignoring the looks she was getting. Her best friend was always good for amusement or the worst kinds of mischief. Propping her chin on one hand and observing the goddess as she flopped into a chair across from her, a brow quirked at her question. \n\nBefore the answer could even leave her lips, Kia had yoinked the nearest server to serve as her personal sunshade and drew a reluctantly soft chuckle from somewhere in the region of her belly. It might have been rustier than a piece of uncoated metal left too long near saltwater, but it was there. Turning her head to look around and see if Renna was still nearby or if the old woman had gone back behind her counter, glances were caught and the signal for a glass of lemon water given with a slow nod. Once the frosty glass hit the table in front of her, as a thank you an extra tip slid under Renna's fingers before she went back to her counter. \"Of Course I have something for that hangover, but what in the hell did you drink so much of Kia?\" From one of the ever present pouches on her hip, two small vials were pulled. One a glowing purple, and one with an iridescent shimmer to it. Once the two liquids were dripped into that frosty cold glass, they mixed and turned a dark maroon. \"Drink this, preferably before it gets warm. It'll kill the headache and settle your stomach.\" \n\nReminded of why she had to come out and People in the first place, Circe's face went back to being sour. \"Two of my attendants got into the summerwine and killed the only two bottles I had left that were needed for that fucking health potion I've been working on for the last six weeks. And I caught them fucking on the floor of the pantry. My bed's been empty for months now, why the hell should they get a\n\nNy action? Those bitches are cooling their heels in the pigpen. But they should count themselves lucky I didn't turn them into something worse.\" ||" }, { "author": "Kakia", "message": "—————————\n**Tags:** \n**Mentions:** \n—————————\n*Pulling a rogue cigarette out from the depths of her hidden cleavage, Kakia groaned at the question posed by the beauty sitting across from her. The mere memory of the night beforehand caused the Goddess to practically dry-retch, though any obvious displeasure was masked by the smoke she stuck between her lips. Thumbing the sparkwheel of her lighter three or four times over, in a desperate attempt to ignite her vice, the woman only found solace once the durry's end ignited. Instantly, her tar-black soul was bathed in the Holy Spirit of tobacco, the opaque plumes of nicotine causing her makeshift sunshade to cough relentlessly.*\n\n**\"Erh sink et wers Terquiwa,\"** * Kakia managed to mutter while the dart loosely hung from her lips.* **\"Ter bois frem Crub OShers ma'e ah drnk en mer honer.\"**\n\n*If anyone would be able to piece together the incomprehensible ramblings of Sin-personified; it would be Circe. Though what the Goddess failed to elaborate on, was the fact the \"Drink made in her honour\" Had been a brutal concoction of Tequila laced with a killer amount of Polmos Vodka. They'd aptly named the revolting beverage, \"Vanquisher of Vice\" And so far it had been proving rather true to its moniker. Kakia wanted nothing more than to crawl into the depths of oblivion and slumber for an eternity. Thankfully, though, salvation could soon be found at the bottom of a chilled glass. Without any hesitation, the Immortal downed every last drop of the ominous maroon liquid offered up by her friend. And sure enough, the potion began to weave its Master's powerful magic within seconds of being ingested. Barely a minute had passed, and Kakia's disposition was already far less pitiful, a haughty burp being rudely executed in the human sunshade's direction. An obvious indicator that her Malevolence was feeling much better.*\n\n-\n**\"What would I ever do without you?\"** *Kakia mused earnestly, finally managing a long, satisfying drag of her smoke for the first time that morning. Afternoon. Whatever time it was.*\n\n*With her thoughts no longer vexed by the discomfort of her pathetic hangover, Sin-personified could focus on the actual issue at hand; Circe's horny, thieving help. While the Goddess' head was normally lodged a few kilometres up her own arse, when it came to the Sorceress and her annoyances, Kakia often felt what she presumed was empathy. It wasn't exactly a pleasurable experience, though then again, neither was having your commodities stolen and your involuntary celibacy shoved in your face. The Immortal smirked jovially upon hearing the punishment that befell the two bastards. It was so petty, so hilariously fitting that the Goddess could only laugh at her best friend's course of action.*\n\n**\"Serves them fucking right,\"** *She concurred, slapping the attendant's thigh that hadn't dared move since he'd been conscripted to act as a human shield against the sun's rays.* **\"See what happens when you piss off an Enchantress? You become the main event at next week's roast dinner.\"**\n\n*Being antagonistic and freaking the mortal population of Olympian out, was an activity Kakia knew would cheer Circe up without fail. Especially if the targets were men, specifically. The Goddess of Vice then took the smouldering butt of her cigarette and without warning, smothered it against the mortal's skin. As anticipated, the mortal yelped out in shock mostly, before deciding he'd definitely overstayed his welcome, racing off to seek sanctuary back inside of the restaurant. Suitably entertained, Kakia reverted her attention back to the matter at hand, her black eyes levelling with the Sorceress's own.*\n\n-\n**\"Is there anywhere you can get another couple of bottles of summerwine? Maybe you could offer a trade for them? Like, you do currently have two pigs you could sweeten the deal with.\"**\n\n*While that suggestion may have solved one half of her best friend's problems, the Goddess knew the second part would be slightly more difficult to assist with. Unlike the general population, Circe had standards that weren't easily lowered. Though still Kakia put her mind to it, mentally flicking through her own private roster of contacts that could assist in the hook-up department. One name immediately sprang to mind, though, the immortal decided to test the waters first. It was the least she could do for both of them, after all.*\n\n**\"You want to vent about your non-existent sex life, or do you want solutions, Cece?\"**" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "Hidden away from human eye is enchanted wineries where gods gather to savor the finest wines crafted by the divine vintners. Each winery is a realm of hedonistic pleasure, with sun-dappled courtyards, flowing fountains of wine, and secret alcoves where gods can indulge in the euphoria of Dionysian delights." }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "A week after his night with Pan, Alastor found himself once more at a place with drinks and too many people. Though, he'd been feeling the after effects of the \"Last one night stand\" For a few days. \nHis brain had concocted a plan, even if his heart screamed and threw it's legs against the floor like a toddler.\nIt would be way worse to lose him another way in a useless sibling rivalry.\nSo the God had to find retribution for himself in something less personal.\nSomething that could distract him. \nAnother partner. \nThe only issue was, Alastor was incredibly choosey. He had types, and prefered to learn them before he took hold of them, like a falcon to a field mouse.\n\nThe God sat at a high table, alone, a drink already occupying his hand. His fingers lazily caressed the body of the glass, amber liquid halfway gone.\n\nThis hunt was boring. \nOne by one, his attention moved over patron after patron, only to break away like an incompatible dance partner to try another angled jaw, or jeweled eye blonde. They were busy, and not intriqued by his mystique or coaxing allure of something darker beneath his pale façade. \nNormally his angled features and the shadows they drew made him stand out against the current of fresh baby jocks and their same chic outfit girlfriends.\n\nHe wasn't even wearing a full suit, rather just a deep green button up with the sleeves rolled with care up his forearms and enough buttons undo to show off his collar bone. \nHis watch-\n...\nMaybe he was too formulated. Not unique, but rather just as plain as some of the other men who were in polos and cut off shorts with sandals. \n\nAlastor was nearly wearing a scowl, taking another swig of the liquor that did nothing other than remind him why he hated bars." }, { "author": "sybil", "message": "*\"Sybil- spsss, Sybil!.\"*\n\nAn arm yanked the petite blonde into a dark corner of Dionysus wineries, a slight moment of panic as she brushed off the hand. Taking a breath of relief when she saw the bright eyed blonde it belonged to. *\"We have a special guest tonight.\"* Sybil rolled her eyes at this, Jasmine always insisted on referring to God's as special guests. Treating them like they were celebrities when they were becoming more common lately, as Olympus and Olympian were torn apart in the wrath and separation of two brothers.\n_ _\n\nYet Sybil continued on, unable to ignore work when a living had to be had for a simple human. Waiting on them hand and foot, as if she didn't want to ask them why they stood by as mortals cried out for help amongst the rubble. \"What are you on about, Jasmine? There are no Gods here.\" Jasmine shook her head and pointed to the alluring man in deep green enjoying watching the people as his fingers danced along his glass in boredom. Sybil's azure gaze studied him in curiosity, a mysterious trance to him that seemed to tease her. Her body wishing to be drawn in by a naturally magnetic presence, but nothing more. \n\n\"Tsk. Stop with your nonsense, Jasmine. He's just a man... And a seemingly lonely one at that.\" \n\nSybil studied him further, her lips setting into a slight frown as she saw something in his eyes that seemed all too familiar. Heartbreak? Yearning? No matter, it left a quiet solace about him that almost seemed full of sorrow. Sybil's feet moving towards him in want to soothe a tempered soul. *\"Sybil.. What are you doing?\"* A hand reached out once more, but the redhead quickly shrugged it off and shook her head in stubborn response.\n_ _\n\n\"What does it look like? I'm going to go talk to him.\"\n\nAn illiterate sound of pure shock came from Jasmine, but she knew better than to stop her once more. Letting the wild curls of crimson fire approach the raven of shadows in quiet contemplation. \n\n\"Penny for your thoughts?\" \n\nSybil set a glass of water before him in offering. Her fingers brushing in nervous energy against her waitress' apron. \"I could not help but notice that your mind seemed heavy. A bit out of character for a place like this.\" Her fingertips moved around in show of the laughter and drunken activities of young mortals and demigods in a tryst of questionable affairs that promised to lead in many different places. It was the environment Dionysus tended to create. Madness in many forms, and the swirling nectar of wine to only enhance. Never something Sybil wished to partake in, an avoidant little thing that tended to go home alone at night more often than not. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "He'd tilted the glass to his lips, giving himself the time limit of the remaining liquid until his leave. \nUntil he saw a figure approaching him - no, it was a halo of flame. Orange hues were light up by the dim lights, and his gaze moved to her before she reached the table. Her determined aura that coated every step she took was enough to have Alastor consider her. \n\nShe did not come empty handed, and the offering of something other than Dionysus' piss was welcome. As much as it left a ruined taste on his tongue from his own thoughts, he paid for it. \n\n**\"I presume you're the penny?\"** He asked, taking up the glass of water and abandoning the short glass. \nShe'd caught him just in time, as there was only one swig left. \n\nAlastor's gaze looked her over. If he was looking for a distraction... Than this was it. He didn't so much as look at anyone else as the young woman motion around, he'd been staring at bad choices and low quality soft core porn for the last hour. He knew what was happening. \n\n**\"Have a seat,\"** He gestured to the empty chair of the table he sat at. \n\n**\"I've nothing but time to think, judge, watch..\"** \nThis was true even in the middle of a war. It hadn't come to the point of where their were elements clashing non stop... Yet. Soon the sea would typhoon, and the heavens would thrust lighting, among a scary amount of other disasterous phenomenon as the Gods went at it. \nThat wasn't something he wanted to think about either. \n\n**\"Though, I wouldn't mind an adorable little copper piece like yourself to ease the strain of such burdens. My name is Alastor. What is your's?\"**" }, { "author": "sybil", "message": "A soft smile spread further across the freckled face as her emerald gaze fell upon the chair before him. \"If you need me to be, I can be a penny, darling.\" The southern drawl of her past pulled on her last word in soft flirtations. Pulling the strings of her apron she placed it in her lap as she gracefully took the offered seat. \"Is it judging and watching you're doing?\" \n\nLeaning forward, resting her chin in delicate fingertips, her gaze finally rested upon him. \"Though it seems you're doing plenty of thinking. You seem... Lost in thought.\" She was careful with her words, cautious to ease into the sadness that seemed to glint in the corner of his eyes. Something she could not quite pin down, but she had seen it enough here. An attempt to try and drink the sorrows away, find a pretty little thing to throw all thought away with into the late hours of the night. An attempt she always dutifully ignored, so what was it about his magnetism that drew her in towards him. Practically asking for trouble as she placed gentle words, and tender focus on this complete stranger.\n\n*\"Though I wouldn't mind an adorable little copper piece like yourself to ease the strain of such burdens.\"* \n\nA blush crept up her neck and painted her cheeks a soft rose like the first of spring's blossom. \"Sybil, my name is Sybil. It's a pleasure to meet you, Alastor.\" She sat up straight to offer a hand in camaraderie. An attempt to hide the obvious blush, and the way his words had affected her so easily. Like a silver tongued snake, she could tell he was trouble, but she did not yet know if she cared or if she would throw caution to the wind for once. Indulge in the environment she had worked for years now, when she should stand and simply walk away. \n\n\"So, Alastor, what can I do to help you ease your burdens? Polite conversation? Perhaps a drinking game or two?\" \n_ _" }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Alastor considered the girl for a moment as she leaned forwards, gazing at him, like she was trying to get him to open up to her - a sort of reverse psychology. It was true that when one stared long enough that a few things would happen in the eyes, but the longer she stared the more his eyes shifted into curiosity. About her. \nThat irritation that she had taken note of before was no longer present, and had transformed entirely, like when a wolf could see a pasture of sheep unattended.\nOfcourse he would hide it. And he would be further inclined to lie as she poked at him verbally. Humans were always insistent to find the sensitivities of Gods' - it made them relatable and not so out of reach of their own egos. \nHer accent wasn't irritating, but perhaps a little put on. A waitress trick, the pinnacle of hospitality. He didn't know her well enough to say that she was faking it. Either way it was cute.\n\nThe tips of his fingers grazed the lip of the whiskey glass, a small smirk tilting up the side of his mouth as her cheeks gained a hue in his compliment. \nWith his free hand, he reached out, taking her's - but perhaps not in the way she'd expected. Her hand was taken in a steady and warm grasp, guiding it to his lips where they brushed along her knuckles. She was soft, and it only continued to serve as a more pleasant distraction for him. \nHe'd been right. \n\n**\"I'm honored to make your acquaintance, Sybil.~\"** His voice was clear, lust sitting underneath her name like lacy lingerie under a business suit. Tantalizing. \n\n**\"Which is your favorite drinking game? If you would mind being considered my company for the remainder of my stay, I'd be glad to play with you.\"**" }, { "author": "sybil", "message": "Sybil could not help but feel a flutter within her chest, a telling tale of amusement as the God before her kept his mysterious allure. His transformation of mood, and shift into curiosity did not escape her attention. He was playing a game, a web weaving around Sybil that she seemingly wanted to be caught within. The darkness in his gaze a temptation all its own. She was not naive enough to ignore the dance she was within, but instead she embraced it. Leaned into it like a woman searching for the right kind of trouble within this night. \n\nHer lips curved into a flirtatious smile all her own, as he uttered her name with the sweetest hint of desire woven into each syllable. \"The pleasure is mine, Alastor.\" Sybil's reply a velvet whisper that matched his in kind. Freckled skin flushed with thoughts that could not be spoken aloud. So easily did he lure her into his spell. Yet so easily did she further embrace it.\n_ _\n\n\"My favorite drinking game?\" Sybil's mind was flustered in his presence, an attempt to think was met with distractions as she felt his gaze upon her. \"I'm admittedly more interested in the company than the game.\" Her eyes sparked with mischief as she leaned in closer, a subconscious need, as the air between them grew thick with anticipation.\n\nSybil's gaze flashed with her own magnetic allure, a hint of what lay beneath the sweet southern belle's mask she wore so often on this job. \"I do have a fondness for a game of truth or dare. It tends to reveal... Interesting fact's of one's character easy enough. A chance to get to know one another... Far better.\" A sly smile at her implication slipped past soft lips, her words laced with a hint of a challenge. \n\nWithdrawing slightly from the haze that was his presence her own fingers danced along the edge of the table. \"As for keeping you company, Alastor, consider it my pleasure.\" The kindness in her words genuine. \"After all, what are gods and mortals for- entangled in history with one another's presence, if not to entertain each other?\" Her voice carrying a hint of tantalizing promise within at the history that was shown far more often than not. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Alastor did not miss how Sybil danced and plucked at the strings of the silken words he spun around her. She leaned in at just the correct moments; a young woman who knew her way around the desires of people.\nBeing a waitress taught one more skill of tongue than most were too quick to take for granted. \nThere were a lot of tactless, arrogant fools in the world. The clever ones could talk their way out of anything. \nOr...*Into* Anything.\n\nIt made him wonder if he was the first God she'd approached this way? Then again, being in Dionysus' area, it was far easier to be open than prudish. Hedonism was enjoyed in bounds here. It was why Alastor chose this bar, after all. \nSkulking the pickings however, might have been done better in darker, seedier area - however Dionysus was as \"Medival tavern\" As it got.\n\nSybil's mention of entertainment made it abundantly clear of her intentions and that she knew what Alastor was looking for.\n\n**\"You are a daring little mortal...~\"** \nThere was a gleam in his eyes that said he approved of her prowess, as he looked over the rim of the glass he brought back up his lips.\n\n**\"I propose we find this game of Truth or Dare somewhere less... Crowded.\"** \nThe placement of the glass was significant enough to state his boundary. \nIt wasn't quite up for discussion, though he'd be further intrigued if she attempted to convince him otherwise. \n\n**\"Does your manager have a policy on being whisked away by a God?\"** \nNot that he cared, but it gave her a fair chance to set things in order - or throw all caution to the wind." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "A legendary establishment that defies conventional time. It is said that once you enter, the revelry within can last for an eternity. Olympians gather here to share tales, engage in merriment, and revel in the timeless spirit of Dionysus." }, { "author": "- Niklas.", "message": "Niklas wore his past lives with a likeness to the scars along his abdomen. Freestanding, distinctive in their length and origin. Hotel rooms became a false sanctuary, and he swam in the current of city streets as if he could navigate them blind. If the sentiment of his life had not been dimmed so early, perhaps it would have been a beautiful thing, to have seen so much of the world. If the portions of the world that he was so well–versed in were not doused in malfeasance, perhaps he could speak of them freely. In his years of experience, he decided that all places were the same. Olympian, however, was sculpted by a product larger than himself. It held an influence that he could not place, and he felt it in each step that he took, heavy on his chest like a burden.\n⠀\nThe city was not like those of Germany's. Gothic castles and timeless cathedrals were exchanged for assorted districts, pledged to the callings of gods that did not show their faces. Niklas had not yet decided if the inhabitants here were as blind to their faith as those in other wedges of the world. The dedication, however, was animated and impassioned. He saw things that mortals did not, and heard the voice that occupied the halls of his mind with more clarity. The voice of a woman, a *Mother*, who spoke to him in whispered puzzled to him since boyhood. He was not so withdrawn here, but he had still been alone.\n⠀\n\nNo matter the city's differences, the fondness of fun was a human trait, and one that could not be ignored. Nor could it be satiated, it seemed— they drank with the madness of Dionysus, and indulged in sin as if their mortality was saintly. He felt less separated from Germany here, in the dullness of a pub. It was easy work. In fact, it nearly felt futile. His arms would often stiffen from remaining crossed over his chest through the hours of the night, eyes dark and tired. Performers, that of which varied in talent and charisma, came and went like the monotony of a revolving door. Niklas put drunkards in their deserving place, and returned to the place by the door which he claimed. On his breaks, he smoked a cigarette in the alley, and drank a glass of lukewarm water to keep his voice.\n⠀\nIt was a night like any other. He observed the regulars of the pub, who tended to sit in their same spots. There were some that stood out as complications, as feasible trouble. Alcohol undid the structure of their smiles and made them frenzied grins. His jaw clenched in their indulgence.\n⠀\nWhen the performer appeared, she stood with a luminosity greater than the pub's dimness. His gaze did not waver, but he acknowledged her differences. Niklas did not know her, but he did not believe that black suited her. It was nearly the only color that he wore, but he was sure that she was destined for brighter, prettier things. For black was a thing of despair, and her eyes were softer than his had ever been. Prettier, too.\n⠀\n\nEntertainers often struggled to rouse a crowd, and trembled beneath its judgment. She made it look like child's play, to get them to love her. Men with beer on their breath knelt to the authority of a woman with beauty, after all. Eyes of muted hazel looked over their faces, and though he was merely observing them, he outwardly appeared menacing. Furthest from the crowds of patrons, he should have been out of the crossfire of their gaze. He expectedly wore black, with a t–shirt that clung to the arch of his biceps. Tattoos crept from the hems, and his skin was surprisingly sunlit. Niklas predicted his concealed presence, until she looked at him. He kept her gaze.\n⠀\nHe blinked, and the tension in his arms absentmindedly weakened. *Was war das?*\n⠀\nThe bar–goers thrived in her joviality. He felt unveiled, but he put the cloak of privacy over his shoulders with stealth. When she began her performance, men and women alike were charmed. Tipsier men stood in the lull of her voice and the shine of her dress, and he became aware of them with the tension of a watchdog.\n⠀\nAbruptly, a lady who was theatrically inebriated approached him. Her dress was a deep purple, and her arms were decorated in floral tattoos. When he glared at her, she smiled. Her lipstick was smeared. \"She's pretty, huh? Do you think that I could be a performer next time, big guy?\" Her arms loosely folded in and pointed to herself. Niklas stared at her with eyes like nails. She frowned before he even spoke.\n⠀\n\"... Try to get home safely, ma'am.\" His voice was foreign and gravelly. It was almost kind, questionably noble, but he cruelly implied the way that her drunkenness was shown in her disheveled appearance. Her frown accentuated, and she returned to the haven of the bar. Niklas returned his gaze to the singer." }, { "author": "-- aurora calicchio. '", "message": "By the time the most recent number had finally come to an end, the bar was positively humming with energy. Gone was the quiet atmosphere that had plagued the room before, the deflated vibes of a group of socially-shy people now swept clean. With one hand parked on the curve of her hip, Aurora surveyed the lively bunch with an air of subtle pride. This was no party and yet she felt as if the night deserved to be danced away on an open floor, pretty glasses of sparkling champagne included. Loud chatter filled her ears, different snippets of conversations entering one and exiting the other. All she knew was that she'd managed to get the people up and engaged, and that was all that mattered to her. \n\nThe hand that held the mic weakened its grip, fingers loosening as she set it back into its stand and took a step away to plop down onto her stool. New faces had entered the establishment at some point during her performance, but she hadn't noticed them at all before. Now, it was a game to try and pick out who had managed to slip in and who had left. Memorizing the audience wasn't a part of her job; but finding potential faces to seek out during a lighthearted segment of the act most definitely was. It was hard to find people who would well-receive playful banter at first glance, but over the months, she'd managed to perfect the skill that came with reading people in a multitude. Somewhat, anyway.\n_ _\n\n\"I have to say, you guys are an amazing crowd! Cheers!\" Leaning down, Aurora picked up her bottle of water and raised it high, a delighted laugh flying from her mouth as the audience went ahead and mimicked her action. An ecstatic *Whoop* Of approval arose from a thick clump of people sitting nearest to the stage, their own glasses dancing in the air like beacons. Standing up, Aurora made her way back to the microphone, her water still held in one hand. Its contents sloshed, the few pieces of ice she'd managed to shove inside now swaying pitifully in their low numbers. \n\n\"Before we near the closer for the night, I think it's only fair that we thank the staff for helping us. Mind you, you guys may not have even noticed it, but these people all came together to give you guys a good experience. The bartenders,\" She began, turning and waving jazz hands at the employees across the room. Under the soft glow of the overhead lamps, some waved, and others called a swift thanks before ducking out of view to return to their work. Swiveling back to her original stance, Aurora squinted, delicate features momentarily scrunched beneath the blinding lights of the stage. With mentally crossed fingers, she waved her open hand in the direction of what she sincerely hoped was the pub doors. Should she be waving in the *Wrong* Direction, she only hoped that whoever she *Was* Waving at was friendly enough to return the misplaced gesture... Even if she couldn't see them. \n_ _\n\n\"And to our bouncers! Thank you for keeping us all safe tonight.\" The waving hand faltered in its movements, the arm carrying it tired by now. It was *Hot* In this building, and already, Aurora's feet were killing her. The thought of kicking her heels off once this was over and jamming them into cozy house slippers was an idea that was steadily growing more and more appealing with each passing minute, but she held steady. One last segment and then she could go. Right? Right. The little burger sliders that the bar had been offering during the show were gnawing at her mind, causing her stomach to practically cave in with displeasure at the fact that she hadn't eaten much tonight beyond last night's meager leftovers. \n_ _\n\n\"To finish off, I really want you all to leave this place with at least *One* New friendship established. That's why... Drum roll, please!\" Soon enough, hands began to steadily pat out a rhythm on tables as the guests peered around, eyes bright with curiosity. When she was sure that they'd had enough, Aurora held one finger up and slowly looked to her left, then her right. *Silence from the crowd.* Lips just a few inches shy of brushing the mic, the singer lightly shimmied her shoulders, dark curls shivering with the movement. And then? She loudly whispered into the microphone. \"We're doing karaoke. Everyone, please locate a partner to sing a song with. It *Cannot* Be anybody that you know. This is a bonding experience! Think girls in a club bathroom, but we're all sober. Well, that was a lie. *I'm* Sober,\" She said, voice returning to regular volume as she watched the people begin to migrate between their tables, some shy, others bold in their quest to find their buddy for the last event of the night. \n_ _\n\nClasping her hands together, she stretched onto her tiptoes to scan the bunch of heads, as if searching for one face in particular. It was a tedious task now that the masses had begun to shift and move about, but in the end, she found *Exactly* Who she was looking for. Sitting on the edge of the stage, Aurora gingerly scooted off and jumped down, one hand moving to straighten her dress up while the other swept stray hair from her face. After a parade of *\"Excuse me, sorry,\"* She finally hauled herself from the sea, coming to a stop right in front of the bouncer she'd spotted from before. She prayed her stomach would maintain the last of its dignity and mute its growls for now. The last thing she really needed was a new *\"That was so embarrassing\"* Thought to dwell on whenever she couldn't sleep. \"Hi! I'm Aurora. And you are?\"" }, { "author": "- Niklas.", "message": "His shift's mundane presumptions were altered by the woman in the black dress, with her honeyed tongue and fetching individuality. The time he had spent under the pub's employment had not been expansive enough for him to faultlessly know what to expect, but there was customary routine. Humans engorged improper doses of vices as if they were expected to be gluttonous, but in recent times had there been a developing apathy. Eyes affixed upon the droning luminescence of phones, with souls that had become vacated by concrete cities and material desires. In a social space, men and women tended to often remain in the smallness of their circles. A drink or two would be had, and very little would follow. Niklas found such a fatuous attachment to it all. He did not know the taste of a life with a surplus of time.\n⠀\nOn this night, unlike others, there were no stragglers. There was little space to be had to one's self, now. If there had ever been distance, there were drifters no longer, with groups blended into one. Each one of them were at her will. Each of them, branded with a smile, except for him.\n⠀\nHis stance had not changed— he stood, arms crossed and still as a stone. Figures that were arched over granite countertops had slithered away to her warmth. The pub breathed and emptied its lungs with them, and there was less and less of a corner for him to brood in with the inflated crowds. Niklas had known men who berated others with curses and weaponry that did not show efforts of persuasion at this woman's level. He would have envied it, but he could not apprehend her triumph, and the heights in which is towered over him. He had been sure that it could only be discovered in the naivety of children. Hers had been pocketed and transported to adulthood.\n⠀\n\nIgnorantly, he presumed that she must not have ever acquainted pain. Her compliments to him instilled nearby glances to his sturdy figure, nodding in newfound appreciation. Drunkards reveled in her sober spirit, and their delicate feelings amplified with her direction. His eyes looked over them with disinterest, awaiting the collective scrutiny to be returned to the stage. It felt stifling, and the room smelt of perspiration and mixed drinks that often spilt and clung to the floor. He wished for the familiarity of a cigarette and the crisp night air. There was a low–cost watch attached to his wrist that he wished to gauge, but he did not. Her production was nearing its final act, and he would leave shortly after.\n⠀\n*\"That's why... Drum roll, please!\"*\n⠀\nHabitually, Niklas glanced from her to various doors scattered throughout the layout of the building. A guest, perhaps. The only thing worth noting had been a man stumbling out of the bathroom door, grappling with the fly of his jeans. It was silence that he preferred, yet it unnerved him here. An impermanent thing, for it was demolished with her announcement. Actively, she persisted to challenge the reservations of mankind. Niklas judged stumbling men as they confidently strode up to prettier women. Some locked arms with strangers in the confidence of booze, and he held his chin high, an untouchable thing. A prop, a weapon. Compliments, propositions, even insults slid from his shoulders in the pub's ferocity. He was not paid to engross himself in their vigor, and he was fortunate for it. Niklas was not receptive to the singer's absence upon the stage until she stood before him, bright even without proper lighting.\n⠀\n\nHe was not used to this.\n⠀\nWith a delayed pause, Niklas stared down at her. She stood only a fraction below his shoulders, and he was sure that her heels were granting her advantages. Her skin was more radiant than his own, and her hair bounced with her step, glossy in the light. In doubt, he had not yet processed why she came to him. Her introduction lingered in the air unattended for longer than it should have. \"Niklas.\" His arms fell from their closed position to imply engagement, but he did not extend a hand for her. The tone of his voice was kinder than it had been to the woman prior, but he lacked mirth.\n⠀\nHe would remember her name, but kept social distance. \"Miss, you should return to the stage. Men do not always keep their hands to themselves here. Do you need...\" Niklas saw it, now. The blended crowds, still meshed and miscellaneous, appeared more uniform by her request. In pairs of two, with some of those pairs glancing to them. Some became stricken with amusement, as if his reservations were an addition to Aurora's theatrics. Men looked at him with envy.\n⠀\n\"*No*,\" He spoke it instinctively, peering down at her. \"Ah... I cannot sing. On the clock.\" Two excuses into one, how convenient. He blinked down at her, as if her wrath of sweetness was more alarming than acts of violence. Niklas felt that it would not be enough to deter her." }, { "author": "-- aurora calicchio. '", "message": "*Niklas.*\n\n** ** The name hung in the air like a heavy storm cloud, and for a heartbeat, Aurora considered entertaining the idea of a little umbrella just in case the pub ceiling cracked in half and allowed punishing rains to pelt the people below. Each raindrop would be a syllable of his name. *Nik-las.* But alas, the place remained as it was, missing any ominous rumbles of thunder. Aurora stuck her hand out, then quickly put it back down and nodded, puckered awkwardly as she continued to stare at Niklas.\n_ _\n\n** ** \"Right, right! I-uhmm...\" Just behind the two, the people who were participating had already finished pairing themselves up, now mingling with the groups closest to them as they waited for their wayward host to get their show back onto the road. Tossing a swift look at the messily aligned duos, then back at the bouncer, Aurora rapidly fluttered her lashes, startled as he immediately blurted out the word *No.* Her mouth opened, then shut, before the corners slowly tilted downwards in the beginnings of a frown. \"Wait, sir, you didn't even let me finish!\" Doe eyes softened past their typical roundness as Aurora pressed both hands together in a pleading gesture. What fun was karaoke if you didn't have a buddy? She'd already sang solo! \n\n\"Please, please, *Please,* It's just *One* Song!\" For absolute emphasis, she put up one finger, wide eyes still beseeching in their quest. The people were waiting. She could feel the burn of staring eyes, searing right through her back like laser beams the longer she stood there in front of Niklas. She needed to do something to diminish his excuse, and *Quick.* But what was there to do? She was working on limited time with even more limited resources. All there was to do was to think, think, *Think.* \n_ _\n\n** ** \"You can even pick the song, but I don't mind choosing if you don't want to!\" Leaning past Niklas, Aurora flashed a bright smile at the muscled man parked just a few feet over from him, his head held high as he watched the crowd shuffle about. He didn't quite seem to notice her until the very last second, hooded eyes slowly trailing down to fix her with an expected look of confusion. The arms he'd crossed over his chest visibly tightened their barrier as the girl continued to stare, hugging himself as Aurora slid up beside him and rose onto her tiptoes. Cupping a hand at the side of her mouth, she whispered something into his ear, hasty glances tossed back at Niklas here and there. Whatever the conversation was, after a few loose nods from the receiving guard, Aurora squealed a delighted *\"Thank you, you're awesome!\"* And spun back to Niklas. Trouble had finally arrived in the form of confirmation from his unknowing coworker. Without even knowing it, he'd managed to set Niklas up. \n\n** ** \"Your friend said that he would cover the doors for you for exactly ten minutes, and that's enough time for two songs! But we're only doing one, so it's okay! That means you'd have five more minutes and some change to have a water break and you know...\" Her hands flailed, as if the answer was just out of their reach. \"... You know... Guarding! Bouncer work! And I promise to talk to your boss if things hit the fan. I pinky promise.\"\n_ _\n\n** ** And with those words, Aurora did just that. Sticking out her little finger, she tilted her head, smile ever present as she watched Niklas, peeked down at her finger, then back up at him. It was at that moment that she realized that he may not have even known what a pinky promise was. Or maybe he'd been taught, but had forgotten. Either way, that all didn't matter. \"You hook your pinky with mine and then it's a promise!\" She cheerily explained. In the recesses of her mind, she'd already begun to browse through her mental catalog of songs that fell just under five minutes. Plenty were three minutes. Four at the most. They could do this!\n\n** ** ( ||" }, { "author": "- Niklas.", "message": "The rejection to her proposal came from him harshly, like a justified verdict. It came as no revelation when others were discouraged from speaking to him. His eyes were sharp and stiff, and his body habitually retreated to walls and corners, even when he was out recreationally. Niklas seldom spoke unless he was directly addressed, and when he did, there was very little to say. The man's tone held the tips of daggers, and his mind felt placed in a foreign, outlying land. It would be a trek to unearth his truths, and in such a material world, people found complexities to be distasteful. It did not pain him to be alone, or to be unforthcoming. If that was the way of life, then he would settle for it.\n⠀\nShe gaped up at him with a delicacy that made him second–guess himself. The woman had not been fazed by the mere frigidity of his facade. Her frown, one thing he might have predicted, was passing just as he eyed it. Niklas looked at her hands, planted together in the urgency of her plea, then back to her face. He did not show any sign of feeling other than his average reticence, but the winding cogs of his mind sped. Had she not been disheartened by his refusal? It would be simpler for her to turn on her heels, to retreat to a sociable face. Would it not? She stood in his space without faltering, and he was both irked and stumped.\n⠀\nHer persuasion was doing little for him, even with the individual finger shoved his way. If he chose to deny her a second time, he could not be certain that she would surrender. Her eyes held the sugared sweetness of an animal's, without corruption or ill–intent. It felt unkind to tarnish it— even for a man such as himself, with gargoyles and phantoms that perched on his shoulders. The eyes of patrons were unsure and heavy, and he ghosted over them carelessly.\n⠀\n\nInternally, Niklas was concocting a rejection of her offer in a way that was as gallant as he knew how. To place blame on his responsibilities as a bouncer felt appropriate, but he knew that it was his spirit to blame, a soul which lacked vibrancy. Her smile kept a devoted consistency, and he questioned if her cheeks ever ached from her own exhilaration. He felt it moving away from him, pulled to another— his head turned to the fellow bouncer to his right. There was a relief that lightened the overcast of his eyes. She decided on her own that she might have better chances with the other man that remained, he thought. From what Niklas judged from the man, he agreed.\n⠀\nHer hand curled over the man's ear, and their eyes infrequently glanced in Niklas's direction. Yet again, she was overstepping and disarming him. Her delighted squeal was his war–horn, and his arms went slack at his sides, as if he knew what was to come. His defeat.\n ⠀\n\"My *Friend*, huh...\" Niklas looked to the bouncer who was feigning a dimming smile, avoiding the glare that was putting a hole through his flesh. He would remember to humble the bouncer the following day, or reciprocate the gesture with an act of retribution; whichever came first. The mention of two songs reeled his head back to her direction, and he was hushed before he could speak. To imagine himself belting out a single song felt like an entire production, and his displeasure was visible in a grimace. She had produced a solid claim, one that he could not shove aside. There were no excuses.\n⠀\nIf he disliked the job for other reasons, he might have submitted his resignation in the form of a bruised blow to the bouncer's jaw. Niklas grinded his teeth, unclenched his hands, and submitted.\n⠀\n\n\"One song. That's it,\" He spoke carefully, as if he was a father ridiculing his cunning child. Niklas took a small step forward, withdrawing from the familiarity of the wall. A pinky promise felt stuck in time, wrapped in a veil of guileless sentiment. It reminded him of the little purities of his past, and he blinked the memories away. Slowly, his hand came up, and his pinky finger looped around hers. Her skin was warmer than his, and much softer. Once it was done, he tore from her touch.\n⠀\n\"Pick a short one, then.\" He nodded to the stage, encouraging her to lead. An ingrained need to protect still hovered over his ambiance, watching the movements of others and their distance from her.\n⠀\n||" }, { "author": "-- aurora calicchio. '", "message": "** ** For a short time, Aurora wondered if her efforts would be fruitless, vain in their work. The hand that hovered between she and Niklas remained in place, pinky slowly beginning to tremble in its endeavor to keep still. Her arm had begun to ache, and again, her stomach rolled itself over in its displeasure at the utter lack of attention that'd been paid to it. Eyes falling back to her shared half of the promise, Aurora pursed her lips. Just how severe of a blow would it be should she be sent back to the stage empty-handed? She didn't want to think about the idea, but it was one that was steadily surfacing. Already, she'd begun to scribble on the mental drawing board in the back of her mind, jotting down major Plan B, C, and D. Each included jumping ship in one way or another, but each with different degrees of their own. She could strap her life jacket on, walk the plank, and-\n\n** ** His finger hooked itself around her own with a reluctant tug. However, reluctant or not, the action had been made. *The promise was done.*\n_ _\n\n** ** \"Oh, yay!\" Aurora exclaimed, her hand diving down to take the one Niklas had wasted no time dropping. Before he knew it, the two of them were marching their way through the scattering of tables and guests, the stage their shiny beacon just on the horizon of swiveling heads. Only once did they stop, and it was merely for Aurora to request the speakers be open for connection from her phone. From then on, the whole way to their destination, she chattered away, conversation flowing from her end as if the two were best buds who hadn't seen each other in months. *\"Do you like your job? How long have you been working here? Do you know Katy Perry? I think we should do a Nicki Minaj song. Can you rap?\"* Social anxiety, big as it was in the eyes of others, cowered in a sad little pile at the feet of a girl who spoke as if she knew the world from its sparkling new face to the old age it stood at now. She need not fear the silence when she could fill it on her own. If Niklas had somehow managed to find an appropriate time to slip in a response to Aurora during one of her short breaths, it fell on deaf ears, wasted in the gentle instrumentals of the pub as both came to a stop. \n\n** ** Releasing Niklas' hand, Aurora reached for the rails of the staircase and cleared the entire thing at a brisk pace that shouted *Enthusiasm.* She'd secured a karaoke partner; one that was willing to let her choose what they would sing. One song, he'd said. One said, she'd promised. The deal would be upheld. So the song itself didn't matter, right? \n\n** ** *Right.*\n_ _\n\n** ** \"This is such a good turnout,\" She said, bringing the mic closer to herself again as she resituated herself on the stage. She needed to do this and do it *Fast* Before her ten minutes were up. Eyes raking their way through the partners as if she were shopping, Aurora did a speedy head count, then waved at the audience. \"So how this will work is two teams will come up to the stage and have their sing-offs, then rotate with the next round of participants. The people who aren't actively singing will place their votes on a tally, and we'll count them all at the end. Can I get a yeah?\" Tucking her hand just behind the shell of her ear, Aurora canted her head to the side to listen. Her requested *Yeah* Was thrown back at her in a flurry of volumes, and she nodded vigorously. Pointing out to the first pair nearest the stage, she waved for them to join she and Niklas. \"My name is Aurora, and this is my karaoke partner, Niklas. We're singing Starships.\" The proverbial band aid ripped off, there was no room for any argument from Niklas as the crowd erupted into applause as the chosen pair mounted the stage to join them. Tonight, *They were rappers.*\n\n** ** ( ||" }, { "author": "- Niklas.", "message": "Niklas did not go without her warmth for long— as if she had done it times before, she took his hand, guiding him with the ferocity of a beacon. He was stricken by uncaring waves, thrashed about in the proximity of the cliffside, and she would be his beaming watchtower. Aurora strode with purpose and distinctive strength. At the wonder of her being, he found himself meandering away from his vigilant gaze of the surrounding crowds and only to her. It was an unspoken, undetermined thing, why he did not allow his hand to fall from hers. He could anticipate the presence of her smile even as he stared at the back of her head. Niklas was teetering between the dread of his circumstance and the perplexing nature of her spirit.\n⠀\nThe high–spirited questions pelted a wall of stone. There was little opportunity to answer them, for she spoke with her ongoing thoughts, and he kept his mouth shut. The two of them stood among a plethora of varied clatter, and it was only her voice that felt comprehensible. The steps taken were stirring the scent of her perfume, and it seized his nostrils viciously. Her hand was comparable to the sleekness of satin— was it feasible, for a woman to be so deprived of physical fault?\n⠀\nNot many took interest in him. Not in ways of such normalcy, he thought. His mysteries brought questions to those that looked closer, and they were met with his mental stronghold. It overwhelmed him, to be fascinated by her relentless curiosities. He thought of his brother, and how he might have liked her. If his brother were here, perhaps Niklas would be graced with a smile. The thought nauseated him, and it fell away as they halted.\n⠀\n\nHe, in exaggerated leisure, took the stairs after her. She uttered to the microphone as he stood upon the stage, and his eyes observed adrenalized patrons with reticence. He was not debilitated by anxieties, rather a resting face of disinterest. Still, he was not immune to the excess of attention that stifled him. Niklas inhaled, holding it for one, two, three, four— until it ached, and he was compelled to accept his disposition. With stiff steps, he crept closer to her, yet the shadows were more fond of him than her. Replicating the stance of a bodyguard, he crossed his arms, listening.\n⠀\nHis name felt unfitting to be shouted, and his stature felt misplaced at the attention of a stage. *Starships*. Of course, he would not know it. The man paid little mind to the pair that were occupied with the stairs to join them, and he kept to Aurora, hoping for her ability to overshadow him. The moon was no match for the glow of the sun.\n⠀\n\"Du bist ein narr, Nik.\" He whispered in a gritty murmur to himself, and accepted his fate." }, { "author": "-- aurora calicchio. '", "message": "** ** From start to finish, Aurora couldn't help but to wonder just how she'd managed to rope herself into this type of situation. It was as entertaining as it was perplexing, and when the music finally finished, both pairings grinning at one another from opposite ends of the stage, she finally took the time to look over at Niklas. Throughout the majority of the song, he'd mumbled his way through, staring down the words on the pub's backlit screen as if they were a sacred text of some sort. She hadn't expected him to know any of it. Not the name, not the artist, not the words, *Nothing.* But with any luck, nobody in the audience would've noticed the slur of unintelligible words. Not the mumbles, not the random, inconsistent pauses. \n\n** ** Amid the smatter of applause, the hoots and the cheers of mouths worked by drunken brains, Aurora waved at the remainder of the audience below, then took a single step back. Back into the soft shadows that crowded the edges of the stage; back into the minors. Her hand reached for Niklas' again; tentative this time, the eager demands of her tugging arm gone as it'd been previously. No longer was it their turn to brave the group of faces and their thousands of wide, watching eyes. \n _ _\n\n** ** \"Thank you for singing with me,\" She began, throwing one final peek over her shoulder at the center of the stage as a new pairing mounted from the sides. Waving as a duo slipped past she and Niklas, Aurora nodded towards the stairs that the others had just climbed. It was a silent invite; a question, unvoiced, that asked for his own input. \"I didn't want to do that by myself. I could've asked for someone from the crowd, but I saw you and you just looked like you could use some cheering up.\" A hand waved towards the strip of a bar, dimly lit and partially active and guests continued to trickle in and out of the establishment. Some were drawn by the promise of food, good drinks, and fine company. Others were there and then they were not, swiping their cards, collecting their drinks, and disappearing just as quickly as they'd come. The food that she'd so badly craved earlier waited over there, just out of sight behind the uneven line of turned backs. The food, a reward that she was absolutely *Positive* That they'd earned, and yet, the time didn't seem to permit. Job restrictions didn't seem to permit. She'd begged for ten minutes; had clung with fierce determination to the request. To the small escape of interacting with someone who didn't care how she looked onstage. Ten minutes that still stood, but had begun to dwindle faster than she'd been ready for. The sand in the hourglass was reducing itself to mere grains. *How much more time did they have?*\n_ _\n\n** ** \"I just wanted to see you smile because it's a Friday and it's supposed to be a good day for everyone.\" Aurora clasped her hands together, large eyes darting back at the stage as the next round of guests began to sing. From what she could hear, the Backstreet Boys had made a clean comeback via a new modern take. *'I Want It That Way.'* She would listen if she had half a mind to dwell on the song. Instead, she was counting down in her head. Was the man in front of her keeping track too? She didn't know; wasn't sure if she *Wanted* To know. There was a split fork of a path of choices on what Niklas keeping time could've possibly meant. One: he valued his job and strived to do it right. He was keeping track of the invisible clock to make sure he didn't overdo his brief relief from guarding the doors. Two: karaoke had been the worst moment in his life, and the more cycles the minute hand did, the closer he was to being able to call it quits within bounds of their pinky promise.\n \nTruth be told, option two was sour in comparison to one.\n \n** ** \"I don't want to keep you if you have to go now. I know I asked your friend to cover for ten minutes. But did you at least smile? Once, maybe?\" A hint of hopefulness colored the brunette's words as she asked the question. She'd tried her best. Perhaps he would look back on this moment and realize that he'd forever hate Nicki Minaj, but Starships were meant to fly, despised or not.\n \n** ** ( ||" }, { "author": "- Niklas.", "message": "It would not be his most favored memory, but there had been worse.\n⠀\nNiklas knew of too much misfortune to voice irritation into the exposure of the microphone, and his ears were not capable of burning sheepishly. The music, chirpy and zealous, did not suit him. No matter the unlikely appearance of it, it was occurring. Eyes of brown followed quick–moving words, and his tone remained a neutral mumble tucked beneath his lips. Her voice acted as his guide, and it eclipsed the darkness of his shadow. She was as soothing as the mourning dove, perched near one's bedroom window. It must have been a treat, to be gifted in the ways that she was. Surely she could hum her own lullabies and put herself to sleep.\n⠀\nIt ended, to Niklas's surprise, abruptly— he anticipated that it would feel longer, yet it did not. His brow was fixed in a stiff, unamused furrow, yet the cogs of his mind turned with softer emotion. He preferred the hideout of the corner, the crutch of a wall, but in her company did he feel alarmingly mundane. The approval of the pub's patrons did nothing to him, but they waned into a blur. It was only her touch that took him to the darkness that he was most acquainted with, his head lowering to look at her. Even here, she was shining. He did not let go of her hand, but did not do much to hold it, either. A sign of indifference. He cared more than he knew how to show.\n⠀\n\n``\"... You just looked like you could use some cheering up.\"``\n⠀\nIt was another tally to the record of remarks regarding his low spirits, and yet it struck him. Niklas gave her thanks a quiet 'mmh', but the deep reverberation of his voice caused it to remain noticeable. He followed her, and his hands fell by his side, thinking. Why did she care? For a man that was adept in detecting the worst in others, he could not find it within her. She spoke with a cadence that was not so enlivened— softer, a little intimate. The somber after–party with few attendees. Out of habit, he had been keeping time. He promised her a fleeting fraction of it, as if his time was such a valuable thing to barter. He knew that it was not. Tick, tock. The seconds were slipping by him. He felt aware of it now, more than before, more than he had been on that damned stage.\n⠀\nHe was listening to her words, and carefully. There was a focus in his eye that did not always show itself to others, and it quietly translated to a genuine concern. Aurora spoke and filled the silence, but Niklas relished in it, unsure of what to say. With her gesture, he was attentive, and stood by the bar alongside her. He was familiar with the smell of the food and the taste of the drinks. The clinking of glasses was a monotonous sound, and he was falling into it.\n⠀\n``\"Did you at least smile?\"``\n⠀\nHis face threatened to break from its placid restraints and glow with tender nobility. Who, other than the seraphs of god, spoke in such a way? He blinked, and he was sure that his uncertainty was visible to her, lips twitching.\n⠀\n\n\"It is fine. My 'friend' can wait.\" His lips lifted into a dying half–smile. It was all that he could give her, but it lasted for enough time to see— it was the silent approval, the fulfillment of her hopes. Niklas partially leaned into the countertop of the bar, nodding for her to request something for herself. He did not know what this was, the way that he was looking at her; the way that he looked to crowds as if they could steal her away.\n⠀\nThe silence felt comfortable. The stage's music was not so perceptible when it was not her's, and now that it was still, there was a fatigue resting below his eyes.\n⠀\n\"I'd been thinking it was a Thursday,\" He spoke, and his initial tone of strictness faltered. The statement was delayed, but it meant something. \"It is a better day, now.\" Niklas edged it with the subtlest of wit, hoping to please her; his hands folded over one another, eyes peering to the calluses of his knuckles. The man looked up at her, searching her face.\n⠀\n||" }, { "author": "-- aurora calicchio. '", "message": "** ** At his words, Aurora's hands interlaced themselves in front of her, finding a cozy resting spot against the lower half of her torso. There came a flutter of relief, and she fought down the urge to crack a big smile. After all, she didn't want to spook him back onto the strict time limit that had once existed before. A part of her didn't know *What* To do with the new time. She'd planned everything beforehand when she'd been running off of limited minutes, restricted seconds, but now? An open expanse loomed. Possibilities, opportunities, ideas. \"Do you want something too? There's...\" Aurora cleared her throat, pointing at the overhanging television screen of the bar. Digital, it slowly streamed each option, focusing on tonight's burger and fries specialty before it inevitably hopped back to the football game that had been playing. The scores were greatly unbalanced, and she had a feeling that by the next time the menu had cycled around and came back, the game would be over. \"They're selling these really good burgers tonight! I could smell them from the stage and I was literally *Starving.* I'd feel weird if I was the only one eating.\" \n_ _\n\n** ** Aurora's honeyed voice trailed off as she eyed Niklas with a look of hope. All the words in her head had managed to fizzle themselves up into dry shells, weighing heavy on a clumsy tongue as she twisted to glance at the bar, then brought her attention back again to the blond. It was far easier to see him here where the light cast a gentle glow on his stern face. Features, hard and fixed, and yet, she was glad that their brief round of karaoke had managed to draw a smile, even if she hadn't been able to see it. Now, shadows lightly washed over his jaw, the strong hint of a five o'clock shadow adding to the depth of his face. Serious eyes, dark and stormy, set just beneath brows that'd been furrowed not too long ago. He was an enigma, but a pretty one at that. Pretty like the night sky when rain had finally cleared, leaving behind the scent of fresh grass and the clarity of bright stars. Another flutter — surely, still brought on by relief's shot — and she untangled her hands, leaving them on the edge of the countertop as she listened to the sound of hoots and cheers for just a heartbeat. Yet still, her eyes lingered, and she wondered for a time if this was what it felt like to watch a shooting star split the clouds.\n\n** ** Maybe, more or less.\n_ _\n\n** ** \"Well, surprise, surprise! Welcome to the weekend!\" Aurora offered a display of jazz hands, then quickly dropped them back onto the counter. For her, talking was as easy as A B C, and yet she'd never felt more tongue-tied in her life. Public speaking would've never left her ears burning like this. She had half a mind to believe that she'd somehow gotten a fever and was falling gravely ill, but logic proved that to not be the case. Those eyes were watching her. \n\n** ** Again, her stomach flip-flopped, practically turning a cartwheel around itself. Logic, logic, logic. It was simply the efforts of fighting to figure out things to say before the silence stretched for too long and he decided it was due time to take his leave. When he left, the night would go back as it was, and she'd finish her job. Routine. *Standard.* She'd clock out and hand her badge back to the manager. Wave goodbye to guests who'd long since forgotten the buzz of the night, rushing to refill their empty glasses and numb their already foggy minds. She'd drive home, and she'd kick her heels off; left in one direction, right in the other. Last minute texts would be checked, and then it would be lights out. Routine. *Standard.* Do it all again, *Repeat.* Niklas had managed to throw a wrench of change into her schedule. Something modern, something *New.* She despised mundane realities, and it was all she could do not to cling to the newfound swap with nails embedded deep. Ten minutes were no longer on the drawing board, but eventually, a time limit would be reached. She simply hadn't a clue when.\n\n** ** *Don't be silly.*\n_ _\n\n** ** \"Do you come here often?\" A pause, and her words registered in her own head. Snapping finger guns at him, she nodded. Smooth, girl. *Smooth.* \"I mean, of course you come here often since this is your place of work! How long have you been employed here, I meant?\" Smooth as smooth could get. Aurora quickly faced forward, staring wide-eyed at the bartender across from her. The man paused, ginger hair flopping into his eyes as his expression slowly twisted into confusion at Aurora's gaze. \"Is water free?\"\n\n** ** ( ||" }, { "author": "Hercules", "message": "Dionysius. The very thought of even entering a pub dedicated to a god of excess and a lack of self-control was enough to make his skin crawl. They were half brothers. Son's of a god that made sport of tricking mortal women and leaving behind a horde of bastards they paid no mind to. Some were special, such as the pair of them, but he would not put it past their shared father to use the bacchanalia of old as a hunting ground for his next victims. Yet, if a demigod wanted answers, he could not linger in the shadows forever. \n\nThe afternoon brought with it a typical summertime shower. Something brief yet intense that made it reasonable to dress in a way that would hopefully not draw too much attention to one's self. Then again, he had perhaps dressed down too much for such a grandiose establishment. The very look of this place felt opulent in the way he could only consider with Olympian divinity. Privately, as he had traversed the short walk from the front door to the bar, a fantasy of running through the support structure to bring down the building tickled a pleasant spot in his mind. What stopped him was the others drinking their afternoon away. He was not like them. Hercules did not believe in collateral damage. \n\n\"Honestly,\" He mused, \"Few here would likely recognize me.\" Those more knowledgeable about the children of the divine might have discerned his prominent jawline and light blue, yet intense eyes. Others might have noticed that mortal men were not typically built like him. The height, or perhaps the width of his shoulders, was just too perfectly proportioned. Everything about him hinted at divine favor, and he had hoped it could all be concealed by the application of a beaten baseball cap he'd purchased from a street vendor.\n\nOf his many strengths, subterfuge and disguise were not among them. While he had thought centuries out of circulation would have done much, it only served to make him stand out that much more. His was the sort of face one might remember if they had seen him around town before. The brown bomber jacket he had arrived in would have helped, maybe, if he hadn't taken it off the instant he'd entered the climate-controlled room. Now, only a white linen shirt with buttons left undone and rolled sleeves kept a sense of modesty. \n\nThe iconography in the decor made his palms itch. The walls were adorned with symbols of the gods, a stark reminder of his own lineage. His right hand grazed down the leg of his faded denim, searching to soothe as his steps carried him across the distance. The eyes his presence attracted were passed off as nothing more than idle curiosity, though it felt to him as if the room had gone silent. Perhaps he was imagining things. The sound of his own heartbeat in his ears must have faded out of the ambient noise of idle chatter in the room. Surely, he had not done anything to blow his \"Cover\" Within the first twenty seconds, had he?\n\nThe bartender, an older, seasoned chap, looked at the broad-shouldered brute and spoke in a reserved tone. \"Good evening, sir.\" His voice only hinted at his age. Perhaps he was in his fifties, which might have made one underestimate him. Yet, Hercules noted a keen wit in his stare. It was the sort that said he would have already had his regular drink in the works if he had recognized him as a regular patron. Perhaps it annoyed him on some level that he could not perform such a task for a stranger. Hercules did not bother to dwell on why that might have been the case. \"How may I be of service to you this ugly afternoon?\"\n\n\"Bourbon.\" The second the words left his lips, he knew he had come across as curt. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat before adding \"Please\" As a form of apology. Somehow, he thought Maribel might have enjoyed that. Why his thoughts drifted to the human at this random point, he could not explain, but he decided now was not the time to dwell on a practical stranger. Instead, a leg swung over the top of the stool, allowing him to lower his weight upon the cushioned stool. His dominant hand brushed through the jet-black hair, casting stray water droplets from the summer squall to the floor behind him. \n\nA bourbon on the rocks was not complicated. A single ball of ice was dropped into the glass, and the older human reached for a particular bottle. \"Doesn't have to be fancy.\" Hercules corrected. \"If it's from Kentucky, it'll be fine.\" This caused the man to pause and then look at him before he shifted gears to grab a bottle of Maker's Mark. Hercules nodded with approval and watched as the amber liquid was poured, two of his large fingers deep. \n\n\"Thank you.\" He said, this time without forgetting his manners. His grasp curled around the glass, taking a first quick swig to steady his nerves and ease the anxiety that came from being within the den of an enemy." }, { "author": "Odysseus", "message": "His fingers tapped along the plastic of the door's armrest, moving with the beat of the music that somehow made its way out of the stereo. It was likely that Conner didn't exactly like what was playing at the moment, but to be honest, they were both in the kind of mood where the music playing didn't matter as long as it wasn't loud. That kind of introspective, negative mood that soldiers found themselves sinking into in between battles, when fate hung over them and death was only a couple hours away from striking, hanging on a nearby branch like an overstuffed raven. With a sigh, the back of Odysseus's head hit the headrest, as green eyes fluttered closed and he thought back over the last month of his life.\n\nThings were so much more hectic on the surface than they were when he was alive. Well, perhaps that was a lie, but the downtime seemed a lot more active between the major events. Before, there would be days of literal nothing, just sitting around, dueling between soldiers' tents outside the walls of Troy. Even during his journey home, there would sometimes be days or weeks at sea with nothing to do but stare at the horizon and talk about the usual subjects. Now, in the modern world, there was so much *Stuff* To do in between the action that it felt like he wasn't even able to process the important things that were happening to him. The action itself happened, and then a million minor things happened in between, and none of it was being written down into his head, despite the new wounds and sores clearly etched onto his skin. Ody hadn't even recovered properly recovered from their last little mission before they were out and about again, cruising through Olympian and looking for something else to fuck with.\n\nFor a good moment, the ancient hero just tried to get everything *Straight*, a difficult thing to do in his head... And no, that was not a gay joke, it was certainly more a reference to his predilection to constantly jump between subjects without ever finishing one out to completion. His thoughts were always half formed, the gist enough for Odysseus's brain to have before it was bored with the process, but he needed to force himself to slow down for a moment. To actually process things that had happened.\n\nJust a little over a month ago, he'd been in Elyisum, existing as all heroes did when they passed... In a relatively boring paradise. There were mock bottles, and sports, and feasts, and books, and whatever someone might want to pass the time with, but there weren't any stakes. It was impossible to die, to get hurt, to have anything resembling consequences to your actions. It was, to a man like Odysseus, something similar to a Sisyphean torture. But he stayed there, and chose that fate, because of his beloved's desire to be safe with all their family and to enjoy eternity together. That was, until rumors started filtering into the paradise of what was happening above. Some spirits enjoyed getting out and exploring Hades every once in a while, taking a trip through the Fields toward the Styx, shouting across at the waiting spirits for the most recent events. Ody had done it himself a couple times, though not for a while... At least, not until he heard tale of a war brewing.\n\nThat was when his tolerance for the boring was drawing close to the end of the wick. Stuck in Elysium, while the gods were fixing to put together a war that could end everything humanity had built up in their distant absence? That would absolutely not do, not do at all, but the iron grip that Hades had on the afterlife meant that that there was practically no hope of him getting out to *Help*. Help humanity survive, fight back, finally let those selfish and thoughtless fucking gods know that maybe, just maybe, they had to be fucking careful about who they were fucking with.\n\nThankfully, he wasn't the only one who thought he'd be helpful. A little whispered word here and a little handshaking there, and Athena had persuaded Hades to let a certain strategist out of the cage again. So, in a matter of days, he was yet again dropped into the world to find his way toward helping humanity's effort to survive. It didn't take long at all for him to figure out that he'd need to find the guy people were calling Alexios and, well, apparently the Fate's agreed, because it was very hard to ignore the man getting attacked by a very obvious supernatural threat just down the road one day. After that, helping secure supplies, weapons, safe houses, get away vehicles, all sorts of supplies and goodies before finally, finally getting involved in working directly against the gods? It had been something akin to going directly from the longest marathon in the world into an Olympic sprint race without any preparation at all.\n\nAnd Odysseus was fucking loving it.\n\nSmile spreading across his face, those bright and mischievous green eyes fluttered open as he tilted his head to look at the driver of the truck. \"I know ya don't really think this a good idea and all, but trust me...\" Ody began, shifting his whole body onto his side, resting a hand under his head as he stared at Conner, \"If we just drive around long enough, we're bound to run into someone I know!\"\n\nGesturing vaguely out the window, the old King of Ithaca surveyed the people walking about the streets of Olympian. \"Hades is playin' the center just enough to get as much as he can outta all parties... And probably given people the reassurance that when they die, they'll be safe from the war, at the very least. The fact he let me out is pretty evident of that... And it means he's open to doin' it in the first place, which means the likelihood that some other people are already out and about is pretty high. Not to mention those that never died in the first place that I might be able to nudge and wiggle into bed with us!\"\n\nOdysseus knew that Conner wasn't particularly a fan of... Well, wishy-washy plans like this one, not to mention his own more relaxed attitude when it came to fighting gods and wars and the such. They were in different parts of the journey, so naturally they'd have different perspectives on things, that was a natural part of it. He was just happy he'd been able to convince him to give the plan a chance, even if it was just for an hour or two. \"Like, for example, we have no clue where Herk could be! Any big fella, like that one maybe, cou-\"\n\nThe hero stopped in his tracks at the exact middle of the word, almost leaning over Conner to look out the window, then switching to leaning over the console of the truck to stare out the back window as they passed a massive man walking into Dionysus's pub. \"No, even I wouldn't be that fuckin' lucky...\" Ody muttered to himself, before glancing back over his shoulder at Conner. \"... You thirsty?\"" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "A lively marketplace where revelers indulge in the finest wines, exotic delicacies, and enchanted libations. Shops and stalls showcase an array of divine spirits, and the air is alive with the sounds of laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses." }, { "author": "Kakia", "message": "———————————-\nTag: \nSong: \nTW: ||General miscreant behaviour, sexual references, adult themes, gross shit. Soz||\n\n———————————-\n\n*Beating the devil's tattoo, Sin Personified languidly consumed the last remnants of nectar from out a coupe glass not technically her own. Crossing one exposed leg over the other, the Goddess' tongue chased the droplets around the inside of the cup's rim, slinging her head so far back that the ends of her ebony curls lapped at the top of her tailbone. She dangled the glass up in the air by its elongated stem, gently shaking the vessel to ensure she slurped every last dew of sweetness from it. Table manners were superfluous; satisfaction, however, was imperative.*\n\n*The original owner of the savoured beverage was a middle-aged mortal, now slumped over in his chair on the opposite side of the marble table. He was barely conscious of his company anymore despite having caroused liberally in her unruly influence for the better part of an hour. Evidence of his gluttony was everywhere; seven whole chicken carcasses, the bones picked clean of their succulent flesh along with six empty bottles of expensive liquor and two baskets now completely bare of bread. If any doubt remained as to how much the human had gobbled down on his own, one only needed to check his jowls, glistening with the unmistakable sheen of chicken fat.*\n\n*Kakia's lustrous lips pulled upwards, contorting into a malevolent smirk as she set the glass back down on the table, satisfied there was no more joy to be found there. Rising from her seat, the Goddess adjusted the haughty gold straps of her dress before moseying on over to her mortal associate's side. For a single tense moment, the woman stood ominously still over the compromised human, glowering with a look that wasn't so easily discernible to the average passers-by. Though as swiftly as it appeared, it disappeared. Kakia's features softened before leaning down to whisper something directly into the man's ear.*\n\n————————\n\n**\"I hope you had as much fun as I did, Alexander. You know, my nights with you are always so memorable.\"** \n\n*Of course, Alexander wasn't lucid enough to comprehend the sweet-nothings of a Goddess, yet still, the raven-haired beauty lingered close by as if expecting a coherent response. Like an obsessive child covetting her favourite toy, Kakia stared intently as the man's chest rose and fell in a debilitated manner. Though as the silent seconds continued to pass, it became more and more apparent that this particular one was broken.*\n\n**\"Bugger.\"**\n\n*Sighing in tandem with the realisation her entertainment for the evening was no longer operational, the Goddess tilted her head to the side as she proceeded to cautiously stroke the mortal's inflated cheek. Delicately, Kakia collected a sample of congealed grease along the full breadth of her index finger, before placing it unashamedly into her mouth. The residual jelly seemed to dissipate as soon as it came into contact with her saliva, though the salty, lukewarm and gritty aftertaste remained palpable for a few moments longer. By all accounts, such a display would have been deemed utterly repugnant, though any manner of indulgence was considered precisely that; repulsive. A pity too, that lesser beings did not understand real honesty and truth were not always as beautiful as the sonnets described them being.*\n\n————————\n\n*Leaving Alexander to enjoy his drunken haze alone, Kakia ventured into the crowd of Bazaar revellers, weaving her way through the mass of bodies that were swaying to the 102nd Dithyramb of the evening. It only served as an egregious reminder that she would need to pay Dionysus himself a visit soon, though such pragmatism would be swiftly flung to the wayside as something familiar emerged in the Goddess' periphery. Immediately, the woman pivoted on her heels to confirm what her eyes had apparently recognised. Sure enough, there he stood, in all his glory, and even more strangely, above the tides. Agog, Kakia could hardly believe the immortal had survived his father's rebellion, let alone the spiteful, surly attitude of a Nemesis scorned.*\n\n**\"Triton?\"**" }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "Triton, the once-revered God of the Sea, found himself wandering the winding cobblestone streets of the Intoxicating Bazaar. The marketplace, known for its decadent offerings, pulsed with the energy of revelers indulging in the finest wines and exotic delicacies of the sea. Shops and stalls overflowed with spirits, their aromas mingling with the sounds of laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses. Yet, amidst this lively backdrop, Triton stumbled along, his aura dimmed by despair and intoxication. His hair, long and wavy, tumbled down past his shoulders, the deep chestnut of his locks complemented by the soft sunlight that cast a gentle glow on his surroundings. His facial hair was kept to a medium stubble, framing his mouth and jawline with a scruffy look. His attire consisted of a buttoned-up shirt in a muted shade of green. His shirt's sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, revealing forearms that hinted at his physical strength. Paired with this, he wore slim-fitting black pants. His grip tightened around the neck of a half-empty bottle of red wine, its contents sloshing with each step. The flush of alcohol painted his cheeks a slight ruddy color, contrasting the somber cast of his cerulean eyes. It was here, under the lanterns, that Triton grappled with the twin specters of heartache and curse.\n\nThe curse of Persephone, cruel in its poetic justice, haunted him: **\"You will find yourself in lonesome agony as all those whom once found love for you will no longer find your company tolerable.\"** As if her words were woven into the very air, each interaction with the bazaar's merry inhabitants reinforced this grim reality. Conversations dwindled when he approached and laughter ceased; it was as if everyone either wanted to avoid him or antagonize him. Nemesis' rejection only added another layer of torment. As he watched couples share whispered secrets and friends toast to eternal bonds, the sting of isolation was particularly sharp. With each step, Triton's demeanor grew more petulant and his movements more erratic. He cursed under his breath at passersby who steered clear, sensing he could be dangerous, and at one point, he brandished his wine bottle like a trident, causing a nearby group of women to scatter with giggles that sounded both merry and mocking.\n\nThe bazaar around him seemed to swell with joy, heightening his sense of alienation. Musicians struck up a lively tune, and the crowd responded with an uptick in cheer. Triton, with a heavy sigh, continued his drunken meander. At last, he found a quiet corner, far from the heart of the bazaar. Here, the shadows gathered, and the noises of celebration were a distant echo. Triton slumped against the cool stone of a deserted stall, the bottle of wine slipping from his grasp and rolling away, its remaining contents trickling into the cobblestones. The silence Persephone had promised enveloped him, and in this unwelcome solitude, Triton closed his eyes. He envisioned the ocean's depths. It was in this imagined retreat to his underwater sanctum that Triton found a semblance of peace, the pain of the curse momentarily soothed by the phantom embrace of the sea.\n\nThat's when he heard his name. He looked up to see one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen standing before him. He squinted, trying to put a name to the face. It took a moment, but then he said, \"Kakia? With a grunt he stood up, a crooked grin causing the corner of his lips to upturn. Despite his inebriated state he looked good. \"Long time no see. What brings you here this evening? Would you like to grab a drink? Come on, I know a place that makes great cocktails. I just needed a minute alone to clear my head.\"" }, { "author": "Kakia", "message": "———————————-\nTag: \nMentions: \n———————————-\n*Suspended in the humid Olympian air like the wretched stench of wet dog after a storm, Kakia caught whiff of it almost instantly. Unadulterated indulgence. Her nostrils flared in recognition, saliva collected on the underside of her tongue as she ventured closer to the handsome Sea God as if he were the finest cut of steak, cooked to her liking alone. How rare it was, to have an Immortal in such a compromised position without any prior provocation, yet here Triton stood; well-groomed and well-lubed... Socially, anyway. The Goddess' grin sheened with a pearly-white malice as she sidled up next to the intoxicated man, her aura immediately enveloping his burly figure, shielding his mind from any semblance of restraint that may have lurked in the undercurrents.*\n\n**\"Propositioning me with a good time? How could I ever refuse?\"**\n\n*Her hand coyly gestured for Triton to lead the way, though his drunken orienteering wasn't really necessary. Sin-Personified had watched a million poor, unfortunate souls lay waste to their dreams and ambitions in every establishment that graced Dionysus' Revelry. The rowdy streets that lined this corner of Olympian were intrinsically carved into the Goddess' mind. A dark map plotted along a path of destitution and corruption; a sinner's paradise. She could still taste the mortal's tears shed in her name, washed down the gutters along with every morsel of hope that may have remained. Delicious.*\n\n-\n\n*Kakia allowed the God of the Sea to take charge, following close behind as the two ventured towards the cocktail bar. Her onyx orbs followed the creases in his shirt, barely veiling the chiseled physique underneath. Of course, more nefarious thoughts had plagued her mind in the seconds that passed though they were swiftly interrupted by a single aggravating thought; Nemesis. Invisible lines had long been drawn around those the Goddess of Vengeance had been intimate with, though it wasn't for any moral reasons so much as it was for the sake of Kakia's continued existence. Lost in the many interactions of \"But-what-if\", the woman nearly forgot to grant the God further fodder for conversation.*\n\n**\"If you're looking to clear your head, you've definitely come to the right place. Everyone else around these parts is in the same boat...\"**\n\n*As soon as the word left her mouth, Kia pressed her lips together in muted revolt of her own ridiculous pun. The point still stood, however, mortals and Gods alike came to this place to avoid the qualms of reality. While the Goddess of Vice was no different from the masses, her motives were far less innocent.*\n\n**\"...Forgetting is much easier when it's aided by alcohol.\"**\n\n-\n\n*Heels clipped rhymically along the cobblestone as the two ventured down one side street, and then another. Turning two or three more corners before presumably coming to the joint Triton was guiding them to, Kakia's brows furrowed as she took stock of the bar and its patrons. Had she been here before? It seemed familiar; quaint. Her stare immediately cut to the counter, trying to determine if she had slept with the bartender as the pair found a vacant table to sit at. Despite the distraction, Sin-Personified made herself comfortable, before resting her chin upon the heel of her palm, glaring intently at the man now sitting opposite her.*\n\n**\"We don't have to talk about whatever is going on inside that brain of yours. All I need to know is, is this going to be a Long Island Iced Tea kind of night, or an Old Fashioned?\"**" }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "The lively bazaar, full of revelry and good cheer, became more muted as a backdrop in Kakia's presence. She had a way of centering herself and becoming brighter as the world dimmed around her. It was almost as if Triton could see her aura, a dark halo of doom and misery beckoning him to her. His head swam with the alcohol, his mind dulled but intrigued at what the night could be. No one had ever overestimated himself more than Triton, who even now thought he would come out of all of this on top while Persephone's curse grinded him into dust. But for all of Triton's emotional vulnerabilities, not to mention his inebriated state, he still had his wits about him. He knew *Exactly* Who Kakia was – that was one of the reasons he was so excited to see her – but he also knew the dangers involved. She was sin and vice and misery wrapped up in the alluring package of a beautiful woman, the most dangerous of all predators. He smiled, more to himself than to her, as if thinking, game on. After all, what did he have to lose? He had already lost everything! The breeze ticked up, blowing his wild hair all about as he gestured for her to follow.\n\nTriton cast a long shadow, even with his wings clipped. Mortals may have felt vaguely hostile towards him, but they nonetheless stepped aside as he cut a path through, his godly eminence emanating all around him like a protective shield. For even cursed, has he not plumbed the greatest depths of the sea? Tamed the tide and communed with great whales? His was a history of ocean mastery, for a time with the Goddess of Retribution herself on his arm. One could forgive the man for dismissing his current troubles in the face of his own majesty. \"This way,\" He said, almost a command, his voice a rich baritone, sure of himself and only slightly slurred. \"Everyone is in the same boat, yes, but what troubles these mortals suffer pale in comparison to the burden we gods bear. Just as high as we can fly, so too that much lower we can fall.\" It was precisely this haughty attitude towards humanity that had gotten him in trouble with the Goddess of the underworld. Triton was more like his father than he cared to admit.\n\nOnce they were seated at their table he ordered them two Old Fashions, as well as two Modelo Negros. Now he leaned back, stretching his legs out and crossing his ankles while placing his hands behind his head and regarding her silently for a beat. \"What brings you here, Kakia, to Dionysus' little slice of Olympian? I suspect you've already ruined someone's night to warm yourself up,\" He grinned crookedly; it was easy not to think about Nemesis when he had someone just as gorgeous sitting across from him. \n\nWhen their drinks came he handed his card to the waitress and told her to keep it open. Then he raised his glass. \"Salute.\" Triton knocked his drink back in a few gulps and then reached for his beer, but didn't open it yet. \"You smoke?\" He produced a hand-rolled cigarette from behind ear. No telling what exactly was in it. \n\n\"I wanted to skip past all the foreplay and just come out and ask whose side you're supporting in this war, but you know what? I'm not sure I care anymore. The war is fucking boring. I'm much more interested in what color panties you're wearing.\" With that, he lit the tip of the cigarette and inhaled the black smoke into his lungs before exhaling it from his nostrils in a steady stream.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Kakia", "message": "———————————-\nTag: \nMentions: \n———————————-\n\n*Words weren't really necessary when responding to Triton's first accusatory question, posed right before a selection of alcoholic beverages arrived at their table. A carmine smirk, perfectly misaligned, coiled upon the Goddess' lips as her inky orbs pandered upwards to meet the Ocean's own. The lingering look exchanged between the pair validated his casual conjecture, though any further details on the matter would remain a mystery as the waitress scurried away with the God's credit card in hand. Kakia was under no misapprehensions about how the righteous viewed her modus operandi, though that was merely a reflection of their own ignorance. Sin was the unequivocal truth, waging a holy war against the facade of morality many in the world were forced to don.*\n\n*Mirroring Triton's gesture, Kakia raised her own glass into the air, as some of the liquor sloshed out over the rim in response to the sudden movement.*\n\n** \"To the Sinners! May their cups never be empty!\"**\n\n-\n\n*In one fell swoop, the Old Fashion disappeared down the Goddess' throat, her expression remaining unperturbed despite shooting the potent cocktail in full. Discarding the empty cup to the side, Kakia then reached for the neck of the beer bottle as her focus returned to the company she kept. Despite his obvious inebriation, the dark immortal was partial to the way Triton's navy blues unashamedly drank her figure in. Though there was something nefarious lurking in the depths of his deposition that Sin-personified sensed but couldn't quite put her finger on. A peculiar repulsion conjured from seemingly nothing vexed the Goddess' in an instant, like a fleeting 'ick', one that even she had trouble ignoring. Curious.*\n\n*Any further thought on the topic, however, was interrupted by the offering of a dubious hand-rolled smoke and a question that would have set Nemesis on a casual killing spree. Kakia sniggered nonchalantly at the pass as she leaned back further into the confines of her chair. It wasn't even the most grotesque thing she'd heard that evening, but it curdled in the pit of her stomach like spoiled milk. Perplexed, the Goddess started connecting the invisible clues together with a learned precision, and while her assumptions remained hypothetical, there was an inherent recognition that these pangs of aversion were likely the result of curse. A powerful one. Fortunately for the God sitting across from her, Kakia had dabbled in the repugnant since birth, so her tolerance was tempered far better than the majority. Besides that, though, his lusty rhetoric beckoned to the most primordial aspect of her psyche; the desire for power.*\n\n-\n\n*Through the smoky haze exhaled from Triton's nostrils, the Goddess of Vice grinned menacingly, the cap of her beer being flung over her shoulder for some pathetic mortal to pick up later. After taking a heavy swig of the brew, Kakia wiped her mouth along the back of her forearm, and leaned in closer to the Ocean's master. As she did so, her left foot slipped out of the heel she wore, and teasingly ascended the young God's shin, pulling his pant-leg upwards with a gentle pressure.*\n\n** \"Whatever would your Daddy think, if he knew how you truly felt about his little rebellion?\"** *She cooed, almost sweetly. Her head subtly tilted to the side causing her ebony locks to splay out like shadows upon the tabletop before them.* ** \"I bet he'd be quite upset, no?\"**\n\n*As her caustic words spilled forth, the Goddess' sable gaze shifted to the illuminated tip of the cigarette, precariously dangling from between Triton's fingers. Carefully, Sin-personified extended her hand out, wrapping her claws around the Sea God's wrist to take control of it. With delicate direction, Kakia rotated the immortal's grasp so the butt of the smoke was only a few tantalising millimetres away from her lips. Edging closer to the filter, the woman stopped short, briefly glancing up at Triton with a devious glimmer.*\n\n** \"Why would I be wearing any at all?\"**\n\n*Leaving that hanging amidst the grey hues of tobacco mist, Kakia took a long draw of the nicotine, allowing it to fill her black lungs until even the monoxide itself gasped for the relief of oxygen once more.*" }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "The air was thick with the scent of exotic spices—cinnamon, cardamom, and saffron blended with the earthy undertones of fresh herbs and the sweet fragrance of ripening fruits. Stalls in the distance were draped in colorful silks and satin, each one a small universe of unto itself, selling everything from rare incenses to handmade trinkets that gleamed under the warm glow of oil lamps. Beneath their feet, a mosaic of cobblestones, worn smooth by time, reflected the golden hues of lanterns that swung gently in the evening breeze. Music drifted through the air, a mix of lyres and flutes playing with the distant beat of drums. \"To the sinners,\" He murmured, raising his glass. Triton's lips twitched upwards into a half-smile, a silent acknowledgment of the dark currents that flowed between them as Kakia knocked out her drink in one go.\n\nTriton's smirk widened into a full grin as he leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking under his relaxed weight. His eyes danced with an edgy glint, reflecting the dim lights of the bar as he observed the Goddess of Vice across from him. With the smoke curling from her lips, her demeanor seemed to challenge the sanctity of the mundane around them, drawing him deeper into the game they played. \"Oh, I don't know about that. Our relationship is stormy, my support nominal at even the best of times,\" Triton mused, \"He's a real asshole.\" He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, creating a casual intimacy between them. His gaze lingered on her a moment longer, savoring the artful provocation of her gesture with the cigarette. \"You know, there's something liberating about throwing caution to the wind... Especially when it means stirring the waters as you do.\" His voice dipped lower, taking on a husky quality as he spoke of rebellion and freedom before lifting the beer to his lips for another drink. \"As far as secrets go,\" He continued, leaning in closer, his voice now a whisper, \"They do make for the most delicious kind of currency.\" His eyes locked onto hers, intense and unyielding. \"But then, you're no stranger to the currency of sin, are you? I wonder what secrets *You're* Harboring inside of that twisted mind of yours.\" He paused, letting his question hang in the air like the smoke that surrounded them.\n\nIn Kakia's company he could almost forget about Nemesis, about Persephone and his family and all of the troubles weighing him down. But something gnawed at him, an incessant little itch he couldn't help but scratch. Why had she shown up now? Of all the times they could cross paths, she just so happened to come across him when he was at his lowest, alone and feeling vulnerable? And oh how quickly she had made him feel important, charming and attractive... Suddenly, it all felt entirely contrived to the sea god, which put him on edge. Was this a set up? More likely, it was Kakia doing Kakia things, sniffing out someone she could take advantage of. It was like waking up out of a dream, only you were inebriated. His jaw tightened and he forced a smile, taking another drink.\n\n\"I'm going to need confirmation on the status of these panties,\" He said with a crooked grin, finishing off his beer, \"Otherwise, I'll just be thinking about it all night.\" Probably her intention, he mused, feeling like the smartest guy in the room. \"To be completely candid with you, I'm not sure how much longer I'm staying out. I need to get back up to my hotel room, take a shower, and unwind. I've been out and about all day.\" He smiled innocently, finishing his beer. He motioned at the waitress for one more round of old fashions, and then to close out. Kakia's time was running out." }, { "author": "Kakia", "message": "—————————\n**Tags:** \n**Song:**\n\n—————————\n*With a single, torpid exhalation, the tobacco miasma thickened between the pair, as the kohl outline of Kakia's almond eyes pierced sharply through the cloud of smoke. The immortal's scathing evaluation of his own father caused a flicker of a smile to form upon the woman's features, but perhaps not for the reasons her company may have presumed. Having been around for nigh on an eternity now, it never ceased to amaze Kakia how willingly the Gods were ready to criticise each other. Though she supposed loyalty had always been a particularly fickle thing to harness around these parts, especially when considering the calibre of parenting had set the bar to \"Devouring your children'' as a middle ground. In Poseidon's muted defence, however, his actions had not always been so... Uninfluenced.*\n\n*While the Sea God jeered about the secrets Kakia undoubtedly kept, they only caused Sin-personified to smile sweetly, propping her elbows up onto the table and interlocking her fingers so her chin had a place to rest. Leaving his pervasive question hanging in the silence for a few moments longer, the Goddess' gaze locked onto Triton, darting from side to side, as if trying to determine what angle he was playing at here. With the tips of their noses merely a few tangible inches apart now, the stifling proximity still offered no answers that satiated the woman's curiosity. There was something sinister lurking in the depths of Triton's soul, something that he seemed hellbent on protecting by any means necessary that even deflection had been employed as a viable tactic. A pity really, Kakia sighed sympathetically.*\n\n-\n**\"I rather like to think I'm not so mysterious,\"** *Her words were whispered, laced with a candour that seemed oddly out of place when spilling forth from the Goddess' own mouth.* **\"Whatever you may have heard about me and my particular skill set, Triton, I can assure you, my only currency is truth.\"**\n\n*Her dark eyes levelled with the opposing God's own, before she tentatively took her thumb and delicately wiped away the remnants of beer that glistened on the man's bottom lip. Amidst the throes of the intimate exchange, Kakia inhaled deeply, a shudder corralling up her spine as she allowed her hand to linger against his skin. Triton would never know how exquisite his lust tasted, but the Goddess would have described it to Homer in great detail, if he had the chance to add it to his collection of infamous works. Slowly, she withdrew her touch long before he'd recognised what just occurred.* \n\n** \"You know, most of us tend to suppress the more nefarious aspects of our personalities because we have to. We're all bound, whether we want to believe it or not, by the expectations that others force upon us. Frankly, I just always found that to be some kind of bullshit,\"** *She pulled away purposefully, taking another slog of beer before continuing,* ** \"All I have ever wanted is for others to be free of those shackles. To be true to who they are. Who they really are.\"**\n\n-\n*The sudden shift in her company's disposition was palpable, for while Kakia embodied the very worst of the human condition, she was a master of perception and persuasion. Triton was acutely aware that he was dancing with the proverbial devil now, a luxury most of her mortal prey did not have the pleasure of knowing beforehand. Though while he may have been able to resist her initial advances, how effectively he could fight his own primal urges, especially while under the influence of alcohol, remained to be truly tested. Kakia was not worried though, because ultimately, she would get what she wanted regardless of the form it came in. Lust, wrath, sloth, gluttony; to her they all tasted the same and even if the Urchin thought fighting his compulsion was going to rob her of that opportunity, he'd be sorely mistaken. Sin was an endless buffet, and the Goddess had her fork its the hide.*\n\n**\"If you want any confirmation, I suppose you'll just have to take me home.\"**\n\n*Kakia's malevolent grin returned in tandem with the proposition put forward. What would the God of the Sea do now?*" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "Stretching across Dionysus Revelry are the Vineyard Gardens, where divine grapevines laden with succulent grapes weave with a canopy of greenery. Olympians seeking respite from the fervor of revelry stroll through these enchanted gardens, where the air is filled with the heady aroma of ripe grapes and the subtle memories of the god of wine." }, { "author": "Alexios || Conner Donnelly", "message": "*Of all the places you can strike . . . Why the vineyard?*\n\nIt had been the first question he asked himself before others could do it for him. In the grand scheme of things, the Vineyard Gardens weren't very important. They supplied the cities with wine too expensive for the average person to afford, and they held no strategic significance to the war. Why then, would it be the very first target of Alexios's campaign to strike the gods' pride? \n\nThe answer was simpler than one might imagine. While the vineyard wasn't a military target, it was still valuable. Filled with security, but still not as heavily guarded as other, more important locations. To Alexios, it would be a soft target. A point at which to jump off the cliff and dive right into the deep end of the pool. From there, his targets would become more impactful. More important. \n\nHe couldn't deny that it would also be satisfying to take the gods' fun away. \n\nFor this mission in particular, Alexios didn't need many people. He and Jared were a good enough team to take care of this one their own - he as the blight upon the fields and Jared as the bodyguard and getaway driver. Alexios would be vulnerable when using his power, and he needed someone to fend off attackers should the security be alerted to what they were doing. \n\nAs they drove up and came to a stop near an isolated edge of the field, Alexios turned to look at Jared and give him a pep talk. \n\n\"If you stay near the fence, you'll probably only feel some mild nausea. I should be far enough away that it doesn't have much of an affect on you.\" He paused, looking around the area for any signs of trouble before turning back to Jared. \"Once the field is dead, I'll be in the open so just drive out to pick me up when you see me.\" \n\nIt was a plan they had both been over several times, but it never hurt to reiterate expectations again." }, { "author": "Jared", "message": "Of all the places you can strike . . . Why the vineyard!?\n\nIt was the first question Jared asked when Alexios had suggested this ridiculous plan. Jared knew from experience that the wine produced at Dionysus' vineyards was of the absolute highest quality and what the hell had wine ever done to anyone anyway? If anything they should just steal as much wine as they could and distribute it evenly amongst the people. You know. For morale. Alexios hadn't seemed to understand this argument so, naturally, they were gonna destroy the damn vineyard.\n\nPrepping for the mission had been simple enough. The place wasn't exactly Fort Knox and if Jared and Alexios couldn't handle a few rent-a-cops and some grape vines then they should just call this whole rebellion thing off.\n\nThe drive up to the vineyard fence had been uneventful, most of the guards were situated around the central buildings and the fence would be more than enough to keep out your average mortal. Too bad that didn't apply to either of them. \"Yeah yeah you'll do your weird plant voodoo and I'll pick you up after. I'll make sure nobody messes up that pretty face in the meantime.\" He smiled and blew Alexios a kiss as his friend got out of the car. \n\nAs Alexios disappeared into the rows of grapes Jared turned up the radio and began to follow the fence around to the front to the property. This wasn't part of the plan but Jared just couldn't resist grabbing some of the good stuff while they were here. The price was about to skyrocket after all. \n\nAs he approached the guard post he reached into the back seat and produced a briefcase that he had brought along for just this occasion. He dropped it onto the passenger seat and focused on the contents for a moment. He didn't bother opening the case, he was confident that it was now full to the brim with good ole American currency.\n\nWhen he pulled up to the security checkpoint a rather surprised looking guard approached the window. \"You lost friend?\" Jared smiled at him and t\n\nUrned the radio down. \"No I'm right where I need to be. Just got a little work I need to get done before the boss gets here in the morning.\" The guard didn't look convinced.\n\n\"I'm gonna need to see your pass key.\" The guard said, reaching towards his radio. \"Oh silly me. I got it right here.\" \n\nHe grabbed the case and revealed its contents to the guard. \"I think you'll find that everything's in order." }, { "author": "Alexios || Conner Donnelly", "message": "Jokes and banter were always Jared's style - something that Alexios appreciated because it balanced out his own seriousness and brought much-needed levity in a lot of serious situations. While he might not have had much of a reaction, there was still plenty of amusement lurking underneath his stoic expression - some of which slipped out when people least expected it. His lips twitched at Jared's voodoo comment, but he gave him an eye roll when the kiss was blown, and took that as his cue to get out of the car. \n\n\"Give me ten minutes,\" He said through the open window. \"You'll know when I'm done.\" The vines would be dead and drooping enough to reveal anything - or in this case, any*One* - standing in the middle. It would be easy to see who the culprit was, and a quick escape would be needed.\n\nPatting the top of the car, Alexios stepped away and turned to focus on the task at hand. He hopped the fence and disappeared among the vineyard, surrounding himself with plant life. He could feel the growth below his fingertips, his skin tingling each time a vine grazed his skin as if begging to be given his power - the power of new, healthy growth. Unfortunately, the vineyards wouldn't be getting the best treatment that morning.\n\nPurposeful steps took Alexios to the center of the gardens where he stopped and took a deep breath. Blight on this scale would take a lot of his energy, so he was depending heavily on Jared to be back in time. \n\nMaybe he should have brought Esmeray along instead. \n\nWith one last look around - checking to make sure there were no innocent bystanders caught in the wake of his great and terrible power - he closed his eyes and released his blight. The attack moved like clear ripples in the sky, and it appeared as if a strong gust of wind washed over the garden. Plants blew outward in all directions, shaking as if terrified of their fate. In seconds, the garden started dying - every plant, flower, leaf, stem, and root began to brown and shrivel before dropping flat on the ground. Soon, the entirety of the gardens was a barren field of dead vines, and Alexios stood alone at the center. \n\nThere were shouts in the distance as guards became aware of the treachery. One even broke away from the building and began to charge at Alexios, brandishing what looked like some kind of baton. Exhausted, temporarily mortal, but still standing, Alexios braced himself for a fight, putting up his fists." }, { "author": "Jared", "message": "The guard took the case full of money with shaking hands. He looked up at Jared in awe and the demigod just gave him a wide grin. \"Make sure you spend it quick. Never know what could happen if you wait too long.\" The guard just nodded and hit the button to raise the automated bar that was blocking Jared's path.\n\nHe hit the gas and drove past the main building and straight towards the storage areas in the rear where he knew they would be storing the barrels while they aged. He pulled right up to the front door and hopped out, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Alexios hadn't finished killing all those innocent grapes just yet.\n\nSatisfied that he had at least a few minutes left he reached for the door and yanked it with enough force to break the lock that had been holding it closed. \"Heeeeeere's Jared!\" He was disappointed that there was no one around to marvel at his wit. \n\nHe walked inside and made his way over to the closest rack of barrels. He pulled one down, his demigod strength making the act seem much easier than it should have been, and laid it on its side. Then he grabbed another and, using his foot to roll the first one, started making his way back towards the car. He managed to jam one in the back seat, fully blocking his view through the back windshield, and was using bungee cords to hold the trunk down since it couldn't close over the second one he had stuffed back there when he heard the first shouts. \n\nHe looked up and realized that Alexios was definitely done and that the on site security seemed a little miffed. Confident that his prize was stable enough he jumped into the car and started speeding towards his friend. As he sped past the guards on foot he saw that one of them was running at Alexios with a baton and he turned on the headlights which blinded him for a moment and caused him to stumble. Then Jared ran him over.\n\nHe slid the car to a stop and shouted at Alexios through the open window. \"Get in loser! We're going drinking!\"\n\n||<" }, { "author": "Alexios || Conner Donnelly", "message": "It was times like this when Conner wondered why he brought Jared along with him anywhere. Standing in the middle of the dead vineyard, alone, it was obvious who the culprit was and his friend was nowhere to be seen. As a demigod, Conner could have easily taken out a few guards, but as a temporary mortal, he might have been able to take on one at a time. Unfortunately, there were three running his way. \n\nHe was just about to turn away and run in the opposite direction, but a flash of headlights silhouetted his frame, and he realized who was driving up behind him. Relieved but also somewhat annoyed, Conner turned and held up his arm to block the bright lights from blinding him. That's when he saw Jared run over one of the guards. \n\n\"Are you—fucking kidding me?\" Conner rarely cussed but it sprung from his mouth as he rushed toward the now injured guard who was screaming in pain and rolling around on the ground. He could hear Jared shouting from the car, but he ignored him in favor of reaching the man and kneeling at his side. \n\nThe guard recoiled away from Conner, who refused to allow him to get too far by placing his hands on his uninjured shoulders. The man's leg was twisted in the wrong direction, and there was an obvious bump in his spine that wasn't supposed to be there, so he didn't have a choice but to lay there and let Conner help him. \n\n\"Easy, this will only take a second.\" Behind him, the other two guards were getting closer, but Conner ignored them in favor of using his other ability. He felt around for the injuries and closed his eyes, absorbing the pain onto himself as a faint, glowing white light appeared under his palms. The guard watched with fear in his eyes, until he realized that his injuries were healing. \n\nConner finished as he became lightheaded, crying out in pain from feeling the man's broken bones as if they were his own. His eyes rolled back as he collapsed on the ground in pain and exhaustion." } ]

[ { "author": "Calliope Winters", "message": "***Red and pink hues greeted Calliope as she stepped into the Nectar Bar near the lounge of Eros's Enclave. Though she was never one for being out so late, she was feeling a bit spontaneous. Since living in Olympian she had made very few friends, confining herself to her father's forge most of the time. In her spare time, she remained in her room reading or listening to her favorite songs. It was a quiet life she lived, yet also a complicated one. Things had improved with her father... But her trust for him wasn't completely there yet. She was unsure of him still, but she was trying her best after her outbursts towards him. She had left a note for him that she wouldn't be home till much later in the night. The normally shy woman of twenty one wished to try something different for once.*** \n\n~\n\n***In an instant, she regretted her decision to do this. She felt out of place amongst the crowds of people, even more so when eyes lingered her way. Many were dressed to impress, she felt almost too underdressed for this. Having decided on a pair of her favorite black jeans, with one of her more revealing tops in her own opinion. A corset style that tied in the front, the bust somewhat of a low cut. Black lace detailing ran along the bodice to her sleeves, which were purely made of lace. Calliope had decided to sport jewelry of her own creation, a gold, ruby necklace with its matching pair of earrings and a small ring she wore on her right hand. Her blonde hair falling in soft, natural waves down her back. Which she immediately tucked behind her ears out of her own nervousness. She wore small bow heels that did little for her short stature, maybe adding half an inch to her height. All in all, it was a far cry from her usual daily wear. And she was feeling a bit uncomfortable in it.*** \n\n~\n\n***Calliope shook her head, willing herself to approach the bar. Swiftly weaving between people, finding herself towards the corner of the bar where there was less of a crowd. Soft music playe\n\nD in the air, a mixture of romantic songs that ranged from sweet to explicit. Her green eyes scanned the crowds, women and men flirting with one another who would either make out or leave for more private affairs. She wondered if she truly picked the wrong bar to be at, but there was no turning back now. She sat upon one of the stools, ordering one of the drinks the bartender had to offer her. Callie hardly ever drank, and that meant she didn't drink at all. She tapped her nails against the bartop while she waited for her drink, observing all that were at the bar. Once her drink arrived, she swiftly took a long drink. Enjoying the sweet taste that filled her mouth and made her taste buds tingle. It wasn't long before she finished it, ordering yet another... And another...*** \n\n~\n\n***What Callie failed to understand was that she was a lightweight, after only two she began to feel the buzz of the alcohol thrumming through her. The third only intensified that feeling. She felt much more confident, bold even. Searching for something unknown in the variety of people that hung about. Green eyes glossed over slightly, she stood a bit unsteady from her stool. Gaze lingering... Searching for someone of interest. Why she was doing this? She wasn't entirely sure herself. Callie had never done this, it was a first for her. At least she had her phone safely tucked away in her pocket, in case she would need to call her father. She certainly wasn't going to be driving home, hence why she took a cab here. She planned to have fun, all she needed now was to find some company who would indulge her a bit.***" }, { "author": "Marco Vitali", "message": "Learning the city was as much as a necessity than it was a want. Marco didn't have a long history of going out to bars, preferring to stay in and drink with a small number of company, one or more, but never more than three. \n\nThough, seeing the venue was much more important. His gaze has lingered high in the corners of the club, taking in the decor and style that was created in his father's honor. \nThe two of them had only met a couple of times since their first time out in the plaza, but Marco was already a man in his prime and could do some investigating of the mortal side on his own. It was something he was used to, anyways.\n\nAfter being stopped by a few very excited people - those who had mor energy for strangers than they knew what to do with - he made his way to the bar. \nAt first, Marco didn't see the entirety of the people present, having kept hos head a bit down as he approached for a drink. \nBlonde in a flash of light caught his eye to the right of himself, finding there was a young woman much closer to him than he'd previously noticed.\n\n**\"Oh, I'm sorry. I hope I wasn't in your way..\"** \nMarco's eyebrows furrowed in concern as he met the glassy gaze of the woman- clearly drunk. \nHer round face and pale blue eyes were nearly doll like, even more with the rosy tint from the alcohol. The black of her outfit synchronized her, instead of clashing. She was pretty. \n\nNot wanting to appear creepy, Marco went quiet, patiently waiting for a drink he'd order just before he'd noticed the woman." }, { "author": "Calliope Winters", "message": "***Calliope only just now noticed the young man. Her green eyes peering up at him, lips parting slightly. Wow he's attractive, she thought to herself. Giggling, she leaned against the bar on her right arm, head in her palm lollling a bit as she admired him. Unlike her usual behavior, she didn't hide the fact she was checking him out. Would she regret this in the morning? Most definitely she would.*** \n\n~\n\n\"No no... Definitely not in my way.\" ***She grinned lazily.*** \"You are cute, who might you be? I'm Calliope, but many like to call me Callie for short.\" ***Her words came out a bit slurred, but not too much that he wouldn't understand her. Callie looked towards the bartender, giving him her best doe eyes for yet another drink in case he decided to cut her off. When he obliged, she happily turned her attention back to the stranger.*** \n\n~\n\n***She couldn't get it out of her head that he was good looking, it was almost unfair really. She twirled her blonde hair with her index finger, trying to look somewhat impressionable for him. She couldn't know if she looked absolutely ridiculous or not.*** \"You know it's like my first time out- I have to say I am soooo excited\" ***She spilled, giggling as she spoke.*** \"I never knew clubs could be so fun\"" }, { "author": "Marco Vitali", "message": "Marco was instantly intriqued by her name, and even more flattered by her gaze. His own eyes made a dash down to her lips and tip of her fingers, down to her shoes. \n\n**\"Callipoe,\"** He repeated, letting the vowels lingers on his tongue momentarily. His drink had arrived and it was set next to him, and he gave it some consideration for how her name paired with the alcohol. \n\n**\"Mm-\"** He gave a little noise of approval for the drink, before letting the glass once more rest to the bartop. \n\n**\"My name is Marco. It's a pleasure.\"** \nHe seemed a little nervous to be talking to a girl who was clearly much too drunk to be hitting on him, but perhaps he could help her sober up some. \nShe was talkative, and beyond the obvious inebriation, he had a feeling she might be good company. \n\nMarco took a seat down next to her. \n\n**\"Is it? I hope you don't mind me joining you, then. It's my first time tl this club as well. Are you... Amish?\"** \n\nThe question was posed playfully, yet warm and unaccusatory.\nMarco was not Amish, but the way she spoke to him about being out to a club for the first time ever - given how young she looked - he wondered if this was a coming of age thing that the amish allowed their children to do when they became adults. \nAnd even if she wasn't, perhaps it would make a good joke.\n\n**\"Which part is your favorite? The drinking or the dancing? Because I can tell you that both can be fun in tandem, but only doing the former will change your mind very quickly if you don't metabolize some of the alcohol in your system. You might very much hate yourself at two in the morning,\"** Marco jested, smiling at her." }, { "author": "Calliope Winters", "message": "***Calliope smiled flirtatiously at him, hardly noticing the bartender pushing her drink towards her. She lifted the glass to her lips, taking a generous sip before setting it back down onto the bar.***\n\n\"It-it is a pleasure Marco.\" ***She giggled, slurring her words a bit. The alcohol had done more than she expected. She felt more bold and confident, and far more sociable than her usual. A thought of doing this more often popped into her head.*** \n\n\"No no I am definitely not Amish! You may join me, you are very good looking by the way. It would be dumb to say no to you.\"\n\n***So far he seemed nice, respectful to her even. She wasn't the most experienced when it came to men, but she must be doing something right for him to still be talking to her. His little joke made her laugh lightly in response, she couldn't even blame him if he thought her Amish. Most women her age had already done so much, even continuing to live their lives to the fullest. Calliope was trying to change that though, she felt she needed to live her life more.*** \n\n***Playfully, she tilted her head as if in deep thought. Tapping her chin with her index finger, she grinned and spoke up. She spoke rapidly, her words either making sense to his ears or not at all.***\n\n\"Both! I never knew I could dance the way I do and the alcohol is tasty! So many of the drinks I've gotten are sweet, and I have been dancing like crazy and wow it is super fun. I do hate how hungry its making me though, but I try to quench it with the alcohol. Do you like both? Or do you like drinking? Or do you like dancing more?\" ***She questioned rapidly, still smiling and swaying in her seat to the music.\"\n\n***The alcohol was clearly hitting her even more. She felt light like a cloud, her mind a bit fuzzy. Everytime she spoke it was like she didn't think of her words. They simply spilled out whether she would like it or not. Everything was feeling like a complete blur, and she was loving it. No worries of what others thought, her shyness being suppressed so she could freely speak without any concern. Which... She picked up her glass again. She had almost forgotten about her sweet drink. Pressing the rim to her lips, she tilted her head back and down her drink quickly. At first she'd have choked, but after a few she got the hang of it. She set the empty glass back down, turning her attention back to Marco the cutie... Did she really just think that?***" }, { "author": "Marco Vitali", "message": "Marco's thick eyebrows furrowed, watching the smaller slur and rock a little in her seat as she spoke to him. She spoke too quietly for him to truky understand her and she was... Nearly sloshed to day the least. It was becoming incredibly apparent that she didn't have any friends here, or anyone to pace her. \nOut of concern, Marco found himself staring at the bartender and making some signal for him that she reached her cut off. \nShe had complimented him, called him good looking, though he was much too sober himself to really place it as genuine. \nMarco's own upbringing wouldn't allow him to take advantage of a girl who was intoxicated - nor would his own level of respect for a other human.\n\nAnother drink was slid to Calliope, however it was water.\n\n**\"I think the bartender likes you..\"** He started, smirking softly at the blonde. \n**\"Not just anyone can get the house special.\"** \nThe drink was a clear liquid, flavored lightly with a simple syrup and a sprite base, garnished with a cherry and little orange twist. \n\nIt was just really fancy water.\nMarco hoped the carbonation would help some of the indigestion from the alcohol. \n\nThe beat of the song changed to something with a rumba pace and Marco looked out to the dance floor. \nSuddenly, he felt responsible for the new friend he was making. \n\n**\"Why don't we go out to the dance floor? Hanging out at the bar is no place for a pretty girl like you.\"** \nMarco held out his hand, and when she took it, he instructed silently for her to twirl once by bringing her arm up. \nIt always some how signified universally for someone to take a little spin. \nThe demigod's lips pulled into a smile as he lead her to the dance floor, shifting his hips and taking steps rhymically until they were admist the sea of bodies.\n\nThe music was so loud out here that there was no other way to speak than by phsyical touch and visual cues. Marco allowed some space between them as he shuffled in place, cognizant\n\nOf the rest of the people around him, but equally taking up space with confidence." } ]

[ { "author": "enigmatichades", "message": "Location: Red XXX District: Divine Chaos\nSection: The Underground\nPlayers: Hades and Rabbit\nOCs: Syarbright and Aeolus" }, { "author": "Syarbright", "message": "Divine Chaos. A location that Syarbright often found himself residing in. Whether it was his mommy issues flaring up or the fact that the lonely soul needed anything to feel the place was one of the only areas that felt like home. He wasn't sure why that was. Couples and lovers come to this area to gather in passionate nights of sin and lust. Others have more non-carnal desires that need to be itched. Syarbight wasn't there looking for sex and he wasn't there looking for some type of affection or even partnership. Syarbright was there on business. Green-dyed dreads stuck out among the crowd of sinners and lovers. Fangs shined on and off as the lights reflected off the grill in his mouth. His pockets were filled with an indistinguishable substance packaged in a Ziploc bag with \"Snow\" Written in Sharpie.\n\n**\"I already told you. It's the real thing. Nothing I bring to you is fake. Now you can accept the offer on the table or you can get the fuck out of my face. Unless you are trying to run the fade, Mr. Carlos? It would be a shame if I beat your ass and you have to go home to Mrs. Carlos and explain that you were here. What did you tell her? That you were working late tonight?\" **\n\nLoud silence. Syarbright wasn't the best at negotiating, but he knew how to make some money at least. He knew how to do whatever was necessary. Blackmail. Fighting. Even just taking it. Mr. Carlos was a regular customer of Syarbright. While Syarbright wasn't sociable, he picked up on key information about Mr. Carlos each time they had done business. He was a talker. Every time he bought something he would tell a story or two. He would talk about his day. Anything could come out of his mouth just so Mr. Carlos could feel comfortable and less guilty about the dirt he was doing. If tonight worked well, Syarbright was going to visit Matt. Try to get some more resources and increase profits.\n\n_It doesn't have to be like that Syar. You know I just was messing with you. Please leave my wife out of this. I don't want to lose her. Here! Just for being a good supplier here's a tip. May Zeus look upon you with good favor_\n\n**\"Don't give me all that. Your money is good enough. I don't need any speeches about some false idol\"**\n\nSyarbright was serious. He didn't believe in the gods even though he was a demi-god. He never questioned his strength or any other things that may seem abnormal. He just felt he was naturally gifted, In reality, he still had much to discover. He was strong, but nowhere near the peak of a demi-god normally possessed. Mr. Carlos quickly moved out of the way and headed home. The deal was a success and there was nothing else for Syarbright to do but enjoy the rest of his night. Unbeknownst to Syarbright, some troublemakers watched the deal go down the whole time. Their eyes looked toward Syar's direction but did not approach him. It seemed they were abiding for time for an opportunity to strike. \n\n**\"I'll take a gin on the rocks\"**\n\nHis order was direct and straight to the point as he arrived at the bar. He figured it couldn't hurt to indulge in a drink or two. Money was placed upon the bar top and taken swiftly. The bartender checked out the currency before he started on Syarbright's order. Eyes still watched him, noticing that he was alone. This was the perfect opportunity to get the drop on Syarbright. Closer his enemies came towards him only stopping about 15ft away. Syarbright was none the wiser. Awaiting his drink, he wondered what to do for the rest of the night. He had messaged a few people but no one replied to Syarbright. He felt lonely, but he would never admit it to anyone." }, { "author": "metanoia11", "message": "_Aeolus snuck out._\n\nIt wasn't hard with her particular skill set. Her avians could feed her information and the wind could be silent when it needed to—a perfect combination to avoid the sight of those in Atlantis for the night. \n\nLiving her life vicariously through winged things wasn't always the best teacher, and Aeolus had long since craved firsthand experience. A place like the Underground was the best place to keep those kinds of secrets, secrets about what she was really like when no kind sister or gentle stepmother was around. \n\n_Tonight. Just for tonight._ \n\nAll she wanted was one night, away from divine abodes in the thick of war.\n\nWith practice from braiding her horse's manes in boredom, Aeolus managed to disguise her signature fluffy hair into short blonde braids. Sunglasses in the night time was more eye-catching than discreet so she opted for a simple half mask decorated by lucky horseshoe prints—a random buy that came in handy. It covered up her lower face, something many a patron favored in the Underground for various reasons, so she didn't look out of place at all. \n\nUnfortunately for Aeolus, she seemed too green, true though it was. As she walked in, her eyes couldn't stop flickering around in the thrill of forbidden entertainment. She looked out of place just from her reaction to every new thing, a fresh faced young female—an easy target for the wicked. \n\nAs she made her way to the bar, she contemplated what famous drinks she could order, wondering about her tolerance for alcohol. _Could human spirits even make her tipsy?_\n\nShe was eager to find out. A foot stretched out and Aeolus stumbled, greedy hands touching her hips and waist in an attempt to 'steady' her. It was only when a hand brushed the side of her chest with a grabbing motion that Aeolus belatedly realized. \n\n_`Oh... I ran into the legendary bar scum...`_ \n\nA new experience, even unpleasant, was enough to put the Goddess in a good mood. But she couldn't tolerate the body odor, nor the bad breath. The hands that then tried to blatantly grope her chest again became the last straw. \n\nA frigid wind erupted from her body, slamming the 'good Samaritans' away from her body, creating a vacuum around her that seemed like a forbidden zone. \"You're in my way,\" She said, subconsciously using the sweet voice she used to endear herself to others. Her actions were anything but sweet however, frost forming on top of the closest man's skin as his fingers and toes went purple, numbing rapidly before pricking, burning pain erupted. He screamed, but it was swallowed up by the wind, the disturbance never reaching the other patrons save for those who witnessed the initial interaction then turned their heads away indifferently. \n\nAeolus felt a thrill of excitement at their indifference. No scrutinizing eyes meant no authority to follow! She hummed quietly as she continued toward the bar, ignoring the convulsing men behind her who eventually passed out in the vacuum she created, no longer her problem to fix. \n\nShe proudly placed a few bills on the bar, \"Bartender, a Mountain Breeze in a tall glass over ice, please!\" Her memorized order was rattled off with confidence despite having no experience with the drink or its consequences." }, { "author": "Syarbright", "message": "The underground was not the place for the green and ignorant. People will take advantage of any type of weakness. Not knowing and being inexperienced was not an excuse. Drink in hand, whispers reached Syarbrights ear causing him to glance at the out-of-place goddess. If only he knew exactly who that was, he would rethink any type of engagement. Well she's cute. But does she know exactly where she is at? The question lingered on his mind for a few moments before he returned to his drink. He was no hero. He just hoped she was able to handle the wolves that were around. If she truly was as green as she appeared. Women were tricky and manipulative. Was this thought process a little biased because of family issues he had? Yes, it was. \n\n**\"How much you wanna bet she isn't going to survive the night here?\"**\n\nThe question was rhetorical as he caught a glance of the \"Gentleman\" Going for the simplest of moves. The ole trip and feel. If one isn't used to getting pussy, he or she should at least not try to go for the most simple and obvious trick in the book. But who was Syarbright to judge? If it works how can he argue with the results? Drink stinging his throat, he finished his gin and was ignorant of the altercation that occurred between bar scum and the goddess. His screams? Silenced. Whatever Aeolus did it was effective. \n\n`Do you still want to take that bet?`\n\nSyarbright didn't answer the bartender. Instead, he turned to look at Aeolus after a small search. She was fine? The \"Scum\" Absent as she was ordering herself a drink. His first guess was that she just told him no and sent the scum on his way, but a person like that doesn't take no for an answer. Looking around, he noticed the result of the altercation. The miniature display of the knocked-out body called out to him. His body immediately gets up to go over towards the area. Upon arrival, he checked to see if the man was at least still alive. He did not need his hands on a dead body. Was he there to help? Hardly.\n\n Confirming that the man did not have a confirmed date with Hades, Syarbright immediately started to run his pockets for anything of value. Nothing of value was left on the man. Syarbright took his money, keys, credit cards, cheap cologne, miniature comb, and even the belt from his pants. Booty collected like a pirate, Syarbright spotted Aeolus and headed towards the bar to take a seat next to her. \n\n**\"I'm unsure if you are the one who made this possible or some bystander just decked him, but your drink on me\" **\n\nHis words came with a stack of bills placed on the bar top. He didn't know she already had an order in process. What would the bartender do about this? Make her two? Not take her money? It didn't matter. With the man's belt hanging around his neck like a lanyard, Syarbright started counting just how much he had remaining from his heist while trying to juggle small talk. If only Syarbright had checked the body more closely. The clues were all there and he missed every single of them. The frost over skin and purple toes and fingers completely glossed over. Yeah, the body felt cold but air conditioning was Syarbright's first thought. \n\n**\"So little lamb, what brings you to this side of town?\"**\n\nNo introduction. No asking how she was doing. No seeing if she was okay. Well, it wasn't like he had tact to begin with." }, { "author": "metanoia11", "message": "Maybe because he'd witnessed her ability, the bartender hadn't dared to shirk when making her drink, the cocktail placed in front of her before her would-be assailants could finish being robbed of their not-so valuables. \n\nThe ice cubes against the red concoction in her glass brought Aeolus a refreshing thrill of emotion as she reached for it and took a tentative sip, subtly inhaling the lemony scent brought by the wedge on the glass's edge. _Her first drink!_ \n\n...But it wasn't at all what she was expecting.\n\nHer eyes watered instantly, and her nose and throat stung harshly before an enveloping warmth soothed her straight down to her stomach. The mix of sour and sweet, and the spicy lingering aftertaste were far more than she bargained for. Still, Aeolus had seen mortals downing drinks without reluctance—and there was no way she was worse than a mortal! \n\nThe Wind Goddess continued to drink like enduring torture, sucking on the straw with aggressive gulps in hopes of finishing sooner. When the ice cubes finally rattled at the bottom of the empty glass, Aeolus sat back with a puffy breath, her eyes watery but filled with triumphant light, with a bright smile adorning her reddened lips.\n\nIt was then that some random stranger she hadn't taken notice of before slapped a few bills onto the bar. \n\nShe tilted her head as he mentioned her handiwork, observing him curiously. \"Why would me teaching them a lesson make you responsible for my drink?\" She wondered out loud, pondering if it were some strange human custom she had yet to come across. The bar was filled with chatter all around them yet her voice was clear to his ears, like it was sent right to him on the wind. \n\nWhile they exchanged words, the bartender slid Aeolus's second drink of the night her way, and she somewhat reluctantly accepted it, wrinkling her nose in reminiscence of the bright but overwhelming taste.\n\nAeolus bit the edge of the straw as she processed her new nickname, wondering where on earth she resembled those cute wooly mammals whose calls resembled children whining for their mothers. _Was she just insulted? Or complimented?_ \n\nShe couldn't really tell at all. Blinking her big brown eyes, she observed the man before her carefully before finally responding, \"If I'm a lamb, does that make you a butterfly?\" She gestured to his wildly colored hair and flashy look, a playful smirk hanging on the edge of her lips as her eyes curved joyfully. She swirled her drink around and held it up for him to see, \"Is there a better reason to be here than this?\"" }, { "author": "Syarbright", "message": "_Maybe I am just focused on her_\n\nFor some reason, he heard Aeolus clearly without some interference or background noise. All the sounds of the world cut out except her voice. The demi-god was ignorant again of the force that he was messing with before him. Despite this clarity of voice, it wasn't anything to raise suspicion. It produced more curiosity. A natural allure? Possibly. \n\n**\"It's simple really. It's a sign of respect. Gratitude. Instead of leaving here today a couple of bands richer... I am now a couple of racks richer. Double my profits and I didn't even have to lift a finger. Why would I not at least buy you a drink.\"** Maybe the male was explaining it wrong. **\"It's not a responsibility. It's because I want to.\" ** The addition he hoped made the action make more sense. \n\n\nThe nickname was harmless. Maybe prejudicial in how he saw her. She seemed like a lamb in a sea of wolves but was that correct? She seemed to be the true wolf among them all. She had held her own already, but was there a need to correct himself? No. This could end in two or three ways. A risk he was willing to take. When she finally responded, the Goddess showed she had just as much bark as she did bite. He had never been called a butterfly because of his appearance. \n\n_Damn. She grilled my ass_\n\nSilenced by her words, he tried his best to come up with a comeback but nothing materialized in his brain. Luckily for him, he was rescued by an interruption. His lips separated to try and fake a response similar to the one when he was interrupted. The group of men that was surveying him all night finally came up to make their move. One came around and sat on the other side of Aeolus. Three made an arch covering the backside of Syarbright and Aeolus while the leader sat on the other side of Syarbright. \n\n**\"Well. The drinks here are lovely... Too bad they come with a few extra packages. I can think of other reasons to bring you here. You can get drinks anywhere but only in a few places can you satisfy other needs such as lust. Or the need to get some anger out if certain people don't back the fuck away...\" **\n\n`SYAR!!! Long time no see buddy. The last time I saw you, I was owed about 3 grand. I'm sure this reconnection means you have my money. Don't be so shy. Why don't you buy us a drink and introduce me to this beautiful woman here? She certainly is breathtaking.`\n\nOh if only this man knew how ironic his words were. Hell, if only Syarbright knew. He held up 2 fingers signaling that he wanted 2 bottles of \"Grey Goose\". Annoyance tattooed on Syar's face, he decided to give this man everything he wanted. He just wish his words wasn't like nails to a chalk board. His breath smelled like a mix of alcohol with rotten eggs. Maybe a hints of onion in there. What the hell did he eat before deciding to approach Syarbright and Aeolus with his buddies?\n\n**\"Well my dear Lamb, this man's name is unimportant. He is similar to that idiot from earlier, but much worse. Probably just as fucked up in the head but you know he thinks he can get what he wants because he has an admirers club following him which he calls a gang. Just ignore them. Now before I was rudely interrupted... My name is Syarbight. Your residential butterfly\"**" }, { "author": "metanoia11", "message": "Aeolus listened carefully, giving the stranger her full attention. When her bright brown eyes focused on someone, it gave the illusion of being the only thing she saw, the center of her world for that moment, shrouded in the warmth of a spring breeze. \n\nShe didn't quite understand what she had to do with his gains for the night, oblivious to the happenings between the time she sat down and the time she finished her first drink. But she did understand it wasn't some strange custom. This person was simply being generous toward her for his own reasons. Aeolus didn't have the breadth of experience to suspect those reasons, it only made her smile warmly at the man, pleased by his attitude. \"I see,\" She murmured softly, \"Then I thank you for your offering.\" \n\nShe raised her glass to the man as she'd seen so many mortals do, taking a few gentle sips and realizing the taste wasn't so striking when you grew used to it. Placing her elbow on the bar and adopting a lazy posture, her eyes remained focused on him, eager to know what surprising thing this 'mortal' would do next. \n\nThe seat on her other side was suddenly taken and Aeolus glanced over her shoulder curiously. Then the space around her suddenly shrunk without warning, occupied by strange men forming a human cage. The Goddess's lazy posture slowly became frigid, her smile dulling and her eyes growing cold. \n\nIf there was one thing that could trigger the storm that she was, it was the feeling of being trapped—like right now. \"Syarbright, is it?\" She said softly, slowly setting her drink on the bar, \"I am called Aeolus, named for the island Aeolia where I was born. You said these men are like the trash on the floor?\" She nudged her chin towards the fallen men she'd 'taught' earlier, lips curved in a gentle smile that didn't reach her eyes, \"So then no one will bat an eye at what I do to the rubbish around us, I suppose.\" \n``\n\nShe swept a gaze over the men caging them in, like she was looking at dead things that didn't matter. In the dark corners of the Underground where no one questioned, sought or stuck their nose in... It was the perfect place for Aeolus to be Aeolus. \n\nThe small radius around their group suddenly went silent, all sound disappearing as it was swallowed by the invisible vortex around them. Maybe they couldn't see it, but the men inside this soundless zone could certainly _feel_ it. The one directly next to Aeolus felt the temperature drop below freezing, his skin instantly numb and painful at the same time. \n\n\"C... Cold! W-w-why is, is it, so-so cold?!\" His teeth chattered uncontrollably, his lips so frozen that they began to crack and bleed, filling his mouth with a sickening metallic taste. He experienced Boreas's frigid domain, the one that reaped weak lives each winter, even now in the modern day. The air grew thin around him and his lungs felt strained like they were about to collapse. The man curled up on the ground, rocking stiffly to generate a warmth that wouldn't spark. \n\nBy Syarbright's side, the air turned unbearably muggy around the leader of the crew and he choked on his taunting words, his body feeling unbearably dry and parched as Notus's sultry, summer domain fell upon him. \n\n\"The... The fuck did you do?!\" He rasped out in horror, clawing at his dehydrated throat and coughing violently. Vapor rose from his skin as he sweated and it evaporated instantly, over and over again. The ends of his hair curled up in the humidity before drying out and breaking away like pieces of burnt hay, the smell of burning hair invading his nose and making him gag. He fell on his knees, rasping like a man who hadn't touched water in days, his head throbbing painfully, his body feeling weak and his mind delirious from the heat exhaustion rolling over him in waves. His vision blurred and he collapsed on the ground, reaching for Syarbright's ankle desperately. \"H... Help...\" \n``\n\nThe trio that had previously trapped Aeolus and Syarbright in place found _themselves_ trapped. Horrified by the happenings before them, with no thought to resist, just the urge to flee. Aeolus cut their resistance away, quite literally, with Eurus's domain. The three men found themselves trapped in a dizzying vortex of violent wind, slashes cutting through their clothing and drawing blood as they screamed painfully, tossed about like ships at sea about to be wrecked. \n\nYet, Syarbright and even Aeolus wouldn't hear a thing, enveloped in the sweet spring domain that was Zephyrus's, feeling warm and refreshed. \n\nAeolus watched their suffering expressionlessly, and when she felt they had enough, she flicked her wrist and Zephyrus's blessing blew the violent winds of the other three away, letting the five men drop to the floor limply, with no consciousness left and just enough breath to stay alive. They were covered in the fragrance of lavenders, like a mockery to their previous plight, a stick followed by a sweet, to remind them of their place before the Goddess of Wind. \n\nA soft hand reached for the drink on the bar but the bartender pulled it back and replaced it with a freshly made one. \"On the house!\" He exclaimed cheerfully, his smile bright but his back covered in a cold sweat. _What the fuck did these guys provoke and why did it have to be on his shift?!!_ \n\nAeolus smiled instantly, returning to her bubbly self from before the unpleasantness, showcasing the fickleness of her domain to its fullest as she scooted closer to Syarbright, \"You were talking about things you could get here other than drinks?\" She leaned closer with eager eyes, like an excited kid told about a new game, an innocence within her that contradicted her cruel acts against those that called forth her wrath." }, { "author": "Syarbright", "message": "Syarbright had her full attention. Was it because of his charm? Hardly. He was an interesting person that was for sure, but in truth, the curiosity of Aeolus was carrying him. However, Syarbright could have not confronted her and kept to himself. Syarbright might have deserved more credit. While appreciative, he had never seen anyone raise a glass to the demolishing and robbing of bar scum before. It was ironically comical to him. A make-believe scenario came in over his head. Just imagine someone toasting over the fact you got your ass beat for trying to cop a feel. The male on the floor had to be embarrassed. If only he was conscious enough to know the full extent of it.\n\nThe men that joined them were trying to act tough and made a major miscalculation. Aeolus did not like to be trapped or caged in. Syarbright thought she just disliked men who couldn't be honest with their intentions. Her smile faded. The beautiful glow is gone and replaced with something more wicked. At least he wasn't the cause of it. _She is not happy that we have company..._ He thought. Confirmation came as Aeolus addressed Syarbright with a question. \"Nope. If anything they will probably continue with their lives\" He answered simply. His eyes focused primarily on her to see what she had planned. Was she going to break their face in? Leave some blood on the floor?\n\nThe display that occurred was nothing short of horror. Pain. Unimaginable pain came among them and Aeolus didn't even lift a finger. The leader was pleading to Syarbright for help. The grasp at his ankle signaled a desperate attempt for relief. For help. However, it never came. Syarbright would not help the man for he couldn't even hear the plea. Syarbright only felt the ankle touch as instincts kicked in causing the demi-god to kick against the leader. How dare he try to touch him! But their punishment was far from over. The blood that Syarbright was looking for came through razor-sharp cuts from the air. Their ichor is just nothin\n\nG but sacrifices to the wind goddess among them. At least she allowed them to have their lives. Was she truly so cruel if she didn't take the most valuable thing imaginable? As if Hades needed more company. \n\nThere is no way I just saw what I saw. She said she was going to do something to them, but she didn't do anything. At least... I didn't see anything done. It's so hard to tell. But why... Do I feel rejuvenated? Almost like I'm outside in some field? It feels so warm and relaxing. All the weight and tiredness from the night is... Gone. I feel like I can go for hours!? Did I take some drugs? Did she do this too? I don't want to believe it, but I just saw all those men become victims. It has to be her. But how? \n\nHe couldn't finish going over all the possibilities. Aeolus was coming in close and hot! Syarbright felt powerless around her, a weakness and a fear of his. Not that he thought he had any reason to fight her but the fact she could do that without any type of movement. If his theory is correct it would make her the scariest person he knew. While the fear never left Syarbright it was trumped by the knowledge that she wanted to know more. What could he teach her? She wanted to learn the wickedness of the area all while having a smile and a childlike eagerness. How could he say no? \n\n**\"What's with you? Have you been locked up or something? Or are you some rich girl?\" **He asked letting out a little nervous laugh before getting serious. **\"There many things you can find here. What experience are you looking for? I know the perfect thing actually\" **He started while going into his pocket and taking out a few tablets. He placed one in front of her. **\"Try this. Tell me what you see. Many people say it lets you see some lovely things\"** LSD and acid was placed before her. **\"There are fights, alcohol, drugs, and chaos that you can get into. Lets start with drugs. You look like someone that can enjoy a lovely night. So let us have a good night no?\"**" } ]

[ { "author": "chirpycloud", "message": "During Zelus's travels, the cat-and-mouse game continues. Almost too EZily." }, { "author": "Zelus", "message": "¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸\n From the sultry salsa clubs of Havana to the underground techno havens of Berlin, Zelus had traversed the globe, immersing himself in the world's most vibrant nightlife. Each city transformed into a stage for his celestial dance of competition and camaraderie, testing his prowess against mortals and gods alike. His global journey didn't just broaden his horizons; it allowed him to dive into cultures beyond his comprehension, meeting locals who eagerly introduced him to the nocturnal pulse of their vibrant cities. Universally beloved, his presence requested in the joyful embrace of dance and celebration wherever he roamed. This relentless pursuit of thrill and connection ultimately drew him to Mauritius.\n\nNestled between the murmuring ocean and whispering palms, Luminous stood as a beacon of vibrant life amidst the tropical splendor. As Zelus stepped into the scene, he was greeted immediately by an explosion of colors. Neon lights in hues of electric blue, vibrant red, and lush green cascaded across the walls, their reflections dancing off mirrored surfaces to create a dizzying spectacle. They pulsed in harmony with the thumping beats of house music, the deep bass resonating with the god's very core, perfectly in sync with the rhythm of his heart.\n\nAttracting both locals and tourists, the club was a melting pot of cultures that promised a hedonistic paradise. The air was thick with the mingling aromas of sea salt and exotic perfumes, crafting an intoxicating atmosphere that heightened the senses. Amid this lively tapestry of people, the god thrived.\n\n¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸\n\nTonight, his attire was meticulously chosen to blur the lines between the divine and the daring. Clad in white, his ensemble shimmered under the club's neon lights, with the top buttons provocatively undone to reveal a hint of his skin. This audacious choice served as both a nod to his sacred masculinity and a playful flirtation with the feminine, challenging traditional norms and expectations with every swivel and step. A gold chain hung discreetly around his neck, only occasionally catching the light to add a subtle hint of allure.\n\nMoving with fluid grace and fiery intensity, his presence on the dance floor drew admiring glances without even realizing it. His body responded instinctively to the rhythm, each beat a call to which his soul answered, driving him deeper into a state of blinding euphoria. His dance was an open invitation—a challenge to any who dared to match his tireless energy.\n\nAs the night deepened, Zelus's dance became more intense and expressive. He existed at the center, a whirlwind of energy that captivated and commanded the space around him. Soon, a man and a woman, both mesmerized by his stamina, joined him. The man, brimming with confidence and a mischievous smile, engaged the god in a competitive dance-off. Meanwhile, the woman, radiant in a flowing dress, sparkled under the club lights, moving towards him with a grace that seemed to match his vigor.\n\n¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸\n\nCaught between these spirited individuals, the god found himself in a playful dance of seduction. He expertly spun the woman, her dress blossoming like a flower in spring, while the man attempted to escalate the encounter with a bold move to steal a kiss. \n\n*\"Not here. I'll find you later.\"*\n\nZelus whispered, his voice laced with a false promise as he teasingly shoved the man away. He had no interest in following through; his eyes were set on a *Greater conquest.*\n\nThe surrounding crowd erupted with cheers and applause, drawn into the dynamic spectacle. With an inviting laugh, he encouraged more partiers to join the fun, transforming the dance floor into a backdrop of a tropical festival. \n\nYet, even amid the revelry, the dancer's gaze continued to wander, ever searching. There, lurking in the shadows of the club, was a mysterious figure who had captured his intrigue from the moment he entered—a presence promising a depth and connection beyond the fleeting encounters of the night.\n\n||" }, { "author": ".+ Eros.", "message": "°ᡣ𐭩 . ° . 𝓢hut up, sit down.\n⠀\n\n⠀\n\n\"You should not go so soon, mon ange. Stay with me forever, hm?\"\n⠀\nDespite the strain of artificial light, Eros could see her, and the way that her lip trembled with a forlorn plea. The sienna of her lipstick had been streaked by the habitual way that she wet them, and her eyelashes were like inky wax, as thick as stilts. A dress of black fit her better than skin, and there was little space for assumption in its rigidity. By his likeness, she knew how to speak with a perfected amplitude that went beyond the throbbing of incessant bass. On her face, there was a smile, but it was one that suggested a pained understanding to the end of their narrative. Still, her figure pressed close to him, lissome fingers looping through his hair. Her nails, etched into wide, acrylic squares, were the same shade as her mouth. Periodically, they touched his throat, where his pulse would thud without synchrony. \n⠀\n\"Forever is a long time, starlet.\"\n⠀\nA refusal furnished in sweetness. He spoke with a spellbinding depth, as if he saw all of her, and perhaps he did. Words like flora, that were enveloped in covert thorns once held for prolonged time. It was why it had been spoken so lightly, as weightless as drifting feathers. The susceptibility of her eyes was combated by his touch, tilting her chin and keeping her still.\n⠀\n\nFurthermore, she spoke to him, and he only showed that he listened. Eros knew that she loved him, and while it gladdened him, it did not satiate him. He was starved with longing. He looked to each of his lovers in this way, with calculated delicacy and a flame that singed. It was a dying language, his illustration of love. The only one that spoke it was hard to keep still in his claws.\n⠀\nMauritius had suited him, but only for a time. The sun favored the island, for it did not neglect any infested alleyway or sweeping coastline. There was a glow to him here that was universally recognized, swathed in costly fabrics and a spirited smirk. Tourists, like her, glommed to him like a jellyfish, for he was more foreign than the plethora of beaches and the prospering reefs. In such limited time, he was decidedly adored, but it would not prevent his desertion. It was a sadistic choice, to confide in her— he liked to be told to stay, although he knew he would not. Eros could return in eons, when the water was a little warmer or the club was made into something new. He could return, and with new faces, it could be rewritten.\n⠀\nHis fellow gods surely favored him, for the weight of room tilted, and so did the tethers of his interests. The red thread tightened in proximity, and it meant only one thing.\n⠀\n\nThe finger that held his admirer by the chin fell to his side, but he was not deprived of affection. Men and women alike spent their time nearest to him, beckoning for only a sliver of his regard. His lips were glossy, tasting of a cauldron of mixed drinks, meddled together with each fleeting kiss. Mortals pressed to him and their hands boldly roamed, and he allowed their sins to fill him like a sweet. When the light caught him, it was enough to make a dancer's step foolishly falter— garbed in silken emerald, the color of the gaudy peacock. There were more than a few mere buttons undone, open and halted right at his abdomen. Perspiration mimicked the shine of the fabric, and it gleamed like his eyes, as blue as the country's tides.\n⠀\nThe swan was graceful, even with its weighty, euphoric magnitude. He moved his feet with belonging, as if he had been grounded to the center. Eros had made the shadows his seventh heaven, yet the bird had etched his initials into the dance–floor's median. It had been done without him; the man in white was adorned in eager mortals, flitting around him poorly, in ways that could not replicate his strength. Eros watched, and the near fruition of a kiss caused his lip to twitch. It was a smile, but it replicated the trait of a grinning hound— a predator who was not fond of exclusion.\n⠀\n\nEros departed from his nightly devotee with elegant steps of advancement, as if he anticipated her to follow. The island's humidity left his hair in springy, endearing curls, and his lasting scent of roses was doused in the salt of the sea. A room of passion now, for an undisclosed reason, felt complete— he moved expertly, dancing with and alongside hot flesh, leaving a trail of agonizingly short–lived touches. All of them would want more, but in the face of authenticity, his glances were quick and diverted.\n⠀\nFrom the shadows he had come, but a darkness persisted, one that hid beneath a thick, practiced veil. The white–clothed dancer's laughter was deafening, lasting beyond the mortal senses. Eros was closer, closer, closer to the focus of Luminous, but it would be no game without the spillage of blood.\n⠀\nThe god's fingers, clad in silver and assorted jewels, met the hips of a woman like fangs would skin. Her dress was similar— one that the swan had spent his time accompanied by— and while Eros did not pirouette her with the quirks of a gentleman, he pulled her to him like an erotic fiend. Her eyes, a hue darker than his, looked to him with unbroken innocence. She blushed, and he knew it by her dimples. Eros was, without any mistake or indecision, guiding her to something more.\n⠀\nHis foot clomped recklessly but intentionally on the man in white's, and as one hand kept to the lady, the second extended without use. Eros, at last, acknowledged him. His eyes were pouncing him, valuing his garments. That smirk, however, suggested malevolence. He did not step back, nor did he dance onward, invading their separate space.\n⠀\n\"Oh— I've got two left feet in the company of a pretty face.\"\n⠀\nHis forked tongue was lathered in potency, and Eros neglected the woman despite speaking of her. A ray of purple cast itself downward, reflecting on his layered necklaces of silver. The longest one, complimented with a wedge of rose quartz, seemed to seep in his untapped energy.\n⠀" }, { "author": "Zelus", "message": "¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸\n\nIn the cavernous expanse of Luminous, where pulsating bass and frenetic synths sculpted the air, the club throbbed with infectious, rhythmic ecstasy that ensnared the senses of all who entered. Yet a palpable shift cascaded through the throng the very moment Eros emerged from the shadows and stepped into the vibrant wash of neon light. It was as if the atmosphere itself sensed his presence and responded: the beats deepened, becoming sharper, and the melodies wove into more seductive threads, orchestrating a backdrop that seemed custom-fitted to the rhythm of his steps. The sound system, almost sentient, seemed to recognize and resonate with the aura of the man whose movements flowed like liquid fire.\n\nZelus, amid the festivity, felt this transformation abstract his sense of being. His heart, already in sync with the pounding of the bass, faltered, then fluttered—echoing the erratic synths that now underscored Cupid's proud carriage. With the regal bearing of a majestic peacock, he moved through bodies with a grace that was as effortless as it was practiced. His attire, reminiscent of green plumage, shimmered under the club's lights, each turn casting kaleidoscopic reflections that captivated the spectators, binding their attention in a spell as long-lasting as he wished.\n\nHowever, the God of Love was not alone. Accompanied by a striking woman, she moved through the mass; her attire, a cascade of shimmering black that clung to every curve with deliberate precision. Her dark hair flowed like ink down her back, adding to her allure, yet within Eros's expert grasp, she appeared less a companion and more an accessory—a striking object to be displayed and, inevitably, discarded.\n\n¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸\n\nNow, this observation wasn't lost on the man who eyed the pair with a gaze sharp enough to slice through the haze of cigarette smoke and human heat. He was acutely aware of the game being played—a game where Eros seemed determined to claim victory not just in the night's revelries but over the hearts and minds of those he dazzled. However, a familiar discomfort momentarily disrupted Zelus's stratagems. The sight of the ethereal bird with another stirred unease within the swan, tightening his chest in sync with the darkening pulse of his thoughts.\n\nThough he disliked their proximity—an intimacy he viewed not merely with indifference but with a brewing aversion—his reaction remained cloaked. He cared little for the wandering hands of strangers that seemed to dilute the true worth of the spectacle before them. A brief clench of his jaw was his only outward sign of his inner turmoil as he monitored the vibrant peacock, flaunting his splendor for another.\n\nQuickly mastering his emotions, Zelus molded his features into a flirtatious smile directed at his dance partner. This woman, whose laughter was as melodious as the tunes spinning from the DJ's booth, seemed blissfully unaware of the undercurrents that were dragging the daimon of envy. She danced with a carefree spirit, her hands occasionally reaching up to touch the zeal god's shoulders, her smile bright and inviting. Yet, her touch, while warm, sparked none of the fire that Eros's slightest glance kindled within him. He led her smoothly across the floor, his hands firm yet gentle on her waist, guiding her through the crowd with a precision that belied the chaos of his emotions. Each step and spin with the woman in his arms was a statement, not just of his prowess but of his unspoken challenge.\n\n¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸\n\nHis strategy required a blend of careful manipulation of appearances and realities. As he danced, his moves were precise, his laughter ringing clear, but his eyes, those keen viewers, never strayed long from Cupid. This quiet surveillance was his way of retaining control, of not allowing Eros the complete satisfaction of believing he dominated the night. Zelus's mind, ever analytical and sharp, plotted not just steps on the dance floor but moves in a more intricate dance of influence and attraction.\n\nTheir game of glances and subtle provocations intensified, mirroring the escalating vibrations of the night. When Cupid intentionally stepped on his foot, Zelus seized the opportunity, transforming his jealousy into the energy that fueled their interaction. He feigned annoyance, his scowl a skillful mix of mock outrage and playful jest.\n\n¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸\n\n*\"Watch it, pretty boy.\"*\n\nHe quipped, disarmed by his rose-kissed aroma. Almost instinctively, his fingers deftly unfastened the last two buttons of his shirt in a bold display, revealing more skin, inviting closer scrutiny, and perhaps closer contact. In a selfish swallow, he let his eyes take advantage of Eros's toned muscles on display for him.\n\n\"You are lucky I am in the presence of a lady, or this could go another way.\"\n\nThe daimon remarked, his words aimed at his dance partner but his focus riveted on the quartz pendant around the love god's neck. Zelus stood planted, sizing up the man before him. Sensing the tension, the woman tugged at the god's white garment, pleading until she realized it was futile and disappeared into the crowd.\n\nUnable to restrain himself any longer, Zelus grasped the crystal with a fierce grip, pulling his prey down a level below his chin. Like a seasoned actor gearing up for a climactic scene, the zeal god clenched his free hand into a fist.\n\n\"Someone ought to teach *You* Manners. \"\n\nEach syllable mingled with threat and promise, rolling off his tongue slowly and deliberately as if carving the words into the space that dared to separate them.\n\n||" }, { "author": ".+ Eros.", "message": "_ _\n࿔*:･❦︎\n_ _\nWith each of the peacock's studied steps, a bombardment to the senses followed. By scent was he often apprehended first— candied and pleasant, sure, but saddled with acidity. As syrupy as a custard, but with enough gratification, the taste of him could leave one sickly and timid. A sugary, sourdough pastry, enriched with a poison filling. As sweet as the ripest strawberry, as pungent as a slab of dark chocolate— Eros was, assuredly, whatever one wished for him to be, yet the denouement was seemingly always the same. The God of Debauchery could chew one up, only to spit them out; like gum, he could stretch one's heart between his teeth, and discard of it when it was void of flavor. He could touch like one's fated paramour, only to feel little within himself. There was a promised thrill, but it only took him so far. It only dusted a selection of colors on the canvas, when there was much left to unwrap.\n_ _\nZelus unknotted the ropes of expectation, and dismantled his short–term interests. It was Zelus, his swan in waters of superficiality, that revised the knocking of his heart. So many times had Eros been loved, but he only felt its honesty beneath those eyes of brown, alongside those feet that danced.\n_ _\n\nIt was in all of the swan's exceptions that his gaze was weighted with patent perception. Amidst clubbers in inexpensive fabrics and gaudy jewelry, Eros could feel him. It was beyond their shared divinity, exceeding the humane boundaries of envy— it was laced with the tremors of fate, of providence. His eyes, infinitely bottomless for a look at him, stayed to his partner of the night. Eros dared to gift him a glance when their eyes evaded one another. Sparingly, Eros watched him, and it became a sadistic method of torment on himself. The intimate chain of gold looped around his neck, catching the light graciously, just for him. The tousled nest that was his hair, an indication to his nightly prances. The fullness of his cheeks when he smiled— however, with Eros's immersion to the spotlight, he was sure he had seen it become a fleeting clench of the jaw. Eros looked to the eyes of strangers, and held his dance partner with ravishing possession as a result.\n_ _\nThe swan's mate had been an unfitting selection, and his eyes ventured to blacken at the sight of her. Her laughter was a jingle that was considerably out–of–tune, befouling the sublimity of his own. In boyish disdain, Eros would not dare to look at her face, as if the magnificence of his beatific glance could bless her with good fortune. If affliction clutched her like pine needles, it would contentedly be his doing.\n_ _\nHis misstep had been pitifully intentional, and in their closeness, his pleasure could not be contained. It was only when Zelus spoke, when his hands boldly touched, that Eros released the woman as if she were an unfilled wine glass. He had heartlessly swallowed down her affinity, and there was nothing left for him to taste.\n_ _\n\n*\"Watch it, pretty boy.\"*\n_ _\nThat was the elixir that he was after. The hiss in his inflection, the prompt movement of his hands— it unearthed eons of encounters and confrontations, touches and glimpses. Zelus smelt of the island's crystalline waters, and it fought to resist the beguiling scent that Eros maintained. The club, muggy and sultry, struck his flesh further by its exposure. Eyes, like lavish sapphires, did not stray from Zelus's face, ignited by the way that he ogled him.\n_ _\nThe pendant that illuminated his body shifted with the rise and fall of his chest, and Eros became still in their exchange. His lashes batted with the pattering of Zelus's heart, examining the shape of his lips, as if he had not pecked them incalculable times over. The woman at the swan's hip dwindled in persistence— there was only a subtle glance in her direction, drilling a hole in her skull. The peacock's partner in black lingered, though her gaze wandered to the eyes of solitary men that could give what Eros was giving another.\n_ _\n\nA breath fell from parted lips as he was hauled down and beneath Zelus's line of sight. Eros yielded to his force with a compliance that was daringly eager, but his impulses were not to be mistaken for blind subservience.\n_ _\nSlowly, Cupid took the hand that grappled the pendant into his own, straightening himself. There was a touch, a stroke of his thumb over the swan's knuckles, that only he would discern. Playfully, Eros lifted Zelus's arm, sloppily twirling under his hand. Once he circled back, the ink–haired deity released his hand and harshly forced it back, as if the act unnerved him— his smile said otherwise. With the tempo of a famished cat, Eros leaned in, their cheeks mingling with one another.\n_ _\n\n\"You should learn to keep your hands to yourself. What would the lady think? Oh— I don't think she liked ranking in at second place.\"\n_ _\nEros leaned back, only for a new perspective of Zelus's attire. There was an endearing approval in his glance, but the electricity of the moment squandered it. With a tickled grin, Eros eyed his performative fist.\n_ _\n\"The least you could have done is helped with my zipper, too. I thought you were a gentleman.\"\n_ _\nEros exhaled, blowing hot air against the outline of his ear as he pulled away. Only inches apart, he was sure that he could hear the daemon's heart, thrashing like the hooves of a horse. He smiled, and his fingers pressed into the portion of Zelus's chest that was exposed. With intent, he scraped his rings of silver upon his skin. Halting at the space between his collarbone and the start of his throat, Eros closed in for a second time.\n_ _\n\"Are you having fun, Z? I adore the sound of your laughter, but not when it's so forced. Really, it's in the company that you keep.\"\n_ _\nHis voice became quieter, as if any allusion to their bond was a beloved secret to conceal. Lips, so close to Zelus's ear that they could be felt, pursed together. Eros was pressing into him, now. His hand grazed his throat, over the swell of his Adam's apple, and to his chin, before returning to his side. It was a game that defied traditional demands of contention, but a fever ran high just the same, stirring in their minuscule space apart.\n_ _\n||" } ]

[ { "author": "Marco Vitali", "message": "Without a car, Marco insisted they tab a cab or some driver service. He was used to using rentals and taxis, often traveling from state to state and in cities he didn't know the street names of to get around to venues. \nHe'd tried to dress as nice as possible, but not over dress. He found a good balance in slacks and dress shoes, while opting for a burgundy button up. \n\nPulling up, Marco held the door open as he let his father go through first. \nIt was such an odd title to already have adopted, but Eros seemed receptive. He wanted to try and navigate this late-blooming family bond and Marco - being compassion and soft hearted - was happy to give it a shot also.\n\nBased on the inside of the restaurant, the demigod was glad he hadn't worn a full three piece, though, perhaos he could have choosen a different colored shirt. Maybe he wouldn't look too much like a chameleon when he sat against the plush velvet. \nA waiter took them to a table, and a moderately busy crowd and hushed conversations told him that this place was good enough for people to be comfortable. He glanced to plates as they were lead, and people were eating. \nMarco had a tendency to be skeptical of Yelp! Reviews or other engines, but the popular forum of Reddit never lead him astray. \nHe wondered briefly if Eros knew how to navigate the internet as they sat and were given menus and offered wine and appetizers.\nMarco looked to Eros to pipe in, wondering if he had a preference. He did want wine, but he didn't know what they had here and surely the God had been here before, right...?" }, { "author": ".+ Eros.", "message": "Seated comfortably on a familiar cushion of velvet, Eros eyed his son, and saw only a mirror. A prolongation of his gaze upon another was no revelation, yet it became more evident to him now, for it was done not out of desire but of fascination. Adoration, perhaps. The more that he observed, the less that his son was a separate being; Eros identified himself in the curve of Marco's jaw, or in the perky dance in his eye, despite them being several shades darker. Pecked by his unearthly allure, Marco Vitali was meant to be here, dressed in the color of sensuality. There was a range of distance between them, a boyhood that Eros was not privy to, yet it did not feel impossibly afar.\n⠀\nEros could void the most irrefutable rancor from a man's eyes and administer them with love. Surely, then, could he perform the same with his own blood. A part of him wished to do so without powers— only with the truth of his heart.\n⠀\nRestfully were his legs crossed, with a bearing that implied intrigue. Eros was no newcomer, though the restaurant had not left enough of an impression on him to be recollected with a sentimental grin. There were no memories fastened to its name, yet there was an inkling that there would be. It was delightfully dim and appropriately sultry, reanimated by a lively shade of red. The amalgamation of fine dishes all meshed as one, and it complimented the clinking of glasses or the whirring of mortal discussion. He could catch glimpses of it, of their desires— budding couples downing bottomless glasses of wine, immodest men watching waitresses like meat. Here, it was sophisticated, but not grandiose. Professional, but not without subtle vulgarity.\n⠀\n\nThe god smiled to himself, for the restaurant's selection had become a test that Eros unknowingly conjured, and Marco unknowingly passed.\n⠀\nDespite a colorful spirit, Eros was clad in the shades of night, as black as the hair on his head. A cashmere sweater that constricted his muscles with the ferocity of a serpent only enhanced his allure, tucked within pleated slacks. Garments of silver were tucked beneath, and only at exact angles did they gleam in the light, enriching the light in his eyes. Effortlessly did his hair remain remote from his face, yet its pomaded structure did not extinguish its wavy texture. In his perfection remained the remnants of humanity, for that was what produced his appeal.\n⠀\nThe menu, bound in leather and ornately engraved, was held loosely in bejeweled hands. Eros was only skimming to imply interest, and Marco's eyes could be felt on him, eager. The waiter, a simple young man peppered in freckles, spoke articulately of their range of food and drink. It was only when Eros looked up to him, however, that his words slowed and became foolishly halted. In a room so maroon, Eros recognized warmth in one's cheeks, bombarding the young boy with foreign feeling.\n⠀\n\n\"Oh, I am decided. A glass of Malbec, and a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. Are you nervous? Sneak a sip when no one is looking. It will soothe you.\"\n⠀\nIt was spoken expertly, as though each word could transcend time and slow the heart. The menu was offered back to the server with a slack wrist, and the fledgling took it as if he could not dare to keep Eros waiting— a mortal with wise instinct. He was curious to know the taste of the waiter when he returned, to know if his counsel had been followed. Upon being left alone, Eros rested his head in one hand, eyeing his son.\n⠀\n\"A glass of red, and a glass of white. I will drink what you least prefer.\" Eros leaned, absentmindedly, closer to the table. The illuminated lampshade casted a saintly glow to his cheeks, and the weight of his sanctity could not be denied. \"Awfully romantic, is it not? Are you fond of places like this?\"\n⠀\nTo his left, in the vacancy of the seat that his body did not occupy, sat a gift. A small, rectangular box, wrapped in graphite paper and topped with a thin, velveted bow. Eros made no attempt at hiding its presence, but he did not address it, either.\n⠀\n||" }, { "author": "Marco Vitali", "message": "Sitting down across from his father, Marco was able to get a better look at the way he acted with others. The demigod watched the interaction between his father and the waiter, noting the burst of confidence that brought the man's skin to life. It dawned on him how easy it was for the God to carry out his power so discreetly, nevermind the fact that it had nearly worked on him when they first met. \nThe God could sell his bath water as an elixir and relabel it \"Love potion\". \nIt was that sauve trait that he often carried himself, but he only held a piece from the sole proprietor. \n\nMarco's voice carried a lower tone, softer and more personal as he spoke, taking whatever appetizers they had that was the waiter's personal favorite. He must have felt extremely special that night to be paid such close attention to by this party of two charming men. He handed over the menu gratefully, and shifted in his seat. \n\n**\"Depends on how dry they are,\"** He stated, with a small smile, before placing his hands in his lap and rubbing his thumb over the band of his watch. He used to do it to his wedding ring, but that wasn't something he wore in months. Sometimes he got the phantom hug of it around his finger, only to see nothing there.\n\n**\"Infact, I am. I enjoy a sensual ambiance over the crowded, sticky bars or the harsh fluorescents of cafeterias. From an artistic view, I believe the space in which you inhabit says a lot about what kind of person you are.\"** \n\nMarco had seen the box in Eros' hand, but did not inquire about it. He hated to ruin surprises, and asking\n\nAbout it felt too pushy. \n\n**\"If we are talking about what kind of people we are, I would love to see your wardrobe. I can't imagine your closet isn't a bedroom in and of itself.\"**\n\nThe waiter returned, placing the glasses down before filling each with some wine. One white and one red. \n\n**\"Do mind if I–?\"** He made a whiffing motion before swirling and gingerly smelling both, before going for Sauvignon Blanc. \n**\"That was a difficult choice. What kind of wine do you prefer?\"**" }, { "author": ".+ Eros.", "message": "The pads of his fingers intermittently tapped the filed arch of his cheekbone, and it was when Marco spoke that he became the most heedful. With eyes of the alert panther, Eros scrutinized him, but his stare lacked the judgment that was delivered to others. The young man spoke gingerly, intimately— to Eros, his words had been carefully curated, but they did not retain the doubt that was prevalent in a mortal's heart. It must have been an innate property, to maintain a silken appeal and to wield it appropriately. Albeit selfishly, Eros settled on the conviction that it was his doing. In his truancy as a father, he remained in the silver of Marco's tongue. The talents of his son were painfully palpable, now.\n_ _\nEros briefly questioned if he was regarding the dryness of wines or the dryness of what encircled them. The god of lechery appreciated the appeal of dull–lit restaurants and patrons dressed in embellished designs, but the greatest gratification was in what could not be seen. There were secrets, codes in colors that only he could read— the repression of fleeting desire, the shy murmuring between dinner dates. A clandestine affair was cryptic no longer when he was there, promising guidance and esteem. The man at the other end of the table was a blossoming rose of color, of untold chapters and arcane afflictions. In time, Eros wished to understand. He was his son, after all. A god of love could not be deprived of his own romantic woes. There was a sentiment that they unwittingly shared.\n_ _\nWith an airy smile, Eros was rooted to the earth with Marco's extended words. The god was alarmingly expressive, but only with what he wanted others to find. A declaration of the man's sultry preferences inscribed a lift of his brow. The weight of his skull deepened as he became lax, blinking with interest. He had a stare that isolated— it could make one feel hauntingly exceptional, but worthy of inclusion.\n_ _\n\n**\"Sensuality is everywhere. If you cannot see it, then assume it is being hidden from you.\"** The truth of it propelled his posture, leaning into the seat and doing away with his hand. Eros moved with a compulsion for stimulation, but he was not unwise. He knew to bide his time when the reward would be substantial. **\"Find it, or become it.\"**\n_ _\nAmused, Eros smirked. **\"*A* Closet? I'll show you the first, and we'll make our way to the others.\"** It was spoken with a frisky inflection that was between jest and formality. His eyes were circling the shade of Marco's attire like the flitting wings of a vulture, and there was a darkening cast of guile atop his gaze. **\"Burgundy suits you, but the room swallowed you whole! Wear more jewelry apart from a watch, hm? You would look handsome in silver.\"**\n_ _\nThe waiter arrived hastily, with a weight in his step that was flimsier than before. Eros settled on the reasoning of it to himself, his pleasure conveyed in a grin that enriched the face. He had considered the waiter— there was a contemplative vision of allowing the waiter to linger, to make an example of him dictated by the redness of his face. The god chose against it, kept still by Marco's determination of the wines. One red, and one white. The selection did not mean much, but Eros eyed him with such focus that it was distracting.\n_ _\nThe red would belong to Eros, and he took the glass by the stem. **\"If it's wine, then red. If I had it my way, I'd have a Cosmopolitan.\"**\n_ _\nHe remained in the space of Marco's words spoken prior to the waiter's intrusion. Eros had a tendency to wade in dialogue, to cherry–pick what he wished for.\n_ _\n**\"How do you apply that artistic view to yourself? To take a photograph, rather than make yourself the focus of it— that is a choice. You do not seem shy. Are you shy, Marco?\"**\n_ _\n||" }, { "author": "Marco Vitali", "message": "Marco couldn't see an ounce of what Eros could see, but in his own mortal way he could perceive it by sense. The shift of energy, the tones of too-fast talking, or slow deliberate words; carefully choosen. The mute stares of disapproval. \nThankfully, that wasn't the case with him. \n\nEros' gaze was drawing him out, his essence. He felt more loved by this man alone within the few days they'd been together than by his ex-wife of many years. \n\n*Sensuality... Find it, or become it.* \n\nThe phrase latched onto Marco so quickly- or rather, maybe he held hands with the swords. Like waking up in a childhood home and seeing the wallpaper still had the teddy bear and building blocks border at the top. It was a powerful statement and one that resonated deeply with his own purpose.\n\n**\"It was a coincidence, but I should have had a keener eye for such a thing. Perhaps you'd find it worth your time to... Assist me? I'm not very...\"** He waved his hand vaguely, trying to find the words.\n**\"Acclimated with fashion.\"** \n\nWith his wine in hand, Marco gingerly moved the little glass by the foot, two fingers on either side of the stem, along the table cloth in a small circle. He paused at the question, hazel eyes finding his father's. \nThere wasn't any confusion, but rather, he found he already knew the answer.\n\n**\"Not shy, no. I wouldn't say I am shy. Gentle, perhaps? \nSince it is a choice, of how to embody sensuality, I would rather find it. There is nothing more pronounced than to help rekindle that spark between two people - or to help someone fall in love with themselves again through a boudoir shoot. Making others feel safe to explore something that is so easy to forget - themselves - that's what I love. \nIt isn't about me, but having that sort of influence...\nI mean, the world, it's a complicated place. But love? \nLove doesn't have to be complicated.**\n\n**You are the God of Love, so... What do you think? How have you navigated something that everyone yearns for, craves, goes through phases with, and ultimately becomes jaded by the thing that you are so accustom too?** \n\nMarco wouldn't romanticize something that was already so fragile, like a crackled glass christmas ornament - the surface being so beautiful but the technique dismished the structural integrity. It required that view, something that new how it - love - could only withstand so much." }, { "author": ".+ Eros.", "message": "The glass, a pool of cavernous red that mingled with the notes of the room, kept just below his chin as if he contemplated the taste. Pensively, Eros whirled the stem to inflate the wine's aroma, yet he was halted by the words of a son. To *Assist*— it was endearing, and with a secluded sensitivity did Eros value its multifaceted meaning. The benignant hue of his son's eyes was surely tactile, sewn with a tissue of flowing satin that was as plush as the God's nightly sheets. Eros, with an appreciative and receptive smile, began to uncover the boy in him. It felt as if it were a favor that went beyond ritzy and renewed fashion tastes. It felt as if it were a pledge, a decree to his presence that shall no longer leave him. Could Eros promise such a thing? To remain, to be one's beacon? In their glance that was so sweetly shared, Eros discerned how his son had loved and been loved.\n_ _\nHe, with a damningly mortal hankering, wished to be loved by his son. Eros could not evade the authority that his blood held over him. He was, albeit carelessly, yearning for the innocuous certainty of their bond.\n_ _\n\"You are more acclimated than you think. You are my son, after all.\"\n_ _\n\nAt last, Eros lifted the glass to parted lips, humming at the balance of both tart and sugared palates. There was a great sentiment to such a declaration, and Eros persisted in silken speech. Insistently, he observed, and his eyes fell to the motion of his son's hands as he yearned for articulation. The request left him pleased, and a subtle nod unveiled his approval.\n_ _\n\"Yes, Marco, I will assist you. What you wear, it is not so simple as your preferences. You are envied for your looks, but with your clothes, jewelry... You will be envied for your mind. Most men throw away their lives, searching for the influence that you embody. Do not let it go to waste. I imagine that the boutiques in France would adore your company.\"\n_ _\nThe words of the love God worked with the dexterity of a shaman's enchantment, remedying the mind. He spoke as if Marco was a reptilian man, with secrets like scales that shed and were flaunted freely to him. Eros spoke with a fervid, earnest animation, practiced and perfected by the company of faltering mortals. Here, however, Eros did not overstate his convictions. He wished to enact a metamorphosis of rejuvenation in his son; to unbury what was denied, never to alter and reject.\n_ _\n\nWhat Eros did not ready for, however, was the excavation of his own soul. Marco, freely, spoke without stopping. It brought Eros to a state of wholesome intrigue, nearly shifting the very weight of gravity. As if the glass of wine had become a dense barbell, he placed it near the demigod's glass of white.\n_ _\n*\"Love doesn't have to be complicated.\"*\n_ _\nThe words of a God, on the tongue of a man.\n_ _\nA demigod, forged by mortal frailty yet fortified by divine faultlessness, had never appeared so high–powered. Eros glimmered with pride, yet he was frigid in a simmering self–reflection. In elaborate reveries did Eros imagine his son, with gentle eyes, capturing the love of another by the permanence of a photograph. Marco's spirit of inquiry dismantled him, blinking lightly with the softness of a dove's wings. It only revealed itself in the slight twitching of his mouth, between a smile and the inclination to speak.\n_ _\n\n\"You are clever. The simplest things are the most convoluted, hm? It is easy, to love. It is the universal feeling of the heart, in men and animals alike, and yet it is a mortal's most renowned hindrance.\"\n_ _\nA hindrance of the mortal heart, yet it held Eros by the gullet and charged him with flashes of feeling. He was, in complete seclusion, not so endowed with fortune as one would believe. His divine matrimony had, in time, become a bond of the platonic soul. While grateful, Eros had not been granted a love that was ever plain and easily intelligible. His interminable affair with the God of Zeal was smothering him, now, more than it often did. If Eros slipped into the murmuring shallows of memory, he could recall his scent, and the vigor of the God's hands as they roamed his body freely. That was the love that men spilt blood for, and Eros once obtained it. It was the passion that lovers could not domesticate, that left tears to soak in linen and hearts to wither with time. Eros was blessed, yes. He loved, and while it came to him with ease, it did not persist in simplicity. Love did not have to be so complicated, yet it was.\n_ _\n\"Love is too supreme of an emotion to be kept easy. I believe you understand that well enough. You are, like I have told you, more acclimated and wise than I think you know. Capturing love, with those pictures of yours, it is a power that you wield flawlessly.\"\n_ _\nEros looked to the box nearest to him, and then to his son. It appeared that they would both receive gifts on this night.\n_ _\n\"Love takes various shape with whoever it attaches itself to. For some, it is known so well that it lacks profundity. To others, it will never be understood, or felt. It is more of an object to me than anyone else. I adore it, the love that people carry. Like you, I guide and observe it.\"\n_ _\n\nWhether it be impulse or the wisdom within his offspring, Eros took the box in both hands, offering it from across the table. Inside, Marco would find a costly, personalized camera strap. Made of genuine, black leather, and embroidered with the man's initials, it was only the onset of Eros's appreciation. He was finding, now, that there was much for them to learn.\n_ _\n\"A gift. I would like for you to keep doing what you do, Marco. With my support, I think that you will see love in more vivid... Lenses.\"\n_ _\n||" }, { "author": "Marco Vitali", "message": "Marco listened to his father speak. Words, like poetry, were easy for him, and that was just one more thing for the artist to hook onto; something that was similar between them. A brief thought of how similar they were fluttered through his mind. Even they had never met one another until recent, it felt as if this was what home felt like.\nIs this what the God of Love was capable of doing? Creating love in not only body, but in essence - into a person? \nOr was it coincidence that he, himself, found himself drawn to passion?\n\nThe demigod's eyebrows slanted in genuine focus and empathy as the God explained his own view of love. He was right, about all of it. \nA small smile raised the edge of his mouth as Eros looked away. Marco felt as if he'd been seen, and understood, for once. \nThere was no changing the past and all of his hardships had brought him to this exact moment. He could never take for granted the people's lives he enriched, even as his own grasp on love in his personal life was waning. \nBut like the moon going through it's phases, he finding it all over again.\n\n**\"It's been nothing short of an inspiration to converse with you about life and love-\"**\nHe took the box with a grateful touch, and opened it to peer to it's content. \n\n**\"Father... This is such a considerate gift..\"** \nMarco tilted his head back up, smiling wide at Eros, as he brought the camera strap up from it's cardboard cradle to look the engraving. \nThe pause and the wording wasn't lost on the demigod and his hazel eyes gleamed as he looked to the God again. He placed the strap back into the box.\n\n**\"I have a lot to learn, but I couldn't ask for a better teacher.\"** \n\nReaching forwards, Marco took hold of his wine glass, and raised it high enough for it to be obvious he was preparing a toast. \n\n**\"To new beginnings.~\"**\n\n||" }, { "author": ".+ Eros.", "message": "The gift was taken from one touch to the next, and Eros watched his son with such focus that he appeared juvenile. He ceased to move, anticipating a glint in his hazel eyes that would imply fulfillment. To the God, gift–giving was an act that absurdly lacked superficiality; his offerings were saturated in the tenderness of thought and feeling. A present from Eros was a treasure of scarcity, earned through the extremities of devotion.\n_ _\nEros had known what it was to be spoiled from prospered youth. No matter the country, he would become the locals' picturesque star, stifled in half–hearted affection. He was adored, probed, and gawked at. With a beguiling batting of the lashes, Eros was granted what his beauty was deserving of. A ritzy line of clothing, the most exorbitant diamonds. Never had he yearned long for a material object, for it would be placed at his feet in haste. The God did, however, yearn for the sentiment of a gift from those that wholly knew him.\n_ _\nMarco's gift to Eros was not meticulously wrapped in paper, but it was lodged in the bust of his chest, thumping away.\n_ _\n\nFrom Marco's smile, Eros became visibly enchanted with esteem. Drinking from his elation, Eros smiled in return, observing the strap's engraving in the restaurant's tactless lighting. Carelessly, Eros scrutinized portions of his son's face as if to inspect him and recall it in reminiscence. The deity was shrewd in his memory, but there were moments that he held closer to his precious heart than others. A pledge to guide Marco appeared to emanate from paternal commands, but in his scope of Godlihood, Eros knew that it held the properties of becoming more. The war among Gods had grown aggravated by a swelling hatred that even Eros could not take lightly. Savagery was grazing the mortal well–being, for the lust he perceived in the residents of Olympian stood as a veil for the sensation of fear.\n_ _\nEros grew radiant with both endearment and a brewing set of intentions. He lowered his head, voice playful and low.\n_ _\n\"I agree, anyone else would be a bore. Oh, we'll start off with an easy lesson. Filing through that wardrobe of yours, hm?\"\n_ _\n\nEyes of an appetizing blue looked to the glass of wine as it lifted ceremonially into the air. Naturally, Eros raised his own, the glass sounding as it struck Marco's.\n_ _\n\"To new beginnings. And new vacations, I hope.\"\n_ _\n||" } ]

[ { "author": "wolvengear", "message": "Perched in the core of *Eros Enclave* Resides one of many of the God of Desire's abodes. Overseeing buzzing streets and engulfed by towering establishments, there is a lone calm here that Eros does not often revel in. His penthouse is suited meticulously to his tastes. High ceilings beautified by bejeweled chandeliers, with an excess of windows for both organic lighting and the desire to observe. Complimented by decor of varying shades of red, illuminated by a sultry, dim lighting. Here, Eros channels an allure that is away from prying eyes." }, { "author": "HEDONE.", "message": "While mortals were known to celebrate a seemingly endless amount of holidays and special occasions as apart of their tradition, the same could not be said for a family of godly figures who were regarded as some of the most divine in the realm. Hedone was staunch in her approach to activities that didn't fulfil a layer of enjoyment and delight within her, however this dinner was the overruling exception. She cared dearly for her parents and appreciated the expanding opportunities afforded to her as a product of their union, but that often meant that their opinions of her were a non-negotiable factor of their relationship. Hedone was a confident, young goddess, full of immense possibilities for a future that she hoped would be seeped with pleasure, enjoyment, and delight - a path that wasn't as desirable to others. She didn't care nor allowed her attention to be stolen by the thoughts of those who do not understand that life was more than war and business, that taking time away from the complexities of this world was an under-utilised tactic that many could afford if they only believed in it's value.\n\nHer maroon dress with windows of nude illusion gracefully touched the ground as she walked into a home that was familiar to her. A soft, mood lighting shrouded her face in a shade of darkness, flickering in the candle's embrace as she passed by them. Hedone wasn't surprised by Eros' decor and setting, it was one aspect that he was likely the best in the cosmos at achieving. Her parentage was vastly unique in it's formation, two creative minds came together with love cementing their bond and gave birth to a goddess in her own right. While other children of gods were in the trenches of the heightening war, Hedone's mind couldn't be farther from eliciting any sort of influence over the unfolding events. War was not an avenue that brought her joy, it was the complete opposite. She was born from the embodiment of love and the mind, and the ramifications of violence and tyranny held no place in her internal thoughts and motivations.\n\nHedone slowly waltzed into the dining room area of Eros' condo, carefully traversing through the hallways lined with beautiful portraits and artefacts, a feeling of jealousy washed over her as she wished for a home that looked as divine as this. The dining table dressed with a stunning cloth and lined with intricate ornaments immediately caught her eye, her father always knew how to put on a display that was capable of taking your breath away. **\"It looks immaculate in here, as expected, father.\"** She walked over to her parents with a kick in her step now, leaning into them to plant a kiss on their cheek. They looked as though they hadn't aged a day despite the worries of the world becoming more prevalent of an issue each day.\n\n**\"I trust that the both of you have been taking care of yourselves, I believe we have much to catch up on... More importantly, do I have free reign of the alcohol cabinet tonight? I have my eye on something sweet, yet satisfying.\"** She pursed her lips, glancing over her shoulder to embrace the view from her father's home that overlooked a city that was rich with culture and love." }, { "author": ".+ Eros.", "message": "_ _\nˋ° • * ⁀ 𝓒 𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃'𝐒 𝓒 𝐀𝐋𝐋 ;\n_ _\n`Title .` Nourishing Connections.\n`Setting .` The Abode of Eros.\n`Characters .` Eros, Hedone, & Psyche.\n`Pings .` \n_ _\n࿐ ➴ ⨾ ₊˚ ໋ ꫂ ၴႅၴ\n_ _\n\nAt the peak of exclusive luxury, the God of Desire peered below to those that would never know the taste of it. Stretched along a plush couch with the physique of a regal feline, the glinting of Olympian's bustle placed a celestial glow in eyes of blue. A chilled cosmopolitan in hand, dressed in jewelry of silver that caught the uneven sway of the flame of candles— his beauty had no rival, even amidst warfare. Delightfully obscene and gently corrupt, Eros observed towering establishments and the glistening of signs as if he was large enough to flatten all of it. Tonight, however, he would not be the artful serpent of the night. Among his sublime bloodline, Eros flayed the skin of an entertainer and softened in their company.\n_ _\nIt was, endearingly, one of few occasions that Eros would not miss. Rarely would it be delayed, ending his holidays of leisure and impish escapades to be where he was now. In the midst of vast debauchery and the void of sin, he was nipped by the irregularity of normalcy when in their company. Psyche, his truest love that persevered even in the absence of lust, and Hedone, who swallowed life's raptures with a similar strain of his ardor. His two Goddesses, his forces that revealed to him all that he obtained and fell scarce of. Here, in alluring shade and lavish calm, he invited them in.\n_ _\n\nEros knew of Hedone before he caught glimpse of her, for she traversed with a striking divinity akin to his own. With rapids of blonde hair, with a dress that flowed and called, she could only be his daughter. Sweetly incidental, he wore a shirt of satin that was as scarlet as her own. His gaze deserted the cityscape to observe her, wearing shadows with the ease of gaudy jewels. Her praise emphasized the grace of his features, for he smirked in appreciation, tilting his head as if he anticipated her peck of a greeting. The cosmopolitan had chilled the pads of his fingers, and his free hand was utilized to lightly touch her arm. Despite her arrival that had been not long after Psyche's, he remained where he was, stretching his limbs and crossing them.\n_ _\n\"Oh, does it? Not much has changed, but the lamps are a recent splurge. You look lovely, Hedone. You must tell me who designed your dress.\"\n_ _\nEros took the cocktail glass by its slender stem, tilting it upward and taking a generous gulp. The tartness, a sweetened taste that he was well adjusted to, caused his tongue to rise to the roof of his mouth in delight. The illicit daemon turned his abdomen to face the two of them, sighing pleasantly through his nose. It smelt of an almost empyrean cuisine, gliding through each extensive room of the penthouse and surely to the rooms below. Eros substantially valued the tastes of a curated dish, and for those reasons, his designated chef took residence of the kitchen for their annual feast.\n_ _\n\nThe indication of alcohol allowed his gaze of affection to become polluted with common devilry. Eros took his legs from the couch to the rug of sheepskin below, leaning to place his glass on the nearest table.\n_ _\n\"Whatever you'd like, seems I've already had a head start. It was freshly stocked— just for you.\"\n_ _\nEros carefully evaded the discussion in regard to his life, as if he were unsure where to begin. The war, though not present here, selfishly took space. He held no concerns over himself, but he felt differently for Hedone. Assuredly did he know that the two of them could navigate life with success, yet his musing of the war's outcome swelled. At Poseidon's service, Eros gathered that this was no mere skirmish. It had begun to befoul the ignorant conduct of mortals, and it could be felt in the vexation of rain or elevation of tides. Eros could look to Psyche and know that she, too, understood.\n_ _\nThat did not show on his face, now. With his hands free, Eros stretched his arms along the sofa's backing, biceps notably toned in the fitting of his garments. In his slack stature, he seemed to wish for them to gather with him.\n_ _\n\"Dinner should be ready in a moment. Federico is... *Meticulous*, but the dishes are well–worth the wait. So, how has your work at the spa been, Psyche? I do not know why you bother with some of those patrons. Many come just to gawk your beauty.\"" }, { "author": "wolvengear", "message": "```SCENE CLOSED.```" } ]

[ { "author": "etherealqueen1", "message": "Location: Red XXX District, The Club\nWho: Nerissa and Malachai" }, { "author": "Nerissa Beaumont", "message": "\"I swear you sometimes scare me when you drive Mally.\" ***Nerissa exclaimed. Hours earlier, she had received a message from Malachai about going to the club with the rest of the band. It had been awhile since she last had a night out, though she often avoided them for a reason. Paparazzi were everywhere and nowhere at the same time, always concealed and waiting for something to be worthy of a story. Her sister Talassa had many stories written about her and her party behavior, though some of them were meant to overshadow any stories about Nerissa. It was why she avoided these things for so long, so her sister didn't have to do things to protect her. Yet, when she saw the message from Malachai she couldn't refuse the invitation. She missed being able to party without a care in the world, so this time she would. What is the worst story that can come out about her anyways? Famous actress parties with friends? She figured it couldn't be any worse than what's already been written.***\n\n***Nerissa had spent two hours getting ready for the night, but she did this early as they were going to stop for food beforehand. She needed to look her best, maybe he would finally notice her. Or, maybe things would continue like normal. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled, curled into beach waves and her bangs perfectly fluffed. She put on one of her favorite dresses she had yet to wear, a mauve purple dress that tied at the base of her neck and remained open along her back. Exposing the spinal tattoo she had. The dress glittered beautifully under light, so she knew it would look even better in the club. She did a simple makeup look, an eyeshadow that was somewhat darker than her dress with a bit of blue glitter to add some flare. Her lips painted a nude mauve to match her entire look. She then put on her favorite jewelry and most comfortable heels, ensured her dogs were okay, then left her apartment with her clutch in hand. Ready to embark on the night's adventures.***\n\n***Now, here she sat comfortably in Malachai's BMW. After she met up with Malachai and the band, she had to practically shove Dez out of the way to score her favorite seat... Shotgun. His complaints fell on her deaf ears, which still seemed to continue even after they stopped for some food. She hardly cared, and continued to smile in victory. Comfortably nestled in the passenger seat, Nerissa munched on her food while Malachai drove. She insisted on driving prior to this, but she was enjoying being the passenger now. That was... Until he did things that scared her a bit. Since she was in the seat beside him, she kept feeding him his food while he drove at least.*** \"Gods I never thought I would find french fries and a burger so delicious, I was starved. How much longer until we reach the club?\" ***She asked, taking a drink of her sweet tea.*** \"I was thinking when we get there we all do some shots first and then some actual drinks... Thoughts?\" \n\n***As she awaited their answers, she continued to eat her food. Ever so slightly glancing at Malachai from the corner of her eye. He looked very good... But he always did in her eyes. She knew she would need the drinks tonight, he often seemed to gain attention from others. Nerissa did herself... Though the attention was unwanted from her end. She would need the alcohol to withstand any he would gain, something to numb the jealous feelings that often came to the surface. It was to be a night of fun for all, not anything else.***" }, { "author": "Malachai", "message": "\"You only say that because you want to drive the Falcon.\" Malachai smiled over at Nerissa in the passenger seat, his eyes lingering on her bright blue eyes. Her blonde hair was curled at the ends and her dress was deviously short, especially as she crossed her legs and angled her body towards his. The food covering her lap was a mixture of his and hers. An occasional French fry found his mouth as she fed him while he drove. He had already heard it from Dez, first the groans of her taking his seat and then complaining that he could have fed Malachai just the same which much to his benefit garnered a chuckle from the entire car. \n\nMalachai had been excited for this night. They had planned it a couple of weeks prior for the end of rehearsals. It had started off as just a band outing, but he had finally gotten Neri to agree. Her fear of the paparazzi was the main reason she hadn't initially jumped at the idea and he couldn't blame her. The tabloids were vicious to her sister and after watching Neri struggle with a few headlines, he wanted to protect her. But protecting her also meant protecting her peace and her ability to have fun. He planned to pick her up in the private parking garage outside her apartment and enter the club through the back of the club - courtesy of an old friend who worked at the District. The plan for the night had been thought out thoroughly and while he was excited he was also nervous if anything were to go wrong. \n\nNow, as he listened to Neri and Dez banter he ignored the feeling of impending chaos. He shook his head at Neri, a small chuckle escaping his lips as she asked questions and then continued to stuff her mouth.\n\n\"We have time for one song,\" Malachai picked up his phone and handed it to her, smirking as he looked back and forth between the road and her. \"So pick wisely.\" They stopped at the light and Malachai unbuckled quickly, his foot firmly on the brake as he leaned over and took a bite of the burger in her hand as she took the phone\n\nFrom his.\n\n\"Ugh, you are right, this burger is delicious.\" He winked at her as the light turned green. He pressed on the gas, unbothered with safety in such a short distance. \"I think that sounds like a solid plan.\" \n\nGarrett grumbled from the back, having lost the draw for the designated driver. He was honestly the best one to get it in Malachai's opinion. He was the youngest of them and knew how to have fun without the influence of alcohol but what was worse was that he was a lightweight. Malachai shot a look in the review mirror at him before turning down the next street." } ]

[ { "author": "demiurgical", "message": "Psyche and Atlas spend the night together in a bar, where both gods get to know each other over drinks and conversation." }, { "author": ".* Psyche", "message": "The glow of candlelight flickered against mahogany tables in the dimly lit bar, the ambience of understated elegance stoked by the melody of soft jazz as two gods engaged in idle chat. Psyche had reviewed the shortlist for their venue for the night with great consideration; low-hanging chandeliers cast soft, golden light against the faces of buying punters, creating shadows that danced over each of the walls. The air was infused with the scent of aged wine which mingled perfectly with the murmur of hushed conversation, and the inspiring romance of the elongated notes of a saxophone in the backdrop. \n\nSecluded in a corner of the room, the blonde and her companion for the evening sat at a table illuminated just enough to create the perfect atmosphere. Her outfit was a masterpiece of elegance and allure; she wore a floor-length dress made of iridescent fabric that reflected the light like stars in the night sky, glimmering with every slight movement. The neckline was daring yet tasteful, adorned with intricate beading that drew the eye, but not too much. Her golden hair flowed in waves over her slender shoulders, her eyes sparkling like diamonds as she held eye contact with the man across the table from her.\n\nHe too embodied a sense of effortless sophistication, though still rugged in every sense of the word. He was dressed in smart clothing that emphasised his broad, muscular physique, a far cry from the loose-fitting t-shirt and jeans the goddess was used to seeing him in. His long mane, however, gave his look a touch of authenticity, helping maintain a sense of his identity even in an unusual haunt. His eyes were a striking shade of blue, holding a mischievous glint as they gazed at Psyche sat opposite him. \n\nTheir poison for the night was a vibrant cocktail of different drinks, staggered over the course of an hour or so. Leaning forward over the table slightly, the blonde's eyes were overcome with something of a glassy film and a pink haze as the effects of the alcohol began to take root. Hardly tipsy, but certainly no longer sober enough to care much about the thoughts of the other punters that surrounded them.\n\nThe atmosphere at their table was charged with a flirtatious energy, each glance and gesture laden with unspoken, uncertain promises of intrigue. Psyche's gentle laughter rang out like a melodic chime as she indulged the Adonis in her company - a scene of what could only be called chemistry in their intimate enclave. \n\n**\"You're quite the character, Atlas,\"** The goddess smirked as she idly circled her straw inside the glass of her drink. **\"And full of the most scandalous stories, so it seems. Perhaps we both had our fair share of trials...\"** Psyche trailed on, admiring him for a beat. **\"I would just love to hear more.\"**" }, { "author": "Atlas", "message": "Although he probably could be if given the proper guidance, Atlas wasn't exactly the kinda guy that came to mind in terms of sophistication. He was more the type to see something fancy looking and go \"Ooh, fancy!\" That being said, when Psyche chose their place to meet and drink, he had shown up significantly underdressed, especially in comparison to her. At first, the titan wondered why she wouldn't give him a heads up, but then again, that girl practically oozed sophistication. Knowing that was a warning in and of itself. As he bent to step into the doorway, he felt over a dozen pairs of eyes fixate on him instantaneously. The sensation of being watched was becoming more and more familiar to Atlas as the months passed by. Even down here, far beneath the lofty expanse of heaven's reach, people still gazed at him with wide-eyed wonder.\n\nAudible exchanges about his size and height circulate throughout the room in poor attempts at whispering. \"Guess I didn't get the memo for dress up day . .\" He whispered to himself as his eyes scanned the area full of suits, dresses and everything in between. As he released his grip from the top of the doorframe, he started to advance towards one of the workers to ask them about his date. \"Scuse me, pardon me, scuse me . .\" He said as he maneuvered through the waves of people, weaving his way forward. When he reached the table, the employee had just finished wiping it down and was in the process of turning around. The worker didn't anticipate the nearly seven-foot-tall titan filling the space behind him. As he turned, he crashed into Atlas's broad torso, causing him to jump in shock and toss the collection of wine glasses in his hands into the air.\n⠀\n\nThe glasses plummeted to the ground, though none suffered so much as a scratch upon impact. \"Shit, sorry, let me get that.\" He said as he reached to the ground.. \"Extra durability, huh? Great for times like this, right?\" Atlas said in an attempt to lighten the mood.. \"I'm here for Psyche, small pretty blonde lady? Probably wearing somethin' super shiny and out there? Can't miss her if you tried and yet I have.\" He inquired as he collected the last of the cups and handed them to the man. Even at this point, the worker had not completely come down from his shock. \"Uh, VIP Lounge, sir.\" He murmured out while pointing to the upside down 'U' shaped door with a red veil obscuring the insides. \" 'preciate cha, champ,\" Atlas said, patting the man on the back before he trailed off. Once he did find Psyche, he made it a point to compliment her beauty at least three times within the first 10 minutes of their initial exchange. She was gorgeous.\n\nThe dress seemed alive, twinkling like a constellation of stars in the night sky with every shift and turn. The neckline of her dress was a masterpiece, revealing just enough to tantalize without revealing too much, embellished with intricate beading that caught and scattered the light in mesmerizing patterns. Her golden hair cascaded in waves over her shoulders, framing a face that could launch a thousand ships. Her eyes sparkled like diamonds as they locked onto her companion's, holding his gaze with an intensity that seemed to draw him in, deeper and deeper. \n⠀\n\nThe two became entranced in their talks with seamless ease. They drifted off from subject to subject, interest remaining intact as the titan was in the process of finishing up a story. \"So then I went to lift the mouth cover shit off it and it just- snapped off the hinges and flew into space. The customers yellin' at me in some foreign language and that makes boss man come on over and then they both start yelling at me in a foreign language. Whole time I'm trying to tell them that I can't understand a word, wishing I knew what sorry meant in whatever the hell they were speaking. Then I thought I'd be courteous and take the uh- car? (He was still readjusting to the modern world) down from the thing that props it up- you know, the thing that lets us see what's under it, but I trip on something, fall forward, and the whole thing goes flying through the roof, making this giant hole in it. We're all looking in silence as the debris caves in and then within seconds, the whole shop is yelling at me, rightfully yelling. So I got out of there before the cops came. And by out of there, I mean out of the country. Aannnnd that- is how I lost my first job in an auto repair shop. I threw it on my resume anyway. It's funny until I remember how much debt that puts me in . .\" Atlas said half-humorously as he went for a swig of his vodka, his last words briefly turning his amusement into deep contemplation.\n⠀\n\nAs he swallowed the burning sting of the liquor, he felt its fiery warmth spread through his chest. He pursed his lips, scrunching his face into an exaggerated expression of skepticism, as if to say \"Nahhh,\" When she playfully referred to him as quite the character. His eyes twinkled with a mix of amusement and mild disbelief, clearly entertained by her remark but not entirely convinced of its validity. \"Eh, dumb luck lays the groundwork for a lot of good stories, that's all.\" He says humbly as he sets the bottle down on the table without releasing his grip. Occasionally, his eyes linger on her figure, appreciating its perfection. He's aware that she can see him doing this, but he doesn't care in the slightest.\n\nHer body was a study in elegant curves, the dress clinging to her like a second skin, accentuating every contour. Her shoulders gently sloped, leading down to a slender neck that seemed to invite soft caresses. The fabric hugged her waist, emphasizing its gentle curve before flowing out again, highlighting her hips in a way that was both sensual and sophisticated. What kind of man would he be if he refused to indulge in the beauty of a star that loved to shine so brightly? \"I'm sure you would love to hear more, the feeling is mutual and I happen to be great at bargaining so, you next. You can't be as perfect as you seem, clue me in on a time where you punted a kitten into space by accident with your powers or somethin'.\" He said as he planted his elbows into the table, folding his hands and resting his chin on top of his knuckles in preparation to learn something new about the goddess." }, { "author": ".* Psyche", "message": "Her presence was a calm and captivating force of feminine allure and striking beauty. Yet even then, the delicate elegance Psyche radiated belied a strength and disposition that was formidable as it was undiminished, her countenance a warm and inviting masterpiece of art and mystery. The bar itself was an oasis of casual yet refined comfort as they were both cradled in the soft glow of ambient light, proving above all else to be the perfect amphitheatre for a night of intimate storytelling and divulging their innermost secrets to each other. \n\nAs Atlas indulged her, she was helpless but to appreciate his strong, rugged features, softened by the warmth in his eyes and the easy smile on his lips. He had been talking for several minutes and the goddess found herself in awe of his ability to immediately engage her, suspense and anticipation beckoned beautifully by his enthusiasm and pacing. Psyche chuckled intermittently during his story as their conversation flowed, her laughter a telling sign of their quiet chemistry as his passion coaxed the sweetest of smiles from her. Like an electric current, it whipped them closer together, stoking both their desire to know more about each other as their eyes met in mutual and lingering appreciation.\n\n**\"Out of the** ***Country?\"*** The blonde asked pointedly with a bemused look. **\"Surely it wasn't that bitter of a dispute. I think you're pulling my leg, handsome.\"** Her full lips curved into a smirk as she stole a feigned, scandalous glance from him, eyes twinkling with a mild haze of mischief. **\"You seem the type.\"**\n\nShe took a sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving his as she leaned back and shook her head in mock exasperation and laughed once again. Its melodious sound drew the attention of several fellow patrons that snapped their heads around to follow the source of it, their prying eyes nothing more than fleeting distraction for the goddess who could hear their thoughts. Their camaraderie, it seemed, was equally as enjoyable for other guests, and no sooner than they turned their attention to the gods in their secluded cove, Psyche reached across the table to take Atlas' hand in her own. **\"You certainly have a talent for enthralling an audience. I'm quite glad you returned, even if you did venture overseas.\"**\n\nTheir eyes met for a moment, the world around them seeming to fade away and leaving only the two of them together. The invitation to share something equally as outrageous was tempting but frightening as she pondered it; since her early twenties, she had been an enigma to most of their kind over the millennia. Originally a princess of a kingdom long forgotten, she was not born into godhood like the rest of them, but instead a recipient of divinity through the completion of gruelling trials set for her by the mother of her former husband, Eros. **\"The story of** ***My*** **Life is far less stupendous, but arguably more melodramatic. You'll simply have to reserve all judgement until I finish the tale. But I assure you, handsome,\"** She smirked. **\"I am the furthest thing from perfect.\"**\n\nHer gaze drifted to the rim of her glass as she let go of the man's large paws, placing her right one over the left as she drew in a deep breath and gave an uncertain chuckle. **\"Once upon a time, I was a mortal princess. I say** ***'once upon a time,'*** **But really, it was an age ago. I was renowned for my beauty, and so much so, that my father's subjects turned their adoration towards me in the most egregious ways. Tantamount to worship, Aphrodite was quick to catch wind and through jealousy and rage, sent her son to seduce me and force me to fall in love with the most hideous creature imaginable.\"**\n\nShe paused as a faint smile touched her lips as Atlas became enraptured, listening to her every word. **\"It was truly awful. When he arrived, Eros fell in love with me and was regretful of his mother's obsessive tendencies, then whisked me away to his palace where he could keep me safe from her cruelty. He visited me every night under the cover of darkness and at first, went to great lengths to conceal his identity from me. Soon my sisters grew envious and deceitful, and it wasn't too long before they began to plot against me.\"** She remembered it like it was yesterday, how both of them had succumbed quickly to the tempting rewards of doing a god's dirty bidding. Their own sister no less - a fine price for the promise of riches and good favour. \n\nShe reached for her glass and picked it up by the bulb, swirling the red liquid around gently before lifting it and tipping it back against her lips, swallowing a mouthful. Then she set it back down on the table. **\"They convinced me to betray Eros. To look upon him while he slept, to see the true identity of the god that had been tasked to arrange my downfall. But when I did, I saw not a monster, but the most beautiful face I had ever seen. It startled me,\"** Her lips curved into a wry smirk once more as her French-tipped fingers prodded at the rim of the base of the wineglass. **\"And it woke him.\"**\n\n**\"Betrayed, he fled and left me alone with them. My sisters were happy of course - their plot to betray me was, by then, in full force. But they didn't stop there, and sought from that moment to plot my death entirely.\"** Her eyes drifted down the broad-shouldered canvas of sinew of the man sitting opposite her, rotating on the blunt knuckles on his left hand. **\"But Eros and I reconciled, and when we did, we decided to take drastic measures to save my life.\"**\n\nThere was a beat as she drew in breath, her eyes trailing slowly up his muscle-bound chest to his rugged face, settling sheepishly on his still eyes. **\"So we conspired to rid ourselves of them altogether.\"**\n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": "susanstorms", "message": "Hedone invites Artemis to her Pleasure Emporium to experience the feeling of pure delight without the need to shoot something." }, { "author": " +kHedone.", "message": "Golden ornaments dazzled in the bright lights of an adorned chandelier that cascaded over a warm-toned lobby, a testament to Hedone's desire to create the perfect welcoming environment for clients old and new. Her pleasure emporium had become a successful avenue for wealth, but more importantly, it had become a place where everything she desired was treated with profound respect and appreciation. Pleasure, enjoyment, and delight, were the founding factors that formed the basis of her operation, somewhere that mortals and other godly figures could become entrenched in the experience of exploring what makes someone truly and unfathomably pleasured. Intimacy was often the expected interpretation of Hedone's description of her business, but they were categorically incorrect. Pleasure wasn't a brain that thought with one idea, it was an overarching spectrum of different sensory tactics that leave the client feeling as though they have been transported to another realm.\n\nBusiness had been booming after an enigmatic god had spread word of her incredible talents across Olympus, and they were being bombarded by eager folk that were enticed by the idea of pleasure in its finest form. However, Hedone was not available for any mortal walk-ins, she was busy preparing for the arrival of a god that required a unique form of convincing to the benefits of pleasure. Artemis was a god who was as talented with a bow and arrow. As Hedone was to providing delight for others. Her exploits were known across the world, stories of a warrior who never missed, whose arrows were as deadly as her glaring stare. Hedone wasn't a stranger to her, but this experience was sure to be different for someone who spent most of their time hunting between the trees and the Earth.\n\nAs Hedone glanced over her shoulder to see her guest's arrival, her grin encompassed her entire feeling of seeing a renowned god step foot in a place of her passion. **\"My dear, Artemis, thank you for coming... I must admit I wasn't sure that you would accept my invite when we last spoke. It is understandable that many are weary of what kind of activities take place here, but I promise that you have made the right choice... We're going to take *Great *Care of you.\"** Hedone spoke softly, walking towards the lobby lounge that felt like sitting on a cloud, and patted the seat next to her for Artemis to take a seat.\n\n**\"I'd like to ask a question before we begin... It has made people uncomfortable in the past, but it is important for me to acknowledge that pleasure and enjoyment are different for everyone... What makes you happy? Joyful? What does Artemis enjoy doing when no-one else is around?\"**" }, { "author": "Artemis", "message": "She had no idea what had compelled her to accept Hedone'a invitation the last they'd spoke, perhaps a mix of awkward politeness directed towards an ally and peer, and a smidgen of intrigue at the promises Hedone had made. She was a goddess of simple, pure things, but even Artemis couldn't battle the temptation that had been promised. Life since returning to Olypmian had been less than enjoyable; meetings, arguments, skirmishes with the warring factions, all while maintaining a continuous presence in her domains. Nobody could blame her for wanting to unwind a bit right?\n\nArtemis' five and even maybe sixth senses were all immediately vigorously assaulted upon entering the lobby. The colors and lights themselves wouldn't have individually offended her decidedly experienced senses, but Artemis found the conglomeration of yellows and warm tones, in combination with the general air of wealth and finery of the decor, to be beyond her tastes. Her internal critic of Hedone's interior decoration were forgotten upon a voice calling her name. Hopefully nobody else was around to hear that, Artemis would have a godly aneurysm if rumors of her frequenting this establishment started to spread.\n\n\"I decided the least I could do was show up once considering you'd invited me.\" Hedone wasn't a goddess she was unfamiliar with per-say, but it most of existence she'd been inconsequential to anything that affected Artemis. However now with the war tearing on she'd decided to get to know each and every one of her allies, in the event of any future necessities where information might be useful. \"Oh, and, uh thanks for taking the time out of your day to have me. I'm sure you're very busy.\" Without further prompting she followed Hedone, obediently plopping down into the seat beside her, admittedly sitting closer as she had very little regard for other's personal space.\n\nArtemis was a dark spot in the light toned room; clad in a dark shirt, baggy camo pants, and black boots. With her golden red\n\nHair held back in something of a bun, something long and white that could be identified as a some sort of bone holding it together. Her face and skin were lightly splattered with splotches of mud and gore, although it looked like she'd tried to wipe most of it off before entering. \"I don't know.\" She answered brusquely, voice husked and a bit exasperated. \"I mean, I dunno, I couldn't say off the top of my head. I suppose hunting would be the obvious one,\" Her eyes scanned their environment, she doubted they had a private shooting range or something tucked away, \"Training and caring for my animals is a good pastime as well.\" Artemis was sputtering, she didn't want to be as rude and upfront as she'd normally be so she'd been attempting to entertain the question but gods she truly didn't know.\n||" }, { "author": "HEDONE.", "message": "It was pleasing to hear that Artemis had accepted her proposal regardless of whether it was integral to her own interests. However it was rather clear that she was in a space unfamiliar to her. The war had luckily not touched the confines of her treasured sanctum, a place Hedone regarded as somewhere that those invested in the ramifications of the war could forget about their responsibilities for a moment in time. She worked tirelessly to continue to expand on its reach, willing those who were graced with opportunities to visit, to continue spreading the word about the immaculate experience available to all. Artemis had unknowingly become one of the her most influential clients, a literal god amongst mortals who didn't know any better. It was an honour and a privilege for her to even step foot in the door. **\"I will never be too busy to attend to the needs of a god, Artemis. You are welcome here any time.\"**\n\nThe pleasures that brought Artemis joy were expected considering the godly makings of who she was, and Hedone had prepared an exceptional vessel to explore the intricacies of what makes her tick. She crossed one leg over the other as she listened, careful to keep an eye on the mortal traffic venturing around her building. Artemis was a figure that deserved privacy when it was afforded to her, and no one would dare threaten her illusive desires. **\"I must admit that I expected that answer. My mother told me stories about you when I was a girl, and while I cannot understand your fascination with it, our comforts are gifted, not chosen.\"** She glanced to her side, slowly nodding to one of her colleagues as they confirmed that the room was ready. **\"Pleasure awaits. Follow me.\"**\n\nShe walked down the dimly lit halls towards a room in the back that was hidden behind a golden door, painted with a portrait of a beautiful garden resting in the afternoon sun. The door opened to a dark room, a clear intention on her part, leaving only a moment before she stepped through. The first sensation that would ripple through the both of them was the touch of grass beneath their feet, the tingling of a soft breeze brushing through their clothes, and the sound of woodland creatures tickling their ears. All of their senses were heightened by Hedone's presence, strengthening the intensity to a limit that was intrusive but fulfilling. \n\n**\"How do you feel, Artemis?...The forest is so calming when its broken down into the aspects of it that directly interact with us.\"**" }, { "author": "Artemis", "message": "She paid a mindful ear to the other as they sat but her eyes, a pair of dastardly green things, filtered about the space fervently. Taking in all the sights and sounds it had to offer, she further examined the actual architectural layout of lobby; namely looking for exits, and casually taking note of the light foot traffic of the space. Artemis wasn't a widely recognized goddess, even amongst divinity she wasn't exactly familiar with a majority of the admittedly vast pantheon. However still her eyes cautioned upon each figure she identified, this wasn't a place she wanted to be seen. Artemis knew not the exact services and ongoings of Hedone's establishment but the general premise of providing pleasure tended to construed in sexual manners. Artemis couldn't even begin to imagine what her mother might think if she was here, much less so her father, she imagined some variety of smiting would befall somewhere.\n\nIn response to Hedone's assurance she returned only a singular 'hmm' of acknowledgement and gratitude, Artemis wasn't a goddess of flowery poetry and words like her brother. Her attention eventually would return to be limited upon Hedone at the mention of stories, \"Only the good ones, I hope. I'm really not as wrathful as some of them make me out to be,\" She lied, in only an attempt to placate any lingering fears Hedone may have associated with Artemis' visit. The arrival of the worker relieved her of some building anxiety, grateful not to continue any talk about what pleased her in such an open space. That gratitude immediately quelled by Hedone's chirped promise of pleasure, Artemis' more prude-ish nature stirring a quiet, \"Yay..\" As she stood and followed after the other.\n\nHer heavy boots stepped surprisingly muted behind Hedone as they went, remaining intentionally stationed directly behind the other as they traversed the dimming hallway away from the brightly lit lobby. Artemis subconsciously tracing their way, envisioning a planned exit strategy should th\n\nE need arrive. It was an unwarranted caution but it was she mindlessly committed nonetheless. With mild trepidation she passed through the threshold of the golden doorway, combat boots crunching quietly upon the grass as she went. Immediately Artemis' considerably trained senses were overloaded with varying stimulation, the combination of her own nature and the magnifying effect of Hedone's bombarded the goddess with more information than she'd anticipated. This incited only a tense clench of Artemis' jaw, that was remedied by a slow and steady breath. She took it as a moment to orient herself, to close her eyes and allow only the sounds and smells to fill her mind. \n\nUpon opening her eyes again she'd regained her steeliness, eyes flickering about to now examine the space in its fullest. She was indifferent to it, the compartmentalizing of certain aspects of nature was enlightening and refreshing certainly, but to her it lacked the wholeness and chaotic unity Artemis appreciated from the wild. \"It feels artificial, like looking at the unprepared ingredients of a meal. Everything's there it just hasn't been put together yet.\" The goddess's eyes, usually wandering landed squarely upon Hedone. Without the usual wary vigilance she'd displayed Artemis' gaze easily took on a remarkably predatory quality. \"Am I missing something? How should I feel, Hedone?\"" } ]

[ { "author": " Eris ", "message": ". E R I S \n┌ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ • ❦ • ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─\n\nTitle: Where Chaos Collides\nLocation: Red XXX District: VIP\nCharacters: Eris and Dinlas\nPings: \nNotes: \nSoundtrack: \n\n ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ • ❦ • ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ┘\n\nSoft melodies of background music pulsed against the headache that had formed in Eris' brain as she tapped her pen rapidly against the notebook in front of her. The persistent nature of the pounding like a rhythmic reminder of the lack of sleep and chaos the world currently held. The impasse had become like a fissure in the back of her head and while she knew she could easily make it go away with a mere thought, it posed as a warning. \n\nEris slammed her laptop closed and stood from the seat. She had been working on underground happenings for the past hour. The status of balance even in the bookkeeping was a constant reminder of potential failures. It had been weeks since the gala and days since even a whisper of rebellion had found its way to her spies. The dormant war was disappointing and she quickly needed to think of a way to spruce things up. She picked up the martini glass, quickly swallowing the contents before throwing it at the back wall. The small bouts of anger not even touching the pain.\n\nThe bartender flinched as it shattered and covered the floor beside him. She didn't bother to apologize to him. He had been standing there washing dishes and bathing in her annoyance for less than ten minutes and had barely been able to look at her. His fear radiates off like a beaten puppy. \n\n\"Clean it up.\" Eris growled under her breath. She turned towards the door to the back rooms and rubbed her temples as she walked. \"Once you are done, you're fired.\" \n\nA woman with short bright red hair popped out of the shadows, walking next to Eris as she quickly spoke. Eris prevented herself from rolling her eyes as she listen to the shrill voice, a look of concern on written on the girls face. Heather was fairly new, the third one in the past three months and despite her facial expressions and awful voice, she had been the best yet.\n\n\"What is it?\" Eris continued to walk, focused on reaching her office and locking it before anyone else could trespass on her fifteen minutes of solitude. \n\n\"You have a guest in the V.I.P. Area.\" She looked at Heather, narrowing her eyes as the curiosity sunk in. \n\n\"And who may this guest be?\" \n\n\"He wouldn't say, Throwing open the large double doors and down the long corridor, leaving Heather behind. The red and pink colors of the club quickly faded to red and black hues of seduction and intrigue. The hallway led to intricate parts of the club, each dealing with their own sins and opportunities for intrigue and discord. \n\nThe dark interior of the club was meant to create a time flux. The idea that it was always after dark within the confines of the Red XXX District led mortals and mystics alike to never want to leave. The small hallucination mixed with red lotus shots were a sure fire way to loop people into the chaos of debutchury. Eris had loved the idea when she had come up with it but soon she had limited their interactment together. Far to many people who either took advantage of her business or couldn't pay up. \n\nEris walked up the stairs, the balcony over looking the club was secluded and shielded from the eyes of anyone on the lower floor but the ability to watch, to speculate those below was worth money. More than she had originally thought. It had helped exponentially when she added the silk show. Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she walked to the far end of the balcony, pushing the red curtains to the side. Black combat boots instantly stood out, resting on the very expensive coffee table. Her eyes followed the length of his body, quickly finding his face. \n\n\"Dinlas.\"" }, { "author": "Dinlas", "message": "Every step he had to take outside his familiar realm of quiet afterlife pissed him off—but not as much as that very same quiet did. There was a gods-damned war up here being fought by none other than the forces that control every bit of fabric this world was weaved out of it. He had stewed over it for quite some time, and could for generations to come and go in a blink of an eye, but anymore stewing and the pot would boil over. He was silverware in the microwave; spinning around and around and going nowhere only to explode in sparks and shards of rusted, mid-century metal. \n\nThe club was dark. Good. In combination with the polarized sunglasses concealing his eyes, perhaps he'd go unrecognized (not like the reclusive god was popular in the first place). No, Dinlas rarely got out, because when he did, shit was likely going down. Otherwise, this world bored him with its mundane predictability. He would never admit that the sunglasses that clung to his collar now that he had made his way to VIP lounge made navigating the dimly-lit space all that more difficult... Nor would he admit the tiniest bit of relief fell over him when a member of the staff had pointed him in the right direction. The feeling was fleeting, disappearing as soon as she dared open her mouth and ask him for his name. The glare behind the glasses told her all she needed to know. \n\nIn the lounge, he felt far more at ease without passing glances catching him in their sweeps over the club. Down below, the soft hum of the night filled the air with white noise. Dinlas' mind drifted a bit while he awaited his audience. What sorts of debauchery had he passed by on his way up here? He imagined all the wild things he may have missed in the swirling mass of bodies. Perhaps someone was meeting their end, asphyxiated by the sweet aroma of the club and the pure silk necktie crushing their windpipe softly and slowly. It was an exciting thought: surrounded by chaos born from overindulgence.\n\nA thought that was swiftly dismissed as the sound of approaching footsteps rose above the hum. Two pairs, Dinlas picked up, both rushed, but one was far more powerful than the other. Angrier. As he relaxed into the plush furniture, feet up on the table besides an untouched cocktail, he prepared himself mentally for a meeting between gods. \n\nThe woman swatted away the curtains that had secluded the room. Behind her, the second pair of footsteps halted before the threshold. He wouldn't sit up straight or move to greet her where she stood. Instead, Dinlas met her ferocious eyes poker-faced. \n\"Eris.\" The owner of this here establishment and the very woman he had come to see. \n\n||" }, { "author": " Eris ", "message": "Plump red lips lifted in a small smirk as Eris leaned down and pushed his feet off of the table. His carefree demeanor matching the lax way he lounged on the couch in obvious boredom. She met his dark eyes with her vibrant green as her name came from his lips. The subtle tilt of her head to the side made her blonde hair fall from her shoulder as she narrowed her eyes at him. It had been a moment since she had seen the god of hatred, her counterpart in chaos, and now the bastard child of Ares and Aphrodite sat before her like he owned the place. His dark attire and appearance were a compliment to the red interior and sultry lighting. The underworld had taken Dinlas and coated him in their abyssal fashion; painting him in the same dark hues in which Eris was birthed from. A piece of home in the form of an angsty god. \n\nEris wanted to laugh at the whole predicament now as his parents basked in their infidelity like a proud accomplishment. Their selfishness evident in the man before her. While she had her own relations with both god and goddess, she also felt a kindred spirit to Dinlas. Both having grown up in the underworld, either unwanted or rarely acknowledged. Only chaos would want discord, only strife would seek hatred. \n\n\"Leave us,\" She turned to the frozen assistant and waved her hand in dismissal. Their conversation may not need to be private but she was growing tired of the assistant's insistent company. Eris stepped into the small enclave and shut the curtains behind her before a word could be spoken. The thick fabric deafening the reverb of the club, calming the subtle pulse of her mind even as the music played in a soft hum. Eris stepped around the table and sat next to the god, crossing her legs and angling her body in his direction. Comfortability in familiarity.\n\n\"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?\" She knew if chaos was visiting discord, things were truly as bad as she thought. The migraine that she had let aggravated her like a moth to a flame; seeking a remedy." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "Eros Enclave features the Amor Art Gallery, a space where artists display works that explore the themes of love, desire, and connection. Paintings, sculptures, and installations capture the essence of Eros's influence on mortal and divine relationships, providing a thought-provoking and sensual experience for visitors." }, { "author": "Marco Vitali", "message": "In a side building of the gallery was a one level studio. Eros had graciously gifted his son the chance to use it for his photography business, and many a night Marco had stayed late to perfect his setup, perform test shoots and work on editing. \nThough as he caught up on all the outstanding orders from before his move, he was looking for more opportunities to beef up his portfolio. \n\nMarco was struck by the appearance of Ganymede on an afternoon when company was over. Slowly the demigod had been meeting and gaining knowledge of other Gods with his father's help.\nGanymede had caramel skin, piercing eyes and a smile that lit up a room. He had the essence of a young 20-something, and Marco would be lying if that alone didn't make him feel like he was much older than he was. Granted, he'd never met someone like him, and the demigod was already studying him as if he was a muse. He explained his interests and his want to photograph him for his portfolio, without delving *Too* Deep. Thankfully Ganymede accepted.\n\nIt wasn't the next day, but at least three or four days afterwards that the photoshoot was planned for. He needed props, light film and other accessories that he tried to gather secondhand. He has left most of his belongings back in the States. Originally, he hadn't set out to move here, but rather take an extended vacation with no real end.\n\nIt was merely another few moments before Ganymede should arrive. The demigod was easing over some emails and sorting the files from his sd card to his laptop. Sticky notes lined the contour of the device, reminding him to talk to some of his partnerships in the States and update them on his extensive leave. \nHis camera was already set up over a soft white backdrop that covered at least half of the main back wall, plus 4 feet out and above. \nHe heard a click of the door latch and turned, the illumination of the screen lighting his face in the otherwise dark room. The only other light came from the setup itself.\n\n**\"Ganymede? Glad you could make it. How are you feeling? Nervous? Excited?\"**\n\n||" }, { "author": "GANYMEDE", "message": "The morning sun painted the sky in hues of purple and orange, and its gentle golden rays filtered through the penthouse windows, caressing the sleek surfaces and infusing the space with a warm glow. The distant chirping of birds roused Ganymede from his peaceful slumber, prompting him to cast aside the white linen sheet and rise from his bed. His morning routine, a refreshing shower and indulgent facial cleansing, was a prelude to the day's adventures.\n\nGlancing at the calendar, Ganymede's eyes lingered on the packed schedule for the day. A meeting on Olympus, a rendezvous with Hyacinthus in the meadows, and the much-anticipated photo shoot with Marco Vitali in the evening. The thought of the photo shoot, a chance to unravel the mystery that was Marco, stirred a mix of excitement and curiosity in Ganymede. There was something about the demigod that intrigued the god, something he couldn't quite put his finger on yet.\n\nAfter a long day, the god returned home to freshen up and change clothes for the photo shoot. It was the last thing on his schedule, and Ganymede was excited but nervous because he had never done something like this before. The butterflies in his stomach further proved his anticipation and anxiety as Ganymede went through several outfits before finally landing on something he liked. As the god was leaving the penthouse, he quickly texted Marco to confirm his whereabouts.\n\nFinding the Amor Art Gallery took him a moment. Ganymede, typically occupied in Olympus, attended to his duties for King Zeus and other gods and cherished the rare moments of his free time. However, Hebe graciously agreed to assume his responsibilities for today so he could participate in this photo shoot. *I should find her a token of appreciation for this.* Ganymede mused as the young god stood outside the galley. Yet, it was the adjacent one-level studio building, nestled beside the Amor Art Gallery, that the god sought.\n\nAfter mustering his courage for a few moments, he delicately nudged the door, producing a faint click as he entered the studio. Apart from the setup, the room was primarily dim, with soft lighting casting a glow over the white backdrop and Marco's handsome face illuminated by the computer screen. **\"Hi, Marco.\"** His eyes lingered on the demigod, a radiant smile gracing his lips as he waved. **\"I am excited and nervous. This is entirely new to me!\"** He chuckled, taking a step further into the room.\n\nGanymede subtly looked Marco up and down. He had seen him before with company, but the god could fully observe him without distractions. He had the kind of face that stopped anyone in their tracks; from the depth of his eyes to his muscular form, Marco was handsome like a chiselled statue. It wasn't surprising, considering Eros, one of Ganymede's closest companions, was the demigod's father.\n\n**\"You will have to walk me through this.\"** His tugged away at his cream jumper, glancing around the studio. **\"How are you, I forgot to ask!\"**" }, { "author": "Marco Vitali", "message": "A smile stayed on Marco's lips as he crossed the room to greet the God, disengaging from his laptop. \nStepping up to Ganymede, he placed his hand on his lower back, and eith his other hand, motioned to the other wall. \n\n**\"I'll guide you, not to worry. It isn't difficult, I promise.\"** \nHis hand hovered over the little sweater that Gany wore, trying not to touch him too much and make him uncomfortable. They were merely acquaintances at this point. \nMarco always aimed to make his guests feel as welcome and as comfortable as possible.\n\n**\"The day has been good, but I've honestly been looking forward to - well *Now*, all day.\"** \nThere was a little sheepish tint of pink to his cheeks, as he divulged the truth of his excitement. \n\n**\"Really, all you need to be is yourself. Stand there a moment.\"** \nMarco had lead Ganymede to the opposite wall, where the backdrop was. He started moving a few of the light poles around, holding one as he moved it a bit closer.\n\n**\"You may keep your shoes on or take them off, whatever is more comfortable. I'm just going to adjust the lights.\"**\n\nThere was a moment of silence as Marco maneuvered the head of a light. He stepped around to another on the other side, catching Ganymede's eyes and giving him a genuine, soul healing smile. \n\n**\"Tell me, what is your favorite part about yourself? And don't skimp out on me. The camera will capture if you're lying. It's a mirror just as much as is it an eye. Tricky little thing.~\"**" }, { "author": "GANYMEDE", "message": "Ganymede's body reacted instantly to the gentle pressure against his lower back, a sensation that Marco's touch suddenly elicited. It sent a thrilling shiver down his spine, awakening a subtle excitement within him. **\"Please! If you would be so kind, Marco. Like I said, I'm new to this.\"** He nervously chuckled, his voice betraying his anticipation. The young god leaned into Marco's gentle touch, a silent consent that the demigod could keep his hand against his back as he guided him towards the setup.\n\nAs a Love God, he was well-versed in the purity and intensity of romantic bonds revolving around same-sex relationships, evoking admiration and carnal desires from both mortals and immortals alike. Yet, something about Marco intrigued the young god, a deeper desire that needed to be embraced, which he was willing to help with. Ganymede couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there he stood in the dimly lit studio alone with the demigod, his heart palpitating at the moment.\n\n**\"Oh. Is that so? Well, I'm glad to hear your day has been good. I have also been looking forward to this. . .\"** His radiant smile beamed, taking note of the sheepish tint of pink flushing Marco's cheeks. The same applied to Ganymede, though he attempted to hide it by slightly shifting his head. However, the excitement in his voice was noticeable no matter how hard he tried to hide how he felt about their meet-up.\n\nStanding in the correct spot with the lights shining brightly on him, Ganymede observed the demigod closely as he started moving a few of the light poles around and then manoeuvring the head of one of the lights. Marco really was handsome; even though he'd already made this observation, he kept catching Gany's eye. **\"Okay! But I'm keeping my socks on for now! Unless you take those types of pictures-. . .\"** The young god jested, gracefully slipping his shoes off and placing them aside.\n\nThen, Marco asked him a question that surprisingly caught the god of homosexual love and desire off guard. It wasn't something he'd been asked before because mortals and immortals considered Ganymede the most beautiful mortal alive, and he had to think it through thoroughly. **\"Hmm. . . That is an excellent question and a hard one, too. I would have to say. . . My eyes! I believe them to be the windows to the soul. They reveal a lot about their inner feelings and emotions.\"** He chuckled, batting his brown doe eyes at Marco.\n\n**\"What about you, Marco? What would you say is your favourite part about me? From a photographer's point of view, of course!\"** He was intrigued to hear what the demigod had to say by firing the question back to Marco as he swayed on the spot, waiting to be told what to do since it was his first time. **\"Also, what would you say is your favourite part about yourself, too?\"** He may as well ask because Ganymede thought of him as perfect based on appearance alone.\n\n**\"Is there any chance you could pose me? I'm struggling to find a pose I like.\"** Ganymede somewhat pleaded, a warm smile gracing his lips." }, { "author": "Marco Vitali", "message": "At this point, and after a divorce that left the man more free than caged by any of his own insecurities, he didn't think too much about romance. It was ironic, considering he was Eros' son. Yet, his aura was always welcoming, even if his kind nature was seen as flirtatious. \nWell... There might have been some truth to it. \n\nGanymede's smile was bright and beautiful, aimed right at him. That wasn't the only thing that Marco found himself blessed by. Like a camera, the God's eyes followed him. \nIt was possible that he was merely nervous and didn't know where to look... Yet the demigod couldn't be that ignorant nor dismissive. \nAfter photographing thousands of couples, he knew the spark of admiration that gleamed in people's eyes when their heart was warm.\nMarco was overall flattered to catch the eye of such a beautiful, immortal being.\n\nHowever, he'd never considered a man. \n\nMarco shook his head, and gave a little chuckle at the mention of feet pictures. \n\n**\"No, no. None of those here. Though, I don't doubt every inch of you is radiant.\"** \nHis eyes finally peered from beneath his eyebrows at Ganymede. He meant that statement, with an unwavering tone - yet soft, like the most comfortable bedding.\n\nAt the request of assistance to be posed, Marco's fingers grazed the pole of the light he'd adjusted gingerly, before giving Ganymede another smile. \n\n**\"Ofcourse. I understand it is be a bit overwhelming..\"** \nClosing the distance between them, the demi god carefully took Ganymede's arms, just barely turning his torso. \n\n**\"Keep your pelvis straight, yes, sort of as if you are looking back - Very good.\"** \n\nHe took Gany's chin with a delicate touch and directed his face.\nThe heat from one another could be felt, and Marco glanced all around Ganymede's face, studying his features since he was much closer than before. Truly, he was thinking of what kind of shadows would be most interesting, what\n\nSide of him should he try lighting up next, what were his skin's undertones. If he used colored light, he wanted to make sure it wouldn't wash Gany out.\n\n**\"There. Now relax, settle into the pose and make it your own. There's no reason to look like a statue.~\"** He chuckled, stepping back and towards the tripod he left his camera at a few feet away." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "At the heart of Eros Enclave lies the Aphrodite's Secret Lounge, a sultry and opulent space where gods and mortals come together to revel in the pleasures of love and desire. The lounge features plush seating, soft lighting, and enchanting music that creates an intimate ambiance. Divine mixologists craft elixirs that ignite passion and infuse the air with an irresistible allure." }, { "author": "Adonis", "message": "Another night, another party with his Uncle Plutus. As was standard at this point, the two gods had met up at a local club that they both favored for hours of inebriated fun. As they claimed their normal booth in a darkened corner, Adonis went to the bar to order drinks for the table and himself.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" A soft voice spoke over the roar of the club, reaching his ears just as a dainty hand reached out to caress his arm. \"Is this spot taken?\" \n\nPulling back from the bar, Adonis turned, flashing the woman a sultry smirk as he slowly dragged his eyes over her body. \"It is now.\" \nThe woman smiled and sidled up closer, wrapping her arm around his without hesitation before leaning her head against his shoulder. No more words were spoken between the two as Adonis continued to order drinks - because there didn't need to be. He knew why the woman was there, so possessively attaching herself to him as though he were a gazelle surrounded by starving lions. She may as well have been drooling, the way her eyes swam and cheeks flushed with her desire for him. It was flattering. \n\nOr at least it used to be.\n\nStill, after what was starting to feel like an eternity of being desired by nearly everyone to lay eyes upon him, Adonis became numb to the adoration. This was why he spent so many of his nights at bars and clubs in the arms of strangers, under the influence of different drugs and alcohol, until he couldn't remember the last person he kissed or the previous one-night stand. It helped to perpetuate the lie that he was happy being promiscuous and unattached.\n\nAfter a few rounds of shots, he leaned in close to the woman until the smell of the alcohol on their breaths began to mingle together. \"Care to dance?\" He asked, ensuring his voice was low, enticing, and barely audible. \n\nAs always, there was no hesitation in answering his question, so the two made their way to the packed dance floor. In a matter of seconds, they went from locked arms to intertwined bodies, rubbing against each other to the beat of the music as the heat of the surrounding crowd started to make them sweat. \n\nAfter a few songs, Adonis noticed his uncle waving and pointing at the bar, indicating that they were out of liquor and that he couldn't be bothered to order it himself. With a smile and an eye-roll, he pulled himself away from the woman, watching as she pouted and tried to close the distance he had just created. \"Sorry, love, but duty calls.\"\n\nIt took only a little more effort to leave the woman behind as she had not been compelled in any way by the god so that Adonis could make his way across the club relatively easily. As he stepped up to the bar, the server turned to him instantly, leaving whomever they had been serving in the middle of their order. \"What'll it be?\" \n\n\"The usual—your most expensive bottles, please!\" He watched as the bartender nodded and turned to fulfill his request, the person they had just been speaking to waving at them and failing to get their attention before glaring at him. With an apologetic smile, Adonis shrugged, feeling a little bad as the person stormed off to the other side of the bar. *I'll have to buy them a drink later.*" }, { "author": "asha daskov", "message": "Difficult days were the reason late nights at clubs existed, and difficult days were becoming a lot more frequent as the war went on. More and more, Sasha found himself stepping out of the hospital and right into a club to finish his long hours off with a few drinks, a lot of dancing, and someone new in his bed. It was the easiest way to temporarily forget the issues plaguing the world around him, to put the trauma of what he had seen at the hospital to the back of his mind. To let loose and feel *Human* Again. \n\nThat night was no different. Sasha was fresh off of a twenty hour shift after a battle between the gods collapsed an office building full of people. Patients were wheeled in one after the other, sorted through triage, and then received by whichever doctors had an opening to squeeze them in. Sasha lost count of all the emergency surgeries he had to perform, all of the people he lost on the operating table. \n\nMany might think a doctor might want to go home and rest after a day like that. Take a hot bath, eat some ice cream and then pass out in bed watching trash TV. And while those types of nights always had their appeal, Sasha couldn't help but feel wired once he got off of work. Too awake and too on edge to settle down. A night out at the club before passing out in someone's arms was exactly what he needed to push out all of the negativity trying to sink into his thoughts. \n\nDressed in tight pants meant to draw the eyes toward one of his best assets and a crop top that could barely count as a shirt, Sasha took on the dance floor at Aphrodite's Lounge after getting at *Least* Three Sangrias in him. The first one was more than enough to get him buzzed, but the next two solidified the feeling he was looking for. Tingly, loose. Carefree.\n\nWhen he reached his fourth drink and was starting to pass the party stage and onto the emotional rollercoaster, he noticed a familiar figure lounging in the corner of the club. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision and get a better look at the god bathing in wealth and luxury - Plutus. His actual father by blood - a fact that Sasha had yet to come to terms with. \n\nThe alcohol worked its dark magic and pushed Sasha to tears as his thoughts suddenly filled with ideas about his mother being so desperate for money that she went to Plutus for a one-night stand. Without that sacrifice, he would have never been born, but it still made him sick to his stomach knowing what she had to do. Overwhelmed by his feelings, he exited the dance floor to sit at the bar, ordering a water so he could start cooling off. He glanced back over toward the god of wealth, observing him in his natural habitat - how he dressed, how much he drank, who he surrounded himself with. \n\nOne man stood out more than the others in his company, mostly because he was *Very* Much Sasha's type and nearly flawless on top of that. Sasha found his attention getting stuck on him for a moment, watching how the two interacted, and wondered how they knew each other.\n\nHe lost track of how much time went by while he sat at the bar. He drifted in and out of consciousness before finally snapping awake after his head nearly dropped onto the bar counter. He sat up fast, looking toward the corner again where he saw Plutus was sitting alone. Maybe now was his chance to approach his actual father for the first time - to try talking to him. \n\nJust as he was about to build up the courage to go over there, Plutus's companion appeared at the bar to order some drinks. Sasha glanced at him before coming up with a better idea than to approach his absent father. Maybe he could talk to his friend and get a feel for him first.\n\nNow sober enough to walk in a straight line and think a little clearer, Sasha stood up from his seat and wandered over to the large, handsome blonde, putting on his best smile. He cleared his throat. \"Excuse me,\" He said, realizing his voice was a little too quiet. Sighing, he tapped the man's shoulder and leaned a little closer. \"Excuse me!\"" }, { "author": "**.,Adonis,.**", "message": "While Adonis waited on the bartender, he let his eyes roam the bar and dance floor, taking in the scene with a sense of hollow comfort. Inwardly, he shook his head, trying to shake the feeling - he wouldn't allow himself to dwell on the emptiness and how it seemed to grow, little by little, every time he tried to ignore it. Time with Plutus was a good distraction, as was any moment in the throws of passion with a stranger, but distractions were only good for a few hours at best, and when those hours were over, the pang of loneliness always seemed to ring stronger than before. \n\nAs if sent to snap him out of his spiral, the server appeared with a smile and four different types of liquor, varying in taste but not in price. (Adonis could tell just by their labels that they were expensive.) Good. \"Thank the gods.\" He breathed as he reached out and effortlessly took the bottles. \"Add it to our tab, please!\"\n\nHe was about to leave the bar and return to Plutus when he felt a soft tap on his shoulder and a strained \"Excuse me!\" Over the club's noise. Turning to the presence, Adonis first saw nothing, blinking momentarily in confusion before angling his head to look down. A small man stared at him, leaning in close and giving him plenty of opportunity to take in his slender features, even in the dim lighting. He couldn't help but flash his candid Adonis smile, leaning down so he was even closer as he took in the man's appearance - everything from the curls of his hair to the mesh crop top and chains looped through his tight pants. \"Hello, love~\" \n\nHe gave the man a moment to react, to smile back at him in complete lustful expectancy before undoubtedly attaching himself to his arm, waist, or neck. \"I was just about to head back to my table for a drink, and I would never turn down such lovely company.\" Adonis stood to his full height once again and extended an arm, waiting for the man to take it so he could lead him back to where Plutus was no doubt impatiently waiting for hi\n\nS drinks. \"Join me, would you?\"\n||" }, { "author": "asha daskov", "message": "Nothing could have prepared him for the stranger's reaction. Sasha had dealt with arrogant men before - himbos who *Knew* They were good-looking and were used to getting all the ladies and gentleman - but they usually weren't so presumptuous. Normally, they tried to flirt before inviting him to dance or drink or whatever else - not immediately upon checking him out. \n\nThe man definitely had the looks; he was tall, muscular, and had the blonde hair, blue-eyed combo that Sasha loved. Even he had to admit that the sight of the stranger made his breath catch. He forgot what he was trying to say for a moment, and was slow to process what the man had actually said to *Him.* Completely lost in those beautiful blue eyes until the words finally registered.\n\n*\"I was just about to head back to my table for a drink, and I would never turn down such lovely company.\"*\n\nOn a normal night out, Sasha would have been flattered. He would have been just as sassy and over-confident and willing to jump into this man's company without hesitation. But he had been through an emotional roller coaster all day - from a long, draining day at work to the mental turmoil of seeing his real father. His patience was non-existent, and his ability to be charmed was a lot harder than normal. \n\nHe jutted his hip out to the side and raised his eyebrows, his neck craning back as he took in the man's appearance - as if he hadn't already - like he was sizing him up. \"Excuse me?\" He asked with all the attitude he could muster as he crossed his arms over his chest. \"That's very presumptuous of you, hun. All I wanted was to ask you something, but never mind. I'll find my answer somewhere else.\" He wasn't sure where, but he couldn't bring himself to pose the question and give this himbo anymore of his time. \n\nOf course, he had no idea he was talking to *The* Adonis, but things probably wouldn't have been different if he did." }, { "author": "**.,Adonis,.**", "message": "As Adonis held out his arm expectantly, his smile morphed into a smirk, knowing that the man's indignant attitude would melt away under his presence, but the longer he waited, the more his smile fell into a confused gawk. At first, the sass was cute, but as the man angrily reprimanded him, his brain started to short-circuit. This... This was *Not *What usually happened when someone approached him. *Especially* Not while at a bar, dressed in a fishnet crop top and tight jeans. \n\nRegaining his composure, Adonis replaced his shock with a smolder that had a history of making people weak at the knees. A flirty chuckle escaped his lips as he said, \"It's not presumptuous if it's true, Love.\" The man's intentions were becoming more apparent. He wanted to ask Adonis for a dance, drink, or even a date. Adonis had thrown him off by asking first. Inwardly, he sighed in relief-he couldn't fathom what it would mean if the man *Wasn't* There for his looks and body. What else did he have to give that people wanted, anyway?\n\nHe nodded back to the booth where Plutus sat, shuffling the bottles around to one arm so he could extend a hand to the man instead. \"It's okay; there's no need to be shy. I'm a gentleman, I promise.\" He finished with a wink. \n\nAs he waited, he heard a familiar voice shout from deeper in the club. \"Adonis! What's taking so damn long? I'm *Parched*.\" \n\nThe blonde rolled his eyes, the smile never leaving his lips as he tried to ease the beautiful stranger's feelings. \"Don't worry about my uncle. His bark is far worse than his bite.\"\n||" }, { "author": "asha daskov", "message": "The stranger's expression wasn't one of someone who had just been brutally denied all expectations and Sasha began to wonder if he even understood what just happened. As his face changed - was that an intentional *Smolder?* - it became clear that he didn't take the rejection to heart. In fact, he seemed to be encouraged by it somehow. Sasha met many men in his past that never took the first no as an answer, but the way in which this man handled it was *Different.*\n\nWhat normally would have had Sasha weak in the knees was actually pushing the opposite effect. Maybe it was due to the long, emotional day at work, or maybe it was the bitterness of seeing his father. Either way, that beautiful expression on that handsome face wasn't working on him.\n\n\"Did you not hear me?\" He asked, retaining the sass in his tone. \"I'm not here for *You.* I came over to ask a question that had nothing to with—\" Sasha went for the jugular and looked the stranger up and down as if he was assessing his entire body. \"—*This.*\" No matter how handsome his face or how much his muscles bulged. \n\nHis eyes followed the stranger's motion over to the booth where his father sat - who was waving them down and shouting as if he couldn't get up and walk himself over to the bar - and his frown deepened. The idea of speaking to him now was only worsened by the pretentious attitude of his new acquaintance.\n\n\"I'm not shy. Just not interested. But thank you.\" He couldn't have dripped more sarcasm into those last words if he tried. He spun on his heel and turned to walk in the opposite direction, feeling both empowered and a little disappointed. \n\nDisappointed in the stranger - who had no right to be so beautiful. \n\nDisappointed in his father - who sat clueless and helpless in the corner booth. \n\nAnd disappointed in himself for letting his feelings get the best of him when the night was supposed to be fun and stress-relieving." }, { "author": "**.,Adonis,.**", "message": "Adonis smiled through the stranger's tone, trying his best to coax him forward. \"Of course I hear you, I just—\" But he was quickly cut off. As he continued, the confusion returned, but this time the god of beauty was left completely dumbfounded, and it was clear as day as the expression on his face shifted from a sultry smirk, to an open-mouthed stare, then pure shock and pain. He HADN'T come over to talk to Adonis because of his natural charm and good looks? What else could he possibly want? What else could he possibly GIVE?\n\n\"I... No... But... Wait!\" He stuttered, trying to find the words to smooth over whatever hellish anomaly was occuring, but was unable to find them before the man stormed off. He watched in horror as he started to weave through the growing crowd, and before he could think better of it, Adonis chased after him. He nearly dropped the bottles of liquor on the bar before running after the stranger, never hearing Plutus' cries of frustration as he became focused on one thing. \n\nFinding out if his beauty had vanished.\n\n\"Wait, please!\" He called out again, stepping in front of the man with an almost breathless look about him. \"I'm sorry, I'm just... I'm confused.\" And his face showed it, the concern present in everything from the crease of his brow to the way he almost seemed like he was struggling to breathe. \"No one ever... Well, they never approach me for anything other than... Well, you know.\" He gestured at himself in a way similar to the way the stranger had moments ago. \"Please, I must know.\" He paused, reaching out the rest of his hands on the man's shoulders as he stared into his eyes, desperately searching for an answer.\n\n\"Am I still beautiful?\"" }, { "author": "asha daskov", "message": "The loud thumping bass vibrated the entire room, drowning out voices with a mix of synthetic violin and rhythmic horns. The stranger's last words were lost somewhere among the music, the gyrating bodies, the stumbling drunks. Sasha disappeared into the crowd, weaving around couples and groups, dodging splashed drinks, and avoiding flirtatious glances. He didn't expect the man to follow, having been so thoroughly denied, but moments after his escape, he was cut off. \n\nThe stranger stepped in front of him, successfully cutting him off from the exit and making him stop abruptly in the middle of the dance floor. Desperation filled the man's beautiful blue eyes, and he was much more upset than Sasha expected. The disheveled look about him as he struggled to get the words out only made him more pitiful.\n\nHearing him out, Sasha's brow creased in both confusion and curiosity as the stranger continued to be shamelessly unaware of how conceited he was. Despite the loud music, he was able to hear the tone of his voice, the genuine shock. It would have been amusing if it wasn't so sad. \n\nSasha gasped as his shoulders were grasped, realizing just how big the man's hands were to be able to engulf so much of his arm in his grip. The seriousness of his expression told Sasha he might actually have a genuine question to help improve himself, so he was all ears when it finally left his lips. \n\nAnd then Sasha couldn't help but *Giggle.*\n\nIt was not the laughter of a man trying to be hurtful or mean. It was the laughter of a man in almost complete disbelief. This man, this stranger, either completely serious or an extremely good actor. \n\n\"Oh hun,\" He said, shaking his head in disbelief. \"You'd be a *Lot* Cuter if your attitude wasn't so ugly.\"" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "Adjacent to the lounge is the Cupid's Love Nectar Bar, a vibrant and lively establishment where gods and patrons indulge in ambrosial drinks infused with love-inducing ingredients. The bar is adorned with playful cherub decor, and skilled bartenders concoct elixirs that enhance the senses and foster connections between hearts." }, { "author": "Pothos", "message": "The bar was rather full and lively, the air filled with the sweet smell of ambrosia and alcohol. Pothos lounged casually at the end of the bar, his dark hair shining in the lighting of the bar, the exposed tattoos on his skin also taking on an almost otherworldly glow. With each sip of his drink, a deep crimson liquid that sparkled under the dim lights, he seemed to blend effortlessly into the lively atmosphere around him.\n\nEven before he saw them, Pothos could feel their presence. The intense longing, desire, and yearning emanated from them like a tidal wave, crashing against the shores of his mind. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to fully absorb their emotions, their deepest desires and passions. As he opened his eyes, he was met with a sea of faces. Lonely hearts and broken souls gazed back at him, their bodies pulsing with raw, unbridled lust. They flocked to him like moths drawn to a flame, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his aura.\n\nPothos was used to it. He was the god of love, longing, desire and passion. It was his purpose, his curse, to feel the wants and needs of others. And they always seemed to seek him out, especially in places like this, where the alcohol flowed freely and people were looking for something, someone, to fill the void inside them. He watched as they flirted, laughed, and touched each other. It was all a dance, a game of desire and conquest. And Pothos was the silent observer, the one who knew their deepest desires and could see through their façade. \n\nHe took another sip of his drink and felt a pang of loneliness. He was surrounded by people, yet he always seemed to be alone. Surely it was too much to ask for someone to truly understand a god's heart, right? Pothos thought back to a time long ago.\n\nOnce he had been hopeful, almost naive. But then he had been given his purpose, his power. He was to be the one who felt what others could not, who could quench their thirst for love and desire. And with that power came a heavy burden, for he could never have what he craved the most – true love.\n\nDespite his best efforts, Pothos could not escape his innate desire to love and be loved. Countless times he had fallen for both mortals and gods, hoping that maybe this time it would be different. Yet each time, he was left with a familiar ache in his chest. They always wanted something from him - whether it be his divine touch, his undivided attention, or his powerful magic. In their pursuit of pleasure, they would use him until they had satisfied their desires, leaving him discarded and alone once again\n\nHe looked around the bar, his eyes scanning the crowd, searching, looking for that one face. The one body. The one soul that could ease his own pain. The one person who seemed to truly want him for who he was- himself. And a smile tugged at the corners of his lips when his eyes fell on him from across the noisy and crowded club- Hyacinthus. \n\n||" }, { "author": "@ Hyacinthus", "message": "As the clock struck midnight in Olympian, there was a spell of allure and mystery that spread over the city, enrapturing its citizens in a zest for adventure that spread like wildfire. Of those eager to venture into the night to see where it took them was Hyacinthus, dressed in a midnight-purple sequin shirt and pants that shimmered under the lights of its most glamorous and prestigious bar. Adorned with golden accents and sleek geometric patterns inside, its interior glowed softly in the night, wrapping the young god in an opulent ambience and tempting him to head deeper into its bowels, seeking pleasure in hedonism, and hopefully some company.\n\nThe ceiling above was a vast expanse of glass metal and reflected the dazzling lights which cascaded down from fixtures like luminous stars. Velvet drapes in deep crimson framed the tall windows, while plush leather booths and dark wood tables created an unmistakably luxurious atmosphere. The patrons themselves were a glamorous crowd and their laughter and conversations said as much too. \n\nWaitstaff glided through the room carrying sparkling trays of sparkling champagne and an array of fancy cocktails, their uniforms as smart and impeccable as their manners. Hyacinthus moved to the bar, his violet eyes scanning the room with a curious, yet discerning gaze. Seated at the far end was a familiar face - Pothos.\n\nThe instant their eyes met, a spark of recognition and intrigue flashed between them. Pothos, as always, was a vision of pure masculine desire, with short-cropped hair and eyes that held the depths of at least a thousand unspoken desires. His shirt clung to his muscular form sensuously, while the low collar drew the eye to tasteful cleavage, which exposed his muscle-bound chest. Pothos was no stranger to bearing skin, and his new companion for the night was hardly prone to complain about it; he was, above all else, an absolute vision of a man - or god - and certainly knew how to showcase it.\n\nHyacinthus smiled sweetly, then made his way through the sea of people between them, weaving in and out effortlessly thanks to his discreet stature. Greeting him, his voice was smooth and warm - an ode to the admiration he earned from so many. \n\n**\"Hello you. I wondered if the night was going to reveal any surprises to me.\"** The young god smiled, sitting down on the seat beside him. **\"But it isn't like you to be here all alone. I suppose Alastor and Pan are busy, so unfortunately you might just have to settle for me.\"**" }, { "author": "Pothos", "message": "A mischievous grin spread across Pothos' face as his eyes met the captivating gaze of those vibrant violet orbs across the bar. His attention remained fixated on the petite figure, watching as it weaved gracefully through the bodies pressed in around the bar. After what seemed like an eternity, Hyacinthus finally made his way to Pothos' side. The Love God had already downed the rest of his drink in one swift motion and nodded to the bartender for a refill - with an added extra for his new companion. A small smile played on Pothos' lips as he shook his head in amusement at Hyacinthus' comment. \n\nThe atmosphere was electric, filled with the pungent scent of alcohol, ambrosia, and thick desire, as patrons danced and revelled in the pulsing beat of the music that filled the crowded bar. Bodies swayed and brushed against each other in a sensual dance, while voices raised and laughter erupted from every corner of the room. Despite the noise, Pothos felt at ease, taking in all the sights and sounds with a contented sigh. He knew that this was the perfect spot for him and Hya to meet up after so much time apart - a place where they could let loose and forget about their troubles, if only for a few hours. And as he raised his glass to toast his dear friend, he couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment of pure joy amidst all the chaos in their lives.\n\n\"Dear Hya... When have I ever settled for anything?\" He said with a playful wink as he motioned to the seat beside him that was somehow still available. \"Pan and Alastor are off having a little rendezvous wherever...\" He gave a small shrug before continuing. \"A free night is never a bad thing... And who could resist the company of someone sweet and bite-sized like yourself?\" He added with a charming grin. The bright lights of the club danced across his features, enhancing his allure, his voice was smooth and velvety, laced with just a hint of mischief and that usual edge of desire.\n\n\"Come Hya, tell me what you have been up to since our last little adventure... I feel it has been forever since we have talked let alone had an evening together.\" He glanced around at the faces, the couples, the hopeful and deprecate singles, all the emotions and desires filling the space. Pothos took in the sights and sounds of the club, the way the patrons moved and mingled and melded themselves together without a care in the world. It made him envious, if he were being honest. He longed to feel that free, to be that connected, that content... To just let go and enjoy himself without worrying about the consequences or ramifications of his actions. \n\nPothos was snapped out of his reverie by the tinkling sound of glasses being set before him. He smiled appreciatively at the bartender and took one of the drinks, swirling it around in his hand to release its rich aroma. Turning to Hya with a mischievous glint in his eye, he held out the other glass to him. \"A toast to a night of revelry,\" He declared, raising his glass in salute to the other god. The liquid inside sparkled like golden stars, promising a night full of merriment and indulgence and desire.\n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "A mesmerizing cabaret known as the Whispers of Desire is a popular venue within Eros Enclave, featuring seductive performances, captivating storytelling, and divine entertainment. Skilled performers weave tales of love and desire, enchanting the audience and encouraging a celebration of passion in all its forms." }, { "author": "Kakia", "message": "—————————\n**Title:** A Street-Cabaret named Desire\n**Tag:** \n**Song:**\n\n—————————\n\n*Half-ten and the sultry merlot hues haloing the central stage of the Cabaret began to dim. It was a precursor to the show's imminent beginning, a fifteen minute warning, beckoning tonight's revellers to find their seats swiftly before the Master of Ceremonies made his address. Dual-wielding two alcoholic beverages like weapons of war, Kakia managed to skillfully manoeuvre over to her table without spilling a single precious drop. One wouldn't be chastised for presuming the Goddess of Sin was being thoughtful, ordering a drink for her inbound companion, but the truth was far less genial.*\n\n*In the air tonight, hung the intoxicating aroma of warm spice, rose, juniper tar and opoponax; a familiar scent that would cling to the patrons' skin for days to come. It didn't bother the Goddess though, for any excuse not to shower, was good enough for her. Making herself comfortable, the woman leaned over and spent twenty seconds attempting to lazily direct the two straws simultaneously into her mouth with the tip of her tongue alone. The display was wholly reminiscent of a young child disobediently playing with her food at the dinner table, though no parent was around to force the uncouth behaviour to cease. Oddly enough though, that was an apt summary of Kakia's immortal life; unrestrained and unguided. She'd been forced to make her way alone in this world ever since Styx had cast her out of the underworld as a newborn. Not that such trauma had left its mark on the embodiment of wickedness.*\n\n-\n\n*Glancing up, Kakia's onyx orbs pandered out across the sea of couples that were embracing each other tenderly in the low-light. She did not feel jealousy or yearning in the normal sense, though her very presence would certainly be resulting in any number of adulterous relations tonight. Maybe even a fight or two. A malevolent smile flickered in anticipation upon the woman's features as she returned her attention back toward the stage. It was only then that she realised Pothos was taking his sweet time in arriving this evening, for normally, tardiness was a cornerstone of Kakia's personality. Her thick brows furrowed, as the Goddess wondered whether or not she should start feigning concern now or after the show finished.*\n\n*Pulling out her mobile, Sin-personified checked to see if she'd received any texts from the God. Of the 999+ messages that remained unread, Pothos had not yet contributed to the backlog. Pressing her lips together, Kakia didn't bother mulling on the possibilities much longer, quickly slipping the phone back into her bag. Folding one leg over the other, the Goddess finished one of her drinks with a few loud, indignant slurps, before discarding the empty tumbler to the side.*" }, { "author": "Pothos", "message": "The night was full of passion, desire, longing, and thrilled heartbeats- a feeling all too familiar to Pothos as he stepped out of his flat and into the streets. He smiled to himself, loving the feeling of being able to witness and inspire such powerful emotions in those, knowing that there was bound to be fun time ahead that evening. As he approached the venue that was is final destination, Pothos could already hear the thumping bass and the excited chatter of the crowd inside. He couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation growing within him, eager to see what the night had in store for him.\n\nHe checked his reflection in a nearby shop window, making sure his outfit was still looking as provocative as ever. His golden skin was adorned with silver bands and shining stones and his black hair was styled into its usual look. He wore a sheer top that left little to the imagination, paired with tight leather pants that hugged his curves perfectly, both showing off his array of tattoos that were almost as recognizable and infamous as the god himself. He completed the look with a pair of small platform shoes, adding an extra few inches to his already impressive height.\n\nIt was just outside the venue that Pothos noticed a group of people sitting at a nearby table outside, their faces filled with awe and wonder as they watched him approach. He couldn't resist the opportunity to entertain, so he sauntered over to their table, a sly smile on his lips. \"Hello there,\" He purred, his voice smooth and seductive. \"Is there something I can do for you?\" The group of friends looked at each other in disbelief, unable to believe that Pothos, the god of love and desire, was standing before them. One of them, a young woman with bright blue eyes, finally managed to find her voice.\n\n\"Can we take a picture with you?\" She asked, her voice trembling with excitement. \n\nPothos chuckled and nodded his head, taking his place beside them as they snapped a photo. He made sure to strike a pose, showing off his toned body and alluring tattoos. \"I must say, you all look quite lovely tonight,\" He said with a wink, before continuing on his way and dispersing through the doors, losing himself in the ambient atmosphere.\n\nThe air was thick with the scent of sweet ambrosia and bitter alcohol, but to him, it was a familiar and comforting smell. He weaved his way through the pulsing bodies on the dance floor, his hips moving in time with the music. People turned to watch him as he passed, their gazes full of desire and longing, even if they did not fully understand why. Pothos reveled in the attention, but even this was more than usual and he couldn't help but let out a low chuckle as he made his way further in, eyes searching the tables for his 'date' for the night.\n\nHe made his way to the bar, ordering two of his usual drink of choice – a cocktail made with ambrosia and whiskey. With drinks in hand and eyes finally falling on the table where the Lady of Sin herself sat, Pothos made his way over. This was his favorite part of the night – the calm before the storm. He knew that soon enough, he would be swept up in the chaos and excitement of the club, but for now, he could enjoy this moment as it was. \"Good evening Kakia, I apologize for keeping you waiting\" He purred as he took the empty seat across from her with a devilish smile, setting his own drinks on the table.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Kakia", "message": "———————————\n**Tag:** \n———————————\n\n*Black eyes glared up at Pothos from beneath a pair of thick brows as Kakia slurped down the last dribble of liquor that remained in the bottom of her glass. His edgy, new-aged style left very little to the imagination, though how could one expect anything less from the embodiment of desire itself. Sin-personified did not acknowledge the earnest apology offered to her, at first. Instead, her head tilted to the side, as her gaze locked onto a swathe of mortal fans that had stalked the handsome God into the building. The collective gawked unashamedly, barely managing to keep a respectable distance away from the couple's table, which only gave the Goddess an idea that was devious as it was cruel.*\n\n**\"You are most certainly not forgiven,\"** *Kakia jested half-heartedly, clicking her fingers in the arrogant way she liked doing to get the attention of the bartenders,* **\"I'll take four more. On him.\"**\n\n-\n*The attendant appeared momentarily confused by the command, but did not dare question the woman and hurried away without asking for any actual payment method. With more drinks on order, Kakia turned her attention back to her date for the evening. It had been quite some time since the two had managed to coordinate a meet-up, and it wasn't necessarily the war's fault entirely. Sin-personified was as fickle as she was lazy, and her flakiness and track record of just not showing up, was legendary. Tonight though, Kakia was in desperate need of a break from the moral humdrum that seemed to force a stick up most of the other God's assholes. In the background, the Master of Ceremonies finally introduced tonight's production, and a slew of erotic dancers suddenly appeared centre stage amidst a plume of smoke.*\n\n** \"I've been meaning to catch up with you for a little while now, Pothos,\"** *She began, leaning back into the confines of her seat, dark orbs cutting back to the handsome man from the whatever callisthenic routine the cabaret were now performing.* ** \"But, you know how busy our endless lives can get when either Zeus or Poseidon chuck a casual mid-millennia tantrum.\"**\n\n-\n*Perhaps Pothos would spot it; the look of knowing that briefly appeared upon the woman's features. A sort of prideful smugness that disappeared as quickly as it formed. It was then the bartender returned with Kakia's four beverages, awkwardly attempting to set the tray down on the couple's table so they could unload the drinks in an orderly fashion. Though patience wasn't exactly the Goddess of Vice's virtue. Immediately, she reached out and began pulling the glasses off the well-balanced tray, nearly causing the attendant to lose their centre of gravity and spill the remainder of her order. Thankfully, the mortal's flexibility meant they adapted quick-smart, though their flustered, scornful glare practically bore holes in Kakia's skull. Though naturally, the immortal paid zero attention, and flicked her hand to dismiss the bartender as if they were now nothing more than an inconvenience.*\n\n** \"So tell me, what's been keeping the God of Longing and Desire busy these days? I notice you're as popular as ever with the humans.\"**\n\n*Kakia tilted her chin up in the direction of Pothos' little harem that had gathered behind one of the columns of the Cabaret club, acting as if they'd found the most perfect hiding spot in all of Olympian. All the woman could do was scoff at their pathetic disposition, though she couldn't say such obsessive behaviour surprised her.*\n\n** \"I give them ten minutes until they finally slap up enough courage to come ask for a photo with you.\"**\n\n*Then, without any warning, Kakia laughed in the most haughty fashion she could muster, flicking her long black tresses off her shoulder in a very obvious and heady display. It would be clear to the God sitting across from her that she was putting on her own little show right now. Though her goal was anything but entertainment.*" } ]

[ { "author": "susanstorms", "message": "The violent and unconsolable creature known as Geraldine has broken into the Pleasure Emporium, and Hedone seeks out her mother, Psyche, for assisting in removing the threat before it is too late." }, { "author": "HEDONE.", "message": "There are costs to every action, remnants of treachery that afflict others in the wake of their ghastly deeds. The woman known as Geraldine had become a thorn in the side of residents living in Olympian as of late, a flailing blonde weasel who seemingly appeared everywhere at once but always when you least expected it. It was clear she shared a hatred for gods alike, a possible repercussion for an event that shaped her within her own origins that were not clear. Hedone had encountered Geraldine only once when she bulldozed through her emporium like a wild boar, smashing vases and screaming obscenities at her maidens because 'happy endings' were not a procedure that was offered. Geraldine had attempted to shatter the aura of elegance surrounding Hedone and her desire to illicit pleasure to those who willed and accepted it, and luckily, she had failed. The pieces of vase were swept away, her maidens were given a wealthy bonus for having to endure such a violent client and their operation returned to normal. That was until Geraldine returned.\n\nIn the early morning hours of what was expected to be a beautiful day, Geraldine broke into the emporium where her maidens were preparing for their sessions, startling them with wicked language and a bedazzled pink knife that she said had killed 'many' gods in its time. Her maidens fled to Hedone's condo where they informed her of what had taken placed and she knew there was only one person capable of dismantling Geraldine before she wreaked havoc on a avenue that was dear to her; her mother. Hedone hurried to her mother's abode, barging through the doorway in a golden sheer dress with a frazzled look etched on her face. **\"Mother, we must make haste. Geraldine broke into the emporium and threatened my maidens. They say she is still inside!\"** Hedone spun on her heel and made her way back to the emporium with her mother in tow, ready to confront Geraldine once and for all.\n\nThe Pleasure Emporium was in a state of distress as they arrived, fragments of glass and debris littered the front entryway and the sound of rustling and banging permeated the morning air. Hedone could hear that Geraldine was still inside, if not for the shroud of catastrophic perfume that created a choking hazard inside. Violence was not an action that Hedone typically employed, but she was confident in her own stature to defend herself and what is treasured by her. If that meant that Hedone's hands would be tainted by dirt and blood, that would only be a consequence of safeguarding her future and her desires.\n\n**\"By the gods, do you smell that? If we were not sure it was her, we certainly do now. What should we do, mother? I have a shovel that I keep under the front desk if case of emergencies but I do not believe it would leave even a dent in that hulk of a woman.\"**" }, { "author": ".* Psyche", "message": "As ridiculous as it sounded, mortals had always been prone to madness - perhaps even more so than the gods themselves. In recent weeks, the enigma that was Geraldine had emerged as an unsuspecting human woman whose propensity for disruptive behaviour, while earning her ill repute, was otherwise irrelevant. But in time since, her vendetta against the Elysium Retreat staff had become a growing problem that derailed the unprecedented problem of genuine mortal sabotage. \n\nWhen Hedone broke the news, Psyche had been on the precipice of a breakthrough with the woman, whose enrolment in the new anti-violence programme at the Elysium Retreat had so far been a success even if problematic. Geraldine's behaviour aside, the other women had taken to the goddess' advice and assimilated well to the challenges that the therapy provided; while certainly experimental, it was also officially accredited as a legitimate avenue of rehabilitation and mitigation. Despite that, the mortal woman had caused enough waves, and so if they were to *Truly* Withstand what was coming in the tedious war of brothers, it was imperative that the latest distraction was addressed. And quickly.\n\nWhen her mother arrived at the emporium, Hedone's chagrin was already well and truly palpable. Inside, Geraldine had left a trail of destruction of property in her wake - at least thousands of dollars worth of it. Expensive and rare pieces of antique crockery, as well as artwork had been damaged if not completely destroyed, and upholstered furniture crafted by expert hands was vandalised, left in a state of disuse and non-repair. Psyche, for all her patience, pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a little sigh as she surveyed the scene of chaos like a crime scene, then turned to her daughter with a look of calm. It would be remedied, but their first priority was to secure the emporium and clean up. \n\n**\"Incredulous,\"** The blonde said quietly as she waved a hand at what appeared to be a destroyed vase, its fragments scattered haphazardly across the tiled floor. **\"I always thought she was harmless. She's made so much progress at the spa, so admittedly I thought silliness like this was simply unthinkable.\"** The hundreds of shards suddenly floated into the air with a warble sound that gave way to an ethereal shriek as the goddess used her power over material matter to fuse them back together. **\"Keep your calm, sweetheart. We'll clean up here and be sure to locate her. When we do, the first order of business will be to review the finer details of her therapy commitments, and hopefully alleviate some of her more... Destructive habits altogether.\"**\n\nVases, bowls, sculptures, and torn canvases suddenly lifted from the cold tiles and levitated quietly back to where they had been ripped and thrown from. Debris, fragments, and pieces of china and porcelain danced in mid-air all around them like fireflies in twilight, glimmering as they reflected the light of the golden chandeliers that cascaded down from high ceilings like supernovas. Once an environment of hedonism and pleasure, her daughter's abode had been transformed into a church of dread, leaving staff and clientele without answers as to what had gone so horribly wrong. \n\n**\"She's only human,\"** Psyche reminded her child as she gave her a warm smile, placing a gentle kiss against the top of her head. **\"The** ***Real*** **Concern I have goes far beyond this. The war is getting worse, and the gods stir in anticipation of more retaliation from all sides. Your father does his best, of course,\"** She sighed. **\"But we may not be safe for much longer.\"**\n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": "lord_satan_", "message": "Location: INSOMNIA, is a small shop run by Hypnos. A place for demigods and creatures fighting can take a break during the wars.\n\nThe shop is open with The god of slumber inside, having awakened from a century long slumber. The slumber god is unaware of a very welcomed visitor coming to his shop." }, { "author": "HYPNOS. | God of Sleep", "message": "Hypnos shop was many things, a small library, a coffee shop, a safe place for any creatures during this cursed war. The place was made just for him, the short slumbering God door was open even during the zombie break. Inviting anyone in his safe zone from the creatures, killing any zombies that enter his door chasing a refugee.\n\nNow it was peaceful, the tall building had many floors, the main being the coffee shop, the second the Library for study and reading. The other floors above that were for emergencies like this, rooms for any refugees to sleep in to wait out the danger. \n\nHypnos sat behind the counter, a few people sitting in chairs or booths, eating his meal or drinking his coffee. Hypnos' eyes closed as he laid his head on his arm as he sat in his seat. Letting out a soft yawn, he waited for anything or someone to step up to him for anything they wanted of him. \n\nThe god had no desire for war, and was slightly annoyed by the... Zombie situation, but he knew Persephone would fix it soon. Speak up to Hades and tell him to not punish these poor mortals of the sins of mortals already in his realm. Hypnos had been tempted to tell the god himself that the ones he should be angry at are at his reach, no longer in the world of the living. \n\nHypnos sighs and grumbles as his sleep is being bothered by such negative thoughts, he just wanted to relax and actually sleep. His white hair fluffy, and with a pastel blue coat that runs down to his knees and white jeans. He had his apron.\n\n⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻\n**TAGS** :\n*Note:* Sorry it's not good" }, { "author": "Thantos| God of Death", "message": "In the heart of the bustling city, nestled away from the chaos of the streets, lay a cozy little shop. This was the sanctuary of Hypnos, the gentle dream-weaver, twin brother to Thanatos. Here, tired souls sought solace from the noisy world outside.\n\nAs the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the city in golden hues, a troubled figure approached, his attention absorbed by an iPad in hand. Yet even the weather heralded him in ways no mortal could. It began as thunder, a rumbling underbelly that filled the dark clouds overhead with foreboding.\n\n \"This feels like chaos,\" He muttered to himself, frustration evident as he surveyed the disarrayed list before him. The roster of souls awaiting rest was nearly depleted... Empty. How could Hades allow this? Around him, shambling bodies wilted under his stern gaze as he reaffirmed his dominion over death. \"Your time is up,\" He declared firmly.Where his gaze struck they broke apart, releasing the souls tethered to bodies.\n\nThanatos entered the shop quietly, without grandeur or display of power, for he had no need. Between the weather and his very presence there could be no confusing the god of death. Letting himself in he took in the sight of the cozy little shop. Leave it to Hypnos to make a space that felt so relaxing. \n\n Instantly, his troubles melted away, his gaze softened, and his clenched jaw relaxed as he powered down the iPad. A small, tentative smile tugged at the corners of his lips. \"Hypnos,\" He greeted softly, mindful not to disturb his brother's slumber. \"I see even Hades' antics affect you.\" Seating himself opposite his twin, he regarded him with gentle eyes.\n\n⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻\nTAGS:" }, { "author": "HYPNOS. | God of Sleep", "message": "The shop was quiet, people weren't really close to where Hypnos was, the counter was clean and ready for people to come, food lined the place for people to order. Hypnos was resting, hearing the soft chime above the door ring, alerting the sleeping god of someone entering his shop. He didn't perk his head up as he rested, he let out a soft grumble. \n\n*\"Hypnos, I see even Hades' antics affect you.\"*\n\nA voice that felt like forever ago he last heard, it was, forever ago. His eyes slowly opened as he felt confused, unsure. Was it a dream again, was Morpheus playing tricks. He slowly lifted his head and looked to where his brother was who stared at him with a gentle look. Hypnos' heart shattered at the sight of his twin. \n\nWhere Thanatos eyes always softened to the sleeping god, Hypnos had no fears to smile in return. To freely smile at death, and greet him with open arms. Unlike many who fear him, even in peaceful moments. \"It's hard to get good sleep when people outside keep saying gahhh a lot and slapping my windows\" He says gently, letting out a soft yawn that any mortal around him would yawn alongside him. His aura still carries the weight of slumber to it, making others tired but his twin never felt those effects.\n\n_ _ \n\"How have you been, brother, have you been well?\" There was a tone of affection in his voice, wanting to make sure his brother's heart hadn't been harmed by mortals cursing him. He leaned forward over the table, reached out towards him, touching his face to make sure it was him as he asked his questions. \"Have you made time to sleep, rest? Nap at least.\" \n\n\"Lord Hades is going to make me work hard when his temper tantrum is over, though I understand why, if I heard correct Lady Persephone was harmed\" He says gently, still poking and probing his twins face stretching his face grumbling softly less checking if it was his twin and now messing with him as he kept going. He was gonna be busy after the day passes, or when this apocalypse ends, his brother will have spirits to take from this. No it would be another god, \n\n\"When did you get ugly, Thanatos\" He teased his twin, the two of them looking nothing alike, where his twin was tall and strong Hypno was small. He stared at his twin, there held so much affection and love for his twin. So much, he missed being with his brother, he missed him, with how much time has passed in his slumber. He hasn't gotten to see many of his family members." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "Cerberus Cabaret is a hotspot for nightlife in Hades' Abyss. This venue offers a unique experience where performers and patrons revel in the music, dance, and entertainment. The three-headed hound, Cerberus, serves as the symbol of the cabaret, welcoming visitors to a realm where pleasure and mystery collide." }, { "author": "- Niklas.", "message": "``Down an unlit alleyway near Cerberus Cabaret. 01:23 AM.``\n⠀\nHe took cover in the murky rivers of the city with the idiosyncrasy of a crocodile. Submerged in criminality, but with watchful eyes that held themselves above water. He was dressed in the bony scales of similarity, enough to blend in— but if one looked for too long, a gaze would be returned. The man was between delinquency and nobility. He lingered on the outskirts of immorality, and reclaimed his greying uprightness with small acts. Most men hoped that their good deeds would earn them their seat in heaven. Niklas was not concerned with the promised land.\n⠀\nThe heat of the evening had abandoned them, and with the greetings of the moon, the air was cool and prickly. A jacket as dark as the night veiled most of his physique, and by the position that he stood, he was no different than a dreamt–up shadow. His hair gleamed in the scarce moonlight, slick with gel, and a single strand fell at his temple. It was the only detail that made him appear human; he carried more similarities to an apparition, an omen that concealed itself in one's peripheral. Niklas was less of an omen tonight and more of a spectator— his observations would not sway the outcome of the fights. He was the champion of Nemesis, his mentor of the demands of justice, but he would not misuse her powers lightly. On his mind, there were greater things. A brawl in the city was as common as the promise of the rising sun.\n⠀\n\nWhen men fought, he gathered that they were as bestial as dogs. No, Niklas believed that the acts of men were far more depraved. Canines fought with instinct, for survival, and men fought in these man–made rings for pleasure. For cash, the assurance of adrenaline, the thrill of spilt blood. It was more primal than the habits of a four–legged beast. The night–crawlers of the city had come out, and he stood among them. Vocal men stood in front of him, as if their shouting could derail the fight's result. He would not participate— his days of recreational scrimmaging were left in his earlier years— unless it was provoked, and then it was no longer for leisure.\n⠀\n\"One of you fuckers, end it!\"\n⠀\nIt came from a man to the left of him, who stood like a drunkard and reeked of liquor. Niklas eyed the center of the imperfect circle, and without knowing, he kept his gaze on one fighter more than the other. He appeared younger than Niklas, but youth did not lack strength. There was a chill to his eyes that did not originate from the cold, and Niklas often found the same frigidity in his own.\n⠀\nThere was blood marking the pavement with each swing. Among movement and hollering, Niklas was still, with arms crossed and lips pressed together. He could not assess the victor of the fight, but he often placed personal assumptions to himself. Niklas would not confess to who he favored.\n⠀\n\nHe was, abruptly, shoved carelessly as the drunkard jumped with no restrain, eager to engross himself in the fight or end it unfairly. He disliked both recklessness and swindlers— his eyes, heavy with fatigue, did not contribute to the slim chances of his forgiveness. Irritated, Niklas undid his arms and took the stranger by the wrist. He squeezed until the man winced and had to turn to Niklas. His superior strength forced the man back, away from the fighters and to the outskirts.\n⠀\n\"Do not play dirty in a fight that isn't yours. Not unless you want to be the next man tasting blood.\"\n⠀\nHe took his hand from the man's wrist with a clenched jaw, eyes returning to the young fighter— he swore that their gazes met, if only for a fleeting moment." }, { "author": "Arsenio Vairnon", "message": "Arsenio knew what pain felt like, and at this point, he relished in it. \nThe dark shadows were cast over his face, under his eyes, making him look more like a hungry animal. A busted line of red crest over the bridge of his nose and over his eyebrow. He'd been hit a few times, but this wasn't his first round of fights. He'd bested two out of three, and it was safe to say that by the middle of the third, he was finding some exhaustion. \n\nArsenio was playing it safe. The new contender had much more energy than him, so he'd slow him down. A fire still burned, low and slow in his eyes. \nSweat glistened off his shoulders, dripping from the ends of his hair that hung in his face and drenched his blood stained top. \nHis knuckles burned, wrists screaming out for some kind of relief, but Arsenio was admittedly bullheaded. \nHe'd walked into a new city, a place full of those stronger than him, and he needed to know where he stood.\nSo far, so good.\n\nFeeling eyes on his back, he lead his opponent to dance through the circle. His gaze flicked up, and found a man who hadn't been a part of the night before that moment. He was steady, but equally out of reach. Like a shadow, summoned from the chaos of violence. \n\nTheir eyes met. \n\nSomething like thunder jolted down his ribs, and at first he thought he'd been hit. Until he realized he was the one extending, his gaze in slow motion moved to look at what he'd done. He'd hears nothing and no one passed the thrumming of his own heartbeat in his ear, collided his fist into his opponents mouth. \nHis head twisted at a cruel angle, and the man's body crumpled like a bag of rocks being dropped down to the cement. \n\nArsenio was hunched over, a caged animal, stalking the prey he'd captured. He spit out blood to the black landscape: an offering for his new title, the price he knew he'd have to pay forever. He'd won, but it didn't come with the ego some might think. He'd only beat himself, and what he thought he could do.\n\nArsenio knew when he co\n\nUldn't push himself any more. He gave one last look to the figure of the man that he'd locked eyes with. It was exploratory, flaying open his curiosity like flesh of a fish. \nThen Arsenio pushed through the ring of delinquents, out of the alley to the street, where he could catch his breath. \nHis tired body leaned against the brick building, yet the air he sucked in was rich with the tang of iron." }, { "author": "- Niklas.", "message": "There were many fights that concluded with little warning— a climax was not always necessary, for adrenaline was sporadic and haphazard. The victor was found, shrouded in sweat like an animal. Ruptures of vigor had been stifled, and Niklas was certain that the cement was jarring to tender flesh. Men that took pleasure in pain rejoiced in the fight's end, and Niklas persisted quietly. His eyes took a trail along the champion's back, and the way that the redness of blood met skin. It was pale and radiant by the glow of the moon, and he appeared like a beast.\n⠀\nAll shared their remarks, except for the two of them. Niklas began to crave a cigarette, and the brawl's victor did not boast, nor did he smile in delight. It was infectious, for a man to wear his winnings on his sleeve like a delicate heart. The city's dwellers lacked tact or humility. Niklas took note of it, but did not dwell further. For a second time, their eyes reconnected, and his brow furrowed.\n⠀\nHad he been so noticeable here, dressed in shadows like they were above the comforts of skin? As if he was unsure, Niklas looked from the stranger to those that bordered him. He felt so unlike them, but in appearance alone, he was no different. Niklas would not be the first soundless observer, who articulated his judgment in thought above words. He was swathed in camouflage until he was seen— then, he was a sore thumb, a challenge to ignore.\n⠀\n\nThe boozer that Niklas had previously dealt with shoved through the sea of men, and to the center; his short legs stumbled in the process, and Niklas grunted with dissatisfaction. The winner from before was gone, and now, a second competitor must fill the spot. With nothing worth seeing, the man was reminded of his lethargy.\n⠀\nThe nights were long. Niklas was accustomed to the sight of the moon, the habit of making out bodies in the dark— but he was not entirely adjusted to a newfound purpose, the nearness of his retribution. To fulfill his revenge had always been so distant to fruition, a faint aftertaste that was bitter and empty. Now, in Olympian, he saw in unclouded lenses. The taste was so pungent that he could wretch to think of it for too long. His father, his brother. His *Mother* — the sorceress, who he heard in whispers and saw in his dreams. There was no way to flee. Germany was far, now.\n⠀\nNiklas took gracious steps from the alleyway, placing the men behind him. The alleyway was stifled in more heat than he knew, and the wind was charitable to him on the occupied streets, brushing intimately through his hair. Shops that basked in the sunlight closed, and those that catered to the ones that could not sleep were opened. He went to his pocket, taking a well–worn box of cigarettes from its hiding place, and saw the brute of a man. Propped against brick, eager for air. Niklas thought he looked more like a boy— covered in blood, hot to the touch. The stranger's muscles were prominent outlines, and he reeked of exhaustion.\n⠀\nNiklas did not address those he did not know often. It was done on a whim, or when it felt necessary. His eyes were black disks in the dark, and Niklas was plopping a cigarette between his lips. Beams of streetlight made his hair appear warm.\n⠀\n\"Here.\"\n⠀\nHe spoke, extending the packet to the brawler. There was only one left. Niklas hoped that this small act would amount to something— whatever that meant, he did not know." }, { "author": "Arsenio Vairnon", "message": "Exhaustion made his limbs feel like lead. His eyes were closed as he took note of his heart still beating in his chest, his consciousness still apparent. His face was already beginning to heal, and his hands and wrists had ceaesed their throbbing. \nArsenio heard the soft scrape of a step taken nearby, and he jolted out of his resting position, adrenaline once more coursing his veins, until he realized it was that man. \n\nUp close, he looked much older than he'd seen earlier. Much was a blur just a moment ago, but the lamp nearby illuminated him in something like a revelation. \n\nHe was handsome.\n\nArsenio wasn't one to fall so easy, but he couldn't deny what was objective fact. \nThe man was blonde, and taller by a few inches. Beneath his coat, the younger demigod could tell that he was well built just in the way he carried himself. A seasoned warrior.\n\nArsenio glanced down to the offered pack, taking it and pulling the last one out. He gave a soft smirk and shook his head. \nLast one, huh? \nWhat was his reason for coming to find him? \nKinship? Did something unknown yet mirror itself between them? There were only so many reasons strangers crossed paths, and gave up their last cigarette. \n\n\nSetting the slim cylinder between his lips, Arsenio pulled a lighter from his pocket, flicking the flame to life. He angled the tip of his cigarette closer to the other man's. His free hand was cupped to shield the flame from going out while he lit both of their cigarettes. \nHe pulled in, and pushed smoke out of the side of his mouth, the cherry tip singing brightly in the dim cloak of night that blanketed them. \n\nSure that the stranger's cigarette was also lit, the demigod released his thumb from the lighter platform, extinguishing itself, and the pocketing it. \nHis fingers pinched the end, and he drew in another breath, and exhaling before finally speaking.\n\n**\"Name's Arsenio. Do I need to pay you back for this?\"** He brought his hand up to emphasize the small token of some peculiar\n\nSense of similarity. \n\n**\"Do you fight?\"** He watched the other from the side, rubbing his thumb along his forefinger idly and indulging in the toxic heat that filled his lungs." }, { "author": "- Niklas.", "message": "He was met with a smirk. Strange, was it not? Niklas eyed it, the rebellion that it had been sewn with, and then looked to the man's eyes. The lacerations that littered the sculpture of his face were improving. Less in severity, but the blood dried darker, like cuts of rust. It was the only proof that Niklas needed, to know that he was a demigod.\n⠀\nIt should not have been so strange here, yet it was. His gaze did not express a shift in emotion, but it came to roaring life behind his eyes. How had life been for this man? Did he know the emptiness that Niklas knew, like a vacant cage in his chest? The hatchling in his heart sprang from its nest long ago, and did not flit for long before it fell to the earth. If the two of them were here, beneath the moon and the smell of iron, then they must have mutually known cruelty. No one of a pure heart came to observe men bearing their teeth— and none of gentle hands chose to fight up against them. Niklas had questions, yet he smothered them. He could have suffocated from all that he never said.\n⠀\n\nThe cigarette was taken— an offering, perhaps— and the box was crushed with his hand, placed back in his pocket for him to forget. Niklas was readying to take the lighter from his left pocket, yet the flickering of a flame stopped him. The man was closer, now, and he could see the notable improvement of his wounds. Niklas had seen it on his own flesh for all of his weary years, but it looked new on foreign flesh. He was younger than Niklas, in the prime of his faultless years. The light was sultry and bright, and went out with the catching of their cigarettes.\n⠀\nHe had been smoking since boyhood, and found more comfort in the act of it rather than the idle buzz. When his hands twitched for one, he felt slight awareness of his reliance to them. Niklas nodded in a subtle appreciation, taking the cigarette from his lips once he took a hefty drag. The man retreated to the wall, as well, only a few feet from the fellow demigod. Distance felt safer. It was closeness that brought discomfort, that allowed him to see details that he did not always wish to find.\n⠀\nThe cigarette was between the pads of his fingers, and Niklas turned his head when the man spoke. Arsenio. He would remember his name.\n⠀\n\"Niklas.\" He breathed outward, and a gust of smoke came from his maw, like a mighty dragon. \"No. I am trying to quit.\" It was a frank lie, and there was some bizarre humor in it. His lip twitched with the temptation of a smile. It would be his only explanation for being so generous with the last cigarette. He could not explain it otherwise.\n⠀\n\nIt was placed back in his mouth, hanging loosely from his lips. His tolerance for nicotine had become too elevated, and it hardly did much for the lulling of his mind. Niklas would stop on his way home and buy an excess of them. On nights when he could not sleep, he stood on the balcony until each of them were shriveled into trivial ashes.\n⠀\n\"No,\" Niklas debated on speaking more, sealing a momentary silence with a breath inward of his cigarette. Olympian's occasional inhabitant walked past them with little concern. \"I used to.\"\n⠀\n||" }, { "author": "Arsenio Vairnon", "message": "Niklas. \nThe name fit the face and the aura that cast a long, brooding shadow over him. Yet, the kind click of the 'k' inbetween gave it energy. A potential that Arsenio couldn't be able to place for lack of knowing anything about this man. Except for the fact that he was trying to quit smoking and used to fight.\n\nArsenio found himself looking at the cigarette, juat accepting whatever excuse it was that the other had felt compelled to talk to him for. Sometimes the soul spoke for itself. Divine intervention or that pull of the inner child - neglected and lost - finding comfort in another Lost Boy.\n\n**\"A couple things you're still holding onto..?\"** \n\nArsenio's gaze had been boring a hole somewhere on the sidewalk when he asked. He lifted his foot to place it against the wall, his leg hiked out, highlighting the rip in his jeans that exposed his knee.\nHis eyes moved to Niklas' face, studying the angles and planes that made up his features. \n\nThe question was admittedly vulnerable, but he'd just laid himself on the clothing line, at the whim of fate and the wind to come and take him out. Dying standards of masculinity by way of conscience were the last of his issues.\nFor now, his only concern was the way he so intimately paid attention to the other male. He mapped out his face, the bridge of his nose, the permanent crease inbetween his eyebrows and the sullen indent underneath his eyes.\nHe watched his cheek hallow out when he took a drag of the cigarette.\n\n**\"...Always told to hold back, slow down, don't over do it. Because you're ahead of everyone all the time? So you're held back, pissed off, sat down, and told repeatedly not to be so different.\"** \n\nArsenio paused, realizing that he was speaking with out being direct. His throat felt like flowers bloomed there and words passed through thorns; uncomfortable as he tried to reel it all back in. \n\n**\"You're like me huh? I've always wondered if they could sense it.\"** \n\nThe accusation would only give Niklas more of an\n\nOut for why he'd come to meet with Arsenio after witnessing him in the alley. Whether or not it was true, Arsenio wasn't going to get his hopes up." }, { "author": "- Niklas.", "message": "The question was asked, and the air felt cooler. It was obscure and perplexing, and it swaddled the space between them, remaining long after it was spoken. There was an exposure to the question that Niklas could not place— it disarmed him, as if it were inappropriate to be spewed by a stranger. The inflection of it, however, kept him standing where he was. It was spoken as if they knew one another. Olympian had not shown him much visibility, until now. When he looked to Arsenio, he noted that he had already been staring at him. In a neglected crevice of his mind, Niklas questioned if the young man was taking in his features, remembering them for later.\n⠀\nThe tale that Niklas wrote of his life was defined by what he could not release. His demons were to be avoided, yet they were his playthings, his companions settled on his shoulder. He trailed after the temptation of darkness with a focus that bordered on obsession. Niklas stuck to few things. It was why he was here, standing in a foreign city's stench, smoking with a city's foreign man.\n⠀\n\"A few.\"\n⠀\nThe man's eyes caught the sliver of flesh that was bare from the tear in Arsenio's jeans. It was as pale as the moon, and he looked away from it.\n⠀\n\nAlready was there ash accumulating on the cigarette's end, and he tapped it habitually. Niklas anticipated for their exchange to follow with a lengthier silence. He knew the language of men— the soundless understanding of one another, the prolonged pauses. They could look to one another in this way, in a way that beckoned for closeness, and they could proceed without a goodbye. It would be bittersweet. A moment of clarity, and then it would become nothing. He spoke again, he spoke more, and Niklas was puzzled.\n⠀\n\"I was never held back.\" He fluttered his lashes, compelled to drop the cigarette and crush it. He did not.\n⠀\nNiklas combated the accusation, but he spoke without defense. Admittedly, it came out with more pain than Niklas realized— there was a boy that lurked in the space between each word, begging to differ. Which was worse: to be tethered by the restraints of expectation, or to be granted freedom by abandonment? Niklas spent his boyhood with the posture of a dog, both neglected and treacherously free. His words would end with clamped jaws, and he frothed at the maw for conflict. He swung his fists and hit hard. In the face of his sorrow, however, his tail was tucked. Niklas had tied the ropes around his own wrists. He felt that he spoke too soon, but he did not retract his words.\n⠀\n\nHe had partially lied, and did not know it until it came piling out of his mouth.\n⠀\n``\"You're like me, huh?\"``\n⠀\nNiklas was holding the cigarette with more pressure than demanded, and he placed it in his mouth to avoid it. What did that mean, and what did the man see? No matter what it was about, Niklas had an inkling that he understood; it was a foreign tongue that he spoke easily, saturated in unwanted nostalgia. A secret that they confided with their pinky fingers knotted together. It was an anomaly, to be so comfortably recognized. He shifted his weight from one leg to another, and took a drag too long, inducing dizziness.\n⠀\n\"Mm. It depends on how good you are at hiding it.\" Niklas breathed out, his voice a feathery thing from the intake of nicotine. He looked him in the eye, as if he was questioning Arsenio's performance.\n\n\"Ignorance is bliss.\" His accent placed weight on the final, uttered word." }, { "author": "Arsenio Vairnon", "message": "Arsenio brought the butt of the cigarette to his lips, pulling the smoke inwards and becoming conscientious of the acrid taste of burning nicotine. It wasn't quite the same as inhaling charred, damp newspaper when it was wrapped around hot glass, but it was similar enough. \n\nNiklas' response to his first question was a secret, and an answer all at once. This stranger... Quiet and introspective; rugged, and placed so perfectly among the dark - Niklas was more like an eclipse than another beacon in the night. \n\nSomeone peeked out of the darkness around Niklas' iris' and Arsenio felt the door in his own chest come ajar. Understand was blooming like Midnight Phlox flowers in the cement they stood on, sweet and untouched, with their awkward, prong-like petals. \n\nArsenio's lips pulled up to the side, a cute side smile making him look so much younger. He had already determined that neither one of them were very good at hiding their motives. The night had this odd aspect to it, becoming a black mirror that reflected the soul, casting like on the other side of everyone's metaphorical moon.\n\n**\"Niklas..\"** \nArsenio said again. Just to say it. He never knew if he'd get another chance to meet him. He was interesting, but it was too on the nose ask for his number. He glanced at the cigarette and brought back up to his lips, almost kissing it like one does to a lucky object. The soft pop of the air displacing around it had the new smoke billowing from his mouth and into his nose and cycling back out. \nArsenio dropped his leg, folding an arm over his taut abdomen, and turning his face towards Niklas. He didn't look at him when he opened his mouth to speak... And words were buried underneath his tongue like a graveyard when he met his eyes again. \nIgnorance was bliss... And Arsenio pondered where he could find bliss this late. Maybe this little pocket was it. With this man he barely knew but saw.\n\nThe night time also had a way of bringing the spontaneous need to make mistakes. To find\n\nSomething to do. Arsenio could guess the answer, but he wanted to chase off the comfort of silence like people do when chasing off a flock of birds. \n\n**\"You ride motorcycles?\"** \n\nArsenio look between their cigarettes, knowing they were nothing but timer's, counting down they were already short. He assumed Niklas wasn't the type to finish his completely, something about completion felt off for him." }, { "author": "- Niklas.", "message": "He felt divorced from his own skin. His name, his title, uttered without skepticism. Niklas was driven by temptation, only for a moment; he looked at Arsenio as it was spoken. There was a dimple where his smile had been, announced with lips that were ripe and plush. The man feasted on the way that it was spoken, the way that his mouth conformed to the annunciation of each letter. He had mastered the brisk click in his name, something that many always failed to do. Niklas found it endearing. It was intimate, for there had been no demands to address him. He felt bare, more stripped and sultry than he would find himself on lonesome nights, and he huffed. Arsenio, surely, had been crafted with fire and ash. He was lit and vibrant, yet peppered with the German's desolation. A phase of the moon that Niklas had surpassed, ceasing to fully wane.\n⠀\nNiklas hoped that he would not.\n⠀\nHis name had placed a frenzy in his belly, warming the tips of his ears. Arsenio's mouth took to the shape of the cigarette, and Niklas observed the lofty heights of each bordering building. The alleyway was swathed in disruption, yet it was muffled in his state of comfort.\n⠀\n\nHe did not give it a response. The absence of dialogue was enticing him to take his leave, to sleep away their exchange as if it had been a reposeful revery. Niklas decided, then, to part with his cigarette first. It fell into a puddle, meddled with ash and rainwater. With assurance, it was obliterated by his heel, and the man looked to the other.\n⠀\nThe gel in his hair was subsiding by the fatiguing hour, cornering the frame of his face by the coaxing of the wind. Amused, a brow twitched upward. Arsenio spoke as if he were a boy, without that memorable hue of velvet in his shirt or the remnants of improved bruises. Those that attempted to talk of such trivial things were often shut down in their lack of honesty. There were exceptions— those that discreetly wrapped him in tethers, succumbing to the design of their hearts. For a man of stone, he was exceptionally sensitive, exceptionally sweet.\n⠀\n\"Are you saying that you do?\" Niklas shook his head, answering the question speedily. They were both facing one another, but Niklas had a posture that indicated preparation. He was away from the wall, standing a little taller. His shoulders were broad, and an attire of black did not fail to outline every curve, every crevice, every advantage. \"A biker and a fighter. Even for us, that is like asking for an early grave. Hm?\"\n⠀\n\nNiklas had taken a step as he said it. *Us*. A confession hurled so directly, yet with such ease that it was hard to hold in one's hands. He was nearing a smile, with lines of history etched into the spot of his temples. It was spoken with the tone of an impish advisor, but the gleam in his eyes persisted in amusement, as if Arsenio's choices felt most appropriate. Niklas ran miles in the rain and swung fists at punching bags until they bled. He smoked until he became nauseous and steered clear of sleep as if it were a persistent lover. He knew a man's vices. They came in all forms.\n⠀\nAnother step, and he was in front of Arsenio, halting to leave. Subtly, he looked the man over— surely, it was not so discreet as he might have believed, and it meant nothing to Niklas at the time. Hair, as nightly as the quills of a raven, tousled by sweat and riotous wrangles. The young man's jaw was more pronounced than his own, and the sky with its scarce light offered him the aura of a young prince.\n⠀\n\"Arsenio.\" He nodded, and advanced to leave him.\n⠀\n||" }, { "author": "Arsenio Vairnon", "message": "*Us.*\n\nThe word was cast into the catcher's glove like a baseball, leaving Arsenio at the starting plate, bat up and eyes shimmering with the realization that the speed of the pitcher's throw was criminal. \nThe amusement in Niklas' face was like the kind, that Hollywood paid millions of dollars for. Full of creases and valleys; an integrity that came from knowing more than one should at a younger age and holding all that wisdom to age in a oak barrel. It's flavor was smokey in the way specialty bourbon was, and Arsenio still couldn't get over how good looking he was. \nIt would be his luck that he would find someone attractive outside of pounding music and flashing lights. There was something too normal about this, too close and yet... Not close enough.\nHe could hear Niklas' accent hiding from him, stifled down around the smoke. His gaze took in the contours of his body, underneath all the shades of black, carefully chosen to cloak himself perfectly. He wondered what this stranger looked like underneath all the antihero's wardrobe, wondered what that accent tasted like when it was mo—...\n\nThe younger pursed his lips, cutting his thoughts off. It was the adrenaline that streamlined that curiosity and Arsenio knew the reality was to make that fantasy moot. It was easy to imagine strangers for him, as that was the closest he'd ever get to something real.\nNiklas spoke his name again, a bold period of ending rather than a semicolon. The \"R\" Was too harsh, and his lips parted as he watched him leave. He cursed, mentally. \n\nComing up off the wall himself, a long ash had fallen from the cigarette as soon as he brought it to his lips again, not having realized that the other male had sobered him from the addiction for that long. He blew it out quickly, letting it fall into the same puddle. \nWords tumbled out into the stagnant air before he could catch them. \n\n**\"You're invited to my funeral..!\"** He called out to Niklas, grinning, and then turning the opposite direction to fi" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "At the heart of Hades' stands the Eternal Elegance casino, a lavish and mysterious establishment where mortals and immortals alike try their luck. The casino's opulent interiors are adorned with dark hues, ethereal lighting, and subtle nods to the mythological underworld. Games of chance are intertwined with the whims of fate, creating an otherworldly atmosphere." }, { "author": "Plutus, God of Wealth", "message": "Plutus had a feeling that encouraging Persephone to go where she wanted might end up being a problem for him. He just wasn't sure when the ball would drop. When word would finally reach Demeter, when her wrath would hunt him down and attempt to swallow him up in guilt - guilt that he neither felt nor cared to interact with. He wasn't worried because he wasn't afraid of her, but he did anticipate a headache worse than any hangover. \n\nThe best way deal with any possible interactions with his mother was by avoiding her completely which meant he needed to be all over the place and nowhere specific at the same time. It was easy for him since that was a normal day for him; he went from his house to his office, to the Dionysus's Vineyards and then all the way to the casino. The spots he picked weren't unusual, but moving around might have made him harder to track. \n\nHe got all the way to the casino before his plan came to a halt at the Craps table. \n\nWhile Plutus had nothing to lose, he still enjoyed a good game of Craps. He was the best kind of gambler - one that paid up when he lost, but drained the dealer for all they had if he was on a roll. Most casinos hated him on principle, but he never cheated, and he never blessed nor cursed anyone while inside. Unless, of course, someone considered his very presence a blessing or a curse.\n\nDressed in black pants, a golden vest - not just in color but in material - and a gold crown shaped into a gold floral pattern in honor of Persephone, he had entered the Eternal Elegance Casino tipsy, and remained there as he sank further and further to the bottom of a bottle. He drank in support of his sister, wishing her the best with her undertaking of the Underworld. He drank in preparation for his mother's inevitable drama over the situation. But most of all, he drank because another piece of him had been chipped away, pushing him to grow colder. His apathy, which was reserved mostly for humanity and his own mother, was stretching even further and, while he didn't truly lose his sister - the only one he felt anything for - he knew he wouldn't see her for a while, or even as often as he used to. While it made him happy to see her free and doing what she wanted, deep down, he felt a twinge of sadness. \n\nHe puffed another breath of smoke and leaned back in his chair as he watched the next roller take position and everyone finished placing bets. Plutus tossed a couple of hundred dollars on the field and lost it immediately as a seven was rolled. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, taking another, longer drag of his cigarette. \n\nHe wished to himself and to the god of carnal love that it would be a long night of drinking, gambling, and smoking." }, { "author": "Demeter", "message": "'She's not here, goddess. I'm afraid she's gone.' They were not words she wanted to hear, words that played on repeat within her mind. Now, as she stood outside of a damn casino the internal scream of anger was constantly building. She wanted to set it loose and watch as the world around her became wilted and desolate. Just one scream and the earth would wither under each step she took and leak out like an acid that couldn't be contained. She knew who had the audacity to take her daughter from her but she didn't understand what she had done to receive treatment such as this. She had only ever cared and loved Persepone, wanting her safety from the very thing Hades' was. \n\nDemeter's search for answers had led her here, standing in a dirty casino, in the proud domain of Hades. The son who never accepted her parenting, the disappointment that would never see the truth in his mothers love hiding within its walls. She hated every idea that Persephone had come to him instead of her. She didn't want to think or believe that it was actually her daughter's choice but she knew the spell Hades had cast upon the young girl's heart. She saw it the moment her grandchildren were born. The admiration in them being both a part of her and the one she had loved. She had seen the look before, seen it on her own face. Demeter shook her head and adjusted her hair, ridding herself of being haunted by the past. Now was not the time, she needed to find Persephone. \n\nDemeter pushed open the doors to the obsidian plated building and barged in. The place was barren, except for a few gamblers who had jumped from Demeter's robustious entrance. She had expected to see more but the doom and gloom of an impending end of the world seemed to have knocked some sense into the normal high rollers. She raked her eyes over the few that dared to make eye contact with her, their heads quickly snapping back to their thrills in fear of a goddesses wrath.\n\nThe gold of Plutus' vest stood out against the black and red of the casino around him. She never understood his embodiment of the sin in which he called forth from humans. The greed written in the gold crown he wore upon his head. While she didn't care for its continuity, she dared to think that part of his wardrobe called to the lineage that sprung from her. The floral print was beautiful, a homage, and if he were to dull the shine, which she would never do, he would find the color of wheat that was his mother. A smile fled from her lips as quick as it was summoned. She had muted herself so that her children could flourish.\n\nDemeter walked over and sat down next to him, waving at the dealer to let him know she wouldn't be long. \n\n\"Where is she, Plutus?\" She did not waste any time in small talk, knowing he would just berate her anyways." }, { "author": "Plutus, God of Wealth", "message": "\"Heeeere she comes.\" The words were said under contemptuous breath, only audible to the dealer who looked alarmingly toward the door. Many necks craned in the same direction, carrying widened eyes and nervous smiles. Those smart enough to read the room took their winnings and left while those who continued to look through the bottom of a glass remained with their false confidence and clumsy hands. \n\nOnly Plutus couldn't be bothered to flinch or wince. Facing away from the door, he didn't even glance to confirm who glared fire into his back. He could feel it. The burn of her anger, the heat of betrayal - or what he assumed she would claim as betrayal. Their definitions certainly differed on that account. \n\nEach step in his direction took the spine out of those sitting at his table. One player abandoned his money to take refuge at the bar across the casino. Another gathered what little he had left and went to cash out. The only two left aside from Plutus was the dealer and the roller who seemed to drunk to know who was approaching. \n\nWhen she sat next to him, he still didn't look at her, choosing to watch the dice being rolled only to roll his eyes at seeing another seven. \"Looks like my luck is running out.\"\n \nDemeter wasn't particularly threatening to look at. She was beautiful and disarming, and those who worshipped her had many good reasons to do so. But her resting bitch face was on par with Scarlett O'Hara, and seasoning it with actual anger made it spicy enough for mortals to be afraid of a goddess of the harvest.\n\n\"Put one hundred down for me on the ten,\" He said to the dealer who still seemed frozen by Demeter's presence. When he didn't first comply, Plutus passed his own version of RBF the man's way which seemed to jumpstart the game. \n\n\"My dearest mother,\" He said, his tone full of the sarcasm he was known for. \"Not even a \"Hello\" Or a \"How are you doing\" For your only son? How hurtful.\" He finished off his wine and raised it up to motion for the server to give him another one. \"I'm afraid I don't know what \"She\" You are talking about.\"" }, { "author": "Demeter", "message": "The craps table was not her favorite, the rolling of dice showing her diminished luck. Luck she had spent on two children who seemingly hated her. All she wanted was to protect, love, and care for them; but all she got in return was abandonment. Abandonment for what? Love that wasn't true, that wasn't requited? Money, partying, and gambling? These once beautiful, sweet, and innocent children of hers quickly became like the environment in which she tried to keep them. \n\nDemeter waved her hand in the air, dismissing the formalities yet again. He stated he wanted a hello but she knew it was just his way of combating the question. She did not want to give him a reason to plunge yet another knife into her still-beating heart. She knew her son far better than he wanted to admit.\n\n\"Do not act as if you are clueless,\" She raised an eyebrow at him before throwing up her hand at the server for a glass herself. 'Sauvignon.' She mouthed before the server nodded his head before quickly scurrying off. She would need a drink after this conversation. \"I do hope Hades had the decency to use his son's gifts for these wines.\" She mumbled before looking back at Plutus'. She reached forward and moved a piece of his hair out of his eyes before adjusting his crown. She knew he liked his disheveled look, at least what she presumed to be disheveled, but she would straighten it as much as she could while in his presence. \n\n\"You and your sister have been speaking more recently and something tells me she would talk to you before she would me.\" She rolled her eyes as if it were a hindrance or a personal jab at her. Her once beautiful and ever-trusting daughter sought her for everything. Especially advise. Now, her baby girl ran away and told her nothing. Running into the arms of Hades who just sat and watched as he threw a hypothetical middle finger in Demeter's direction. \n\nShe leaned back against the black velvet chair and draped her arm across the side as she watched him place yet another b\n\nEt. He stated his luck was running out but it seemed as if it was another statement directed at her." }, { "author": "Plutus, God of Wealth", "message": "\"Oh, mother, I would never,\" He said as he finished off another glass of wine and set the empty cup on a passing tray. \"*She* Is just such a broad term. Are you talking about my secretary? The barista I blessed this morning? Be specific.\" \n\nAnother roll of the dice. Another loss. Plutus's head dropped back, heavy with annoyance, and when he lifted it back up, his crown was crooked, his hair disheveled. He was about to fix it all himself, but Demeter dared to put her hands on him before he could stop her. His back straightened as she tucked his hair back and adjusted his crown, frozen until realization struck him and he shoved her hands back. \n\n\"*Don't* Touch me,\" He said, pointing an angry finger at her like he was scolding a child. \"Your hands reek of desperation and I can't stand it.\" Every longing expression on her face, every attempt at a gentle touch begged him for attention. Begged him for love that he no longer felt for her or for anyone else. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was someone who approached him with outstretched hands hoping for a handout. \n\nHe threw another hundred on the table, but his chips scattered across the entire Craps mat, making a mess. It didn't take him long to regain his composure, but his shoulders were still stiff. His voice lost its sharpness, but didn't soften for her benefit. \n\n\"We have spoken more than just recently,\" He said, rolling his eyes at her assumption that the world revolved around her and no one else. \"You don't need to know about every conversation we have. I thought you might have learned by now that hovering has done you no favors.\"\n\nAnother loss. Plutus's nose scrunched up as she shoved the rest of his chips onto the board, going all in. His night of gambling was ruined with bad luck, so betting everything was the only way to get out of there sooner. \n\n\"Either way, I am not telling you where she is,\" He said, golden eyes meeting hers with sincere, unwavering sternness. \"Go waste your time somewhere else.\"" }, { "author": "Demeter", "message": "\"Your secretary is the last person I would be talking about,\" Just speaking of the vial woman caused a bad taste on her tongue. She wasn't quiet in her distaste either, she had let the woman know as soon as she met her that she had no cares for her hussy transgressions with Plutus. It didn't help that the secretary felt some obligation and freedom to call her Demi, a nickname she had detested her entire life. She rolled her eyes in slight annoyance just at the thought of her. \n\nThe dice bounced against the velvet surface but Demeter's eyes did not leave her son. His retorts and small jabs bounced off her as if she were wearing armor, used to the way he spoke to her as if she were the scum on the bottom of a worn shoe. Yet what he couldn't see was her protection over him despite the way he acted towards her. The subtle way she checked to see if he was okay and that he was doing well. The reason in which she straightened his crown. \n\nShe knew her son was in there somewhere, behind the cold exterior that he had grown over the course of the last few decades. His unwavering misguidance and the blindness to the truth of the matters. Her hand balled in a fist just thinking of the party in which was guilty of causing his loyalty to flip; another one of her stupid brothers that thought they had a right to everything. \n\nShe flinched slightly when his chips scattered across the mat. She didn't always set out to cause him anger but somehow she always did. She leaned forward and reached out a hand with thoughts to comfort him but she knew it would only cause him to stir even more, his anger resulting from her and her actions in the first place.\n\n\"I don't expect to know your every conversation. I would like to know that my children are safe so that I may not have to fret for their wellbeing.\" She knew she could be overbearing. The inability to let her children stray too far for fear of losing them completely had good intentions. She sighed. \"I just want to know if she is safe or as safe as she can be.\" \n\nThe waiter came back with the glasses, his hands slightly shaking as he held the tray towards them both. Demeter wasn't sure who his reaction was towards as she knew she was threatening but Plutus had his own way to cause fear. She took the glass and smiled at the server, showing a cordial front. \"Besides, even if you truly did not know of her location I would never be wasting my time talking to you.\"" }, { "author": "Plutus, God of Wealth", "message": "\"I'll be sure to tell Alexis how much you miss her,\" He said, a smirk darkening across his lips. Demeter's feelings for his secretary wasn't a secret, but neither was Plutus's desire to keep her on just because of how much it pissed his mother off. He often shared his grim satisfaction with Alexis as they did obscene things in his office, and they would laugh together until their mouths or hands were too busy to do anything else. \n\nThere was still some residual stiffness in his body after she touched him. Those that didn't know him well - and there were many - wouldn't notice much of a change. The God of Wealth always had good posture, after all. It frustrated him to no end that his mother was one of the few who would know exactly how her touch affected him. How the feeling crawled under his skin and made him more tense than he would ever admit out loud. \n\nWhen she reached for him again, he was ready and recoiled in time to avoid it. \"Are you *Deaf*?\" He sneered. \n\nThe server returned with the drinks, and Plutus snatched his own and downed it in its entirety before the man could escape. He offered the tray again so that Plutus could set his empty glass back down, but instead, the god carelessly tossed it over his shoulder and let it shatter to the floor somewhere behind him. There were gasps, turning heads, and quiet conversation, but most people turned away to pretend to mind their own business. \n\n\"Your children are adults and can take care of themselves,\" He said, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table as he waited for the next roll. \"They haven't needed your protection in a long time.\" His eyes snapped toward hers, locking with them. He wanted to make it clear that he was no longer just referring to Persephone.\n\nThe roll was thrown. The dice showed twelve. Plutus didn't react despite having won his weight in money after pushing all he had out in the field. He just motioned to the dealer to cash him out as he stood up to leave. Would Demeter follow him or stay put? He didn't know and found himself annoyed with both possibilities. \n\n\"That is something else we disagree on, dear mother,\" He said. \"Because you're certainly wasting mine.\"" }, { "author": "Demeter", "message": "If the pain of his flench at her touch did not hurt her enough, the words expressing how much he did not appreciate her motherly instincts felt as if they were thrown in her face with a facilitated effort. She could handle the anger and rebellious outbursts that had plagued their relationship, but something about his disgruntled reaction chipped at the piece of her heart reserved for her son. \n\nDemeter lifts the glass to her lips and takes a long sip before setting the glass on the side table. If she were a worse goddess, one who could not keep her intrusive thoughts to herself like her son, she may have dumped the glass of wine on the table if not only to garner more of his attention. Instead, she simply watched as he grew even more angry at the lack of luck, downing his own glass and throwing it over his shoulder. She didn't look at the glass but instead stared at the side of her son's head. \n\n\"Do you not have any manners anymore?\" The tone came out far more cruel than she meant, the motherly tone a digression in the normality she had learned to address her children. \"My children are still my children no matter what age they think they are grown. Obviously, you are no adult if you act in this foolish manner. No wonder no one cares for you apart from me and your sister.\" Her eyes did not leave his as she spoke. The anger was there, always there, lingering under the surface and Plutus was just the person to unleash it upon. A son whose ego stood in front of everything and everyone.\n\nAfter a deep breath, she collected herself. Taking the last sip of her wine and standing. She would go, like he wanted. He was not giving her any answers tonight and he would not accept the truth she threw back at him. She pulled her jacket over her shoulders and looked up at her son. It had been decades, millenia since he had outgrown her but there was something bittersweet about the thought of it now. His features were so stark in comparison to Iasion \"Do not leave because of me. I will go... As it seems I am never welcome when it comes to you.\" \n\nBefore he could say another word or look at her with hatred yet again, she stepped from the table and walked away." }, { "author": "Plutus, God of Wealth", "message": "Plutus almost laughed at Demeter's gripes about his manners. It almost felt *Motherly* Of her to criticize him in such a way, though he could have easily turned it right back onto her by saying she was the one who raised him, and therefore, weren't his actions a result of her parenting? He held his tongue, though. Not out of respect for her, but out of respect for himself and his own sanity. He wanted to leave, and if he allowed himself to keep talking to her, his mood would suffer more than it already had. \n\nHe drew the line, though, at the harsh truths being spat in his face. He clenched his jaw and spun around with fire in his golden eyes. His tone didn't quite match his eyes; it was full of snark without the anger, but there were still an edge to it that many wouldn't notice. \"Funny you decide to act the \"Caring mother\" Role *After* Your children can't stand the sight of you.\" His harsh words bore no guilt in his thoughts; if she wanted drag him through the mud, he would pull her along for the ride. \"If I needed someone to care for me, I would have suffered through your presence for much longer than I did.\"\n\nWhile her demeanor seemed to calm, his remained rigid. His posture was straight, as always, and he towered over her. Looking down on her was easy, as he felt no love for the woman who gave birth to him. The woman who watched his father die at the hands of his own brother and still dared to side with Poseidon who had maintained Dardanus's loyalty. The woman who took his freedom away by clinging to him, suffocating him in overprotectiveness until the only way he could truly breathe was to break away and distance himself. The woman who forgot about him soon after having another child. The woman who called herself his mother but had long forgotten what that meant.\n\n\"The truth, *Dear mother,* Is that Persephone finally figured out what I have known for so long.\" He looked Demeter up and down as if to emphasize his point. \"And it looks like she made the right decision to get as far away from you as she could.\" \n\nAs Demeter left him there, he hoped those words sank in to her core. He hoped she felt them in her bones and realized that her presence in his life was no longer needed, so if she ever had the urge to seek him out again, she might think twice about doing so." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "A sophisticated yet enigmatic space where patrons can unwind and enjoy crafted drinks. The lounge's decor combines elements of the underworld with modern aesthetics, creating an ambiance that is both alluring and mysterious. It's a place where individuals from all walks of life come together to share stories and experiences." }, { "author": "Amara ", "message": "▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂\n\nAmara's heart hammered against her chest, each beat echoing in the silence of the dimly lit bar. An icy gaze looked on from beyond the confines of the bar top, Amara's jaw clenching and grip tightening around her glass in hand until liquid could be felt spilling between her fingertips, spilling over her fingers like tears of frustration. A slight sting to her skin as alcohol mixed with the cuts that had already begun to heal. A human, one that had found himself within the Champions protection, was hanging on another woman with dark intentions in his eyes. Persephone had made her intentions clear through Morpheus' lips, but letting the crimes of humanity slip by in fear of retaliation from his Queen was proving to be far more difficult than she had anticipated. Morpheus' words echoed in her head like a soothing lullaby, but Amara's fury screamed to be heard above them all. \n\nThe girl, an innocent thing with blonde strands of hair that now fell in front of her face from being bumped into in a crowded room far too often, looked every bit of the uncomfortable victim, and Amara stood in response. She had had enough of watching the powerless be helpless against those that found themselves powerful. It was time he learned what real power could be, shadows forming all around her as they consumed the light. \n_ _\n\n*\"Amara...\"* The bartender's voice cut through the fog like ice water on her unchecked temper. \"What.\" Her voice was spoken through clenched teeth, and she looked nothing of the woman of unparalleled beauty from the blood of Eros, and every bit the beast that lurked in the darkness. Hands went up in response, an innocence to his words, and friendship in his intentions. *\"Let it be...\"* Every person within this bar knew who the Champions were, and though Alexios would never let behavior like this slide, Amara felt the sudden need to take care of it quickly and on her own. Justice had levels, it took time and explanations, and meanwhile more victims would be made. \n\nShe released a slow breath, attempting to reign in the tempest raging within her, but the sight before her was like kindling to a flame. It raged within, desperate and wanting to escape like the caged animal it was, until finally she caved to the whispers. With a determined stride, she ignored the bartender's pleas and approached the unfolding scene, her presence commanding attention as she stood between the human and his prey.\n_ _\n\n\"Dearest, perhaps you are blind to when a woman wants nothing to do with you, but do let me help. She is clearly not interested. Walk away.\" Her voice was a silken song until the last words, growled from between teeth. The underlying threat was unmistakable, as her eyes flashed with the darkness Deimos had gifted her. The human's gaze flicked up to meet hers, a glimmer of defiance shining in his eyes as a smirk placed upon his lips. A dare, as he too knew who Amara was. The former pet of fear, loyal to Alexios for as long as it suited her, and under Persephone's thumb. It was clear that he felt no threat in her presence, that he thought himself invincible for the fake niceties he placed before those in charge. \nStill Amara's gaze did not falter, the girl glancing up at Amara with relief evident in auburn eyes. *\"It-... No, everything is fine. Just a simple misunderstanding.\" Yet she could see his grip indent into her porcelain skin, the flinch upon her face hidden quickly with a look of innocence that pained Amara to see. A flash of who she was before she had been shrouded in all that made mortals break was held within her own mind. Turning to the man once again, seeing the one who was responsible for her own misfortunes. \"Walk. Away.\" It was no longer a threat, but a promise. \n_ _\n\nDarkness began to consume the three of them, the world around them vanishing as she transformed before his eyes. She was fear reincarnate. She was the monster that hid under the bed. She was darkness, and flames, and all that consumed the anxious mind. \"Go.\" She spoke to the woman with a tilt of her head, the man releasing his death grip upon his victim to back within her shadows as he cowered like the mere mortal he was. \"So, we find ourselves powerful, do we?\" A laugh rang around him in all corners, an echo that sent chills down the spine of all those who heard it.\n\n\"Shall we see just how long the powerful can stand?\" \n\nDown they cascaded, into every form of torment that played in his mind. Until the sound of his screams were a symphony of pleasure to Amara's ears. Down further, until his mind had broken and shattered. Until she was sure that no other victim could be had at his hands. Until his mind was no longer his, but hers, hers to control and manipulate in the folds of fear. \n_ _\n\n—\n\nIt was those pleasant thoughts that crossed her mind as she nursed her bleeding nose upon the curb. The sight of his form running off, pants soaked with the evidence of his undoing. She had humiliated him, and left him with no opportunity to reclaim his ego, but she knew who he ran to. She knew who would soon show in response with demands of explanations, or perhaps he would send her back to the sleepless nights once more. Every insecurity played like a puppet on the string as he made her dance for him. \n\nNo matter, she would stand by her actions. Her form curled upon the curb as she waited for him, for her Prince of Dreams. \n\n▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂\n𝙋𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎:" }, { "author": "papadrah", "message": "\"Do you feel better, my pet?\"\n\nThe words came from behind her from the ethereal realm of the dream. It was as if he'd always been there, lurking like the shadows cast by wayward lights through the gloom. Her mind had danced with the devil, who was his presence, and thus, he now was looming within the realm of darkness she was born to. The question was how he had known where to find her. In this realm, his abilities were limited, yet he had managed to materialize as if he were in her father's realm. It was just the way of Morpheus, though there was one thing that her mind was slow to pick up on. \n\nHe was here.\n\nThis was no dream. She had been sitting on the sidewalk, wide awake, and yet he was here. The entirety of their blossoming relationship had taken place in his realm. Frequent, passionate sexual encounters had left her a quivering mess in the morning for different reasons than his cruel torture sessions. Yet he was never there when her eyes opened. Just the residual feeling of his all-encompassing warmth fading from her flesh with the morning light. \n\nShe had claimed she was no one's pet, and the way he phrased the word was not to be like he was establishing dominance over her. It left his breath as a clever turn of phrase. A term of endearment passed between two that had been intimate for weeks now. Slow, meandering steps echoed with the tap of dress shoes upon concrete. His handsome, dark visage, clad in a black three-piece suit and tie, only further paid homage to the birthright of darkness. Not a shred of color touched metal, fabric, or plastic in the entirety of what he wore. Both arms were behind his back at first, making him appear as if he was contemplating the weight of the world. \n\nIt would have been easy for him to tell her if she was or was not in trouble, but the fact that this was a personal visit illuminated a few things. The first was that he respected her enough to gift her with his presence. Even in a fight, it was debatable whether she could finish him, but it was saying much that he would even put his constitution at risk by mingling with her. It said he was absolutely sure she would not turn her powers against him. Physically, he could snap her neck, but he did not have a tithe of his abilities in the waking world. \n\nThe second important thing she could gleam was that she could not be in that much trouble given he had chosen to appear here and not where he could string her up and torture her without mercy. A hand slipped free from his back. There was a handkerchief there, and he brought the fabric up to the underside of her nose and gently tended to the trickle of blood. \"You are quite dramatic.\" She could only assume he was speaking to the application of her powers. \"There is no art in your design. You could have made that one suffer much more deliciously if you had any knack for showmanship.\" \n\nAfter a few dabs, he noted there was not much in the way of blood left. Yet, the ethereal god of dreaming took control of the situation in an instant. Her hair soon felt the snatch of his fingers from the hand that had not been tending to her. Digits dug into her thick tresses and pulled taunt, forcing her head back so she could meet his lips. The man kissed her like it was given, and there would be no resistance, even though they had never touched in this realm. Yet, she would find all was as it had been. There was no embellishing of prowess or forged electricity. The energy that coursed through him was stoked by her presence and fed into deeper passes of open lips and wanton tongue. \n\nThe interaction was brief, but it was a confirmation. She was his, and he would not suffer any question to that. When it broke, he forced her to gaze up at him. \"Bring me home tonight?\" Once again, it is a half-order, half-question. The man respected enough to give her the choice, even if he was implying he knew the answer. \"When the time comes, of course.." }, { "author": "Amara ", "message": "\"I knew you would come...\" But she did not, nor did she expect it to be in the waking hours of twilight's embrace. A breath, a slight indent to her skin by nail, awake. She was awake, and Morpheus was aproaching her in silent finesse from the shadows, as if a manifestation of her deepest thoughts. Her phantom of dreams. She called in her subconscious thoughts, seeking solace and reprieve, with no real expectations of answers. Silence being all she had ever been met with when it came to the Gods, but Morpheus had answered her summons with gentle allure. He had answered, and he was here in true form.\n\nOverwhelming emotions coursed through her body and threatened to warm the icy exterior she had so carefully placed as a mask to keep all at bay. But she pushed them aside, in practiced art form, her gaze unveiling her true thoughts as they moved to take in the man she had come to know quite well over the recent weeks. Her eyes traced over his form. Roaming over him, as if remembering every detail of the dreams he had brought to her in the darkest hours. The evidence shown in the way her eyes darkened with desire, skin flushed with the very nature and memories, in a lover's trance. Watching him as he gently dabbed at the blood that had been evident in her show of power. \n_ _\n\n*\"You are quite dramatic.\"* \n\nFire lit in her gaze at the critical notes, never one to take criticism to her nature well, Amara found anger to be her immediate response to his words. Pulling away from his doting, there was malice in her glare and voice. \"Don't presume I wish for lectures because of our entanglement, Morpheus.\" Yet she realized immediately that his nature was gentle, his voice uncharacteristically soft. He was caring for her, and she was responding to him as if he were her enemy.\n\nHer body slacked in defeat, the defensiveness washing away to reveal apology in sapphire eyes that met his own and left her entirely bare of her defenses. \"I did not wish to attack him. He is... He is one of *Hers*, protected within the Champions rank, but he is a wolf amongst sheep...\" Amara looked to the lights that danced off the windows of the club. The music vibrating against the windows and conversations of joy traveling to their ears in muffled semblance, showing no sign of what had taken place just moments ago. \"There was no tact, because I responded with rage. No control, because there was no thought. I saw his hands, I saw her face, and I could stand by no longer. Then he bated me, taunted me... And all I saw was red. I wanted his suffering, and so I-\"\n_ _\n\nShe was not able to finish her ramblings. Soon her hair was taken within his grasp, her head pulled to meet his own. Lips intertwining and taking her entirely by surprise. Her entire self responded to his claim upon her. Melting into a sense of familiarity. Melting into him. \n\nHe was everything he had been within her dreams and more. For this was real, reality warping around her until it was only them. Only his breath against her lips, and his touch sending goosebumps along exposed arms. He was claiming more than just her mind now, but her physical being, and Amara found herself accepting of it. Accepting of the way he consumed her so entirely that her mind went blank of all her excuses and rants, unable to think of anything other than when he would kiss her again. \n\n*\"Bring me home tonight?\"*\n\nThe question sent a shock through her that sobered her entirely. Her eyes going wide at the implications of what this meant. To him. To her. He was asking to be just a dream no longer, but a reality. To own each other so wholly that they surpassed every realm. \"Y-you wish.. Hm.\" For the first time in Amara's existence, she found herselt at a loss for words. She had guarded herself for the reality of torture, for mindlessness as sleep evaded her, but instead she had been met with this. With an invitation of vulnerability. \n\n\"Yes, yes, I would very much like that.\" \n_ _" }, { "author": "papadrah", "message": "Amara was a fire-made flesh. Despite being born to darkness with fear as her ally, she should have been crafted in the image of Prometheus, given the way heat could spring to her eyes at the slightest provocation. For a master puppeteer like Morpheus, it was trivial to throw her off balance. She had excuses for her imperfect tactics, and like the ever-patient deity he was, he listened to her, but none of that changed the desire to claim her lips in the waking world. For as much as he liked to claim to be beyond the temptations his fellow gods fell into, it was true that she ignited something in him he had not felt in eons. \n\nThere was quite the satisfaction in watching her mask crack under the strain of whiplash. Pick at her, kiss her, let her take him home. Such would be their cycle. Sparking the rise in her blood pressure meant he could possibly expect that much more enthusiasm in her hips when they found their way to the bedroom, but he was in no rush to claim her body. Instead, he decided to speak his thoughts as he took her hand to lead her down the street. In a roundabout direction, he would head to either of their homes. The end location didn't matter. \n\n\"Fear..\" There was a bit of disdain in her voice. \"Such a base thing. It is an inelegant tool of a brute with no panache.\" It was clear that he was not picking on her in this statement, but more so, the one that had gifted her with her powers. How like a new boyfriend to take shots across the bow at an ex-lover. \"It has no weight without context. For example.\" He began, half turning his body to let his free hand move between them. \"If I wanted you to know fear truly, I would build you up. I would tell you that you are my world and make you feel safe with me. I would sculpt your dreams into safe harbors and let you know nothing but joy. I would raise you up..\" His hand was chopped at the air slowly in vertical steps to emphasize the build-up. Then, he removed the hand with a sudden chop.\n\"That is when you pull the floor and make the fall into despair that much further. It's the height of joy that makes the fear of loss that much more palpable. That victim of yours had very little heights to fall from.\" In this conversation, he had made something clear. They were lovers, yes, but there was still the power in this man to send her into a pit far worse than any other had before him. Maybe this way was his subtle reminder of the delicate balance of their relationship. She couldn't just torture mortals for the joy of it without evoking his queen's wrath. There was also the possibility that this meant nothing, and he wanted the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. \n\nThey returned to their stroll, and Morpheus looked off into the distance before letting the light weight of his appeased gaze fall back on her. \"Worry not, though. I agree with your results, if not in the execution, and so long as you keep your wrath to those who deserve it, I will not challenge you. Just do not think to take advantage of my fondness for you. I have a reputation to maintain. I would not have it said that Morpheus slipped in his duties because his heart felt warmth towards a complicated woman.\" She walked hand in hand with a dream, fingers laced while their pace was as patient as the man that set it. There was nowhere to be or anything to do. \n\n\"I wanted to thank you the other night for your help with Persephone. You allowed me to escape with her and bring her to her lover, though he acted as I expected. Like a child with no way to express himself other than anger..\" The way his eyes rolled suggested that Hade's aimless retaliation had not set well with him. It was important for her to know he did not see his rulers as infallible. Thus giving her insight into how self-serving he could be. It was an important bit of information to have when playing a political game." }, { "author": "Amara ", "message": "Though just as quickly that smirk fell, her face grew ashen with every pronunciation of his sentence. Searching his features for a warning within them, and feeling her body tense with the realization. She felt those walls slowly build back into place, that suffocating darkness of loneliness and realization that no one could truly be there for her the way she hoped. They lived in a realm of Gods and mortals, all claiming to live for another, but she had seen the masks drop too many times. She knew all that lay beneath was a selfish lust and drive for their own pleasures. What would that mean for her? When Morpheus tired of her the way Deimos did. Surely, she would be cast aside once more, a broken play thing begging upon the unforgiving ground. So easily the foolish girl had broken her promise to herself of 'never again' and fallen into Morpheus' arms and whispered promises in the heat of a stolen moment. \n_ _\n\"I get it.\" Her voice was a mumble, a shaky attempt at false confidence. She had let herself fall so easily once more, her inner thoughts chastising her for daring to think anything other than the truth. He was a God. An immortal that had lived for eons before her, and held many a lover within his arms. She was a blimp compared to all that he had seen and experienced. A warm mention of stolen moments in passing. \n_ _\n\n*\"...Because his heart felt warmth towards a complicated woman...\"*\n_ _\nThe irony of these words coming from his lips, as he himself was his own rollercoaster Amara could not catch her breath on. One moment he lifted her, only to crash her into the cold sea of realization, and lift her once more towards the heavens. Somehow, this man toyed with her in ways that felt worse than Deimos. Deimos toyed with her, yes, but in darkness and only darkness. There was never a moment of light and warmth within those sadistic eyes, as he lived and thrived in the depths. Morpheus was both nightmares, and dreams. He was a vision of hope one moment, and despair the next. Amara losing grip on reality as he warped it around her to fit his mood. Never could she grasp the twists and turns of the ride that was her Prince of Dreams.\n_ _\n\"I do not think anyone would take you for such a fool, Morpheus. Not even I.\" There was a razor edge to her tone, a caution that refused to fall back within the heat of his lingering kiss fading upon her swollen lips. Her stubborn nature refusing to let the stone gate crash and burn so easily this time, when his threats had been made clear. \"No need to thank me, it was self preservation if nothing else. A hope that the Queen would think twice on sending those to punish me when she remembers she lives because of a life I took... A life for a life.\" She looked off in the distance, as if in lost thought, the lights of her apartment a cozy reminder of the home she had built around her coming to vision within the distance. Her feet pausing as she realized they neared far too soon.\n_ _\n\n\"Maybe... Maybe this is not a good idea. Tonight, anyway.\" Her teeth grazed her lips in hesitation as eyes blue and vulnerable looked to the lamp she had left on flickered across the streets that lay between. \"Morpheus, I- \" She wanted to say so many things, in both anger and vulnerability. The way he stirred every emotion within her was infuriating, her gaze searching his own for the strength to speak. \"What are we?\" It was the simplest approach to all she had wanted to say, and a test within itself. A test, to know if her walls were meant to stay between them.\n_ _" }, { "author": "Morpheus", "message": "There was no telling if Morpheus enjoyed the game he was playing with her heart. The enigmatic god of the dreaming world seldom gave anything away by his actions. Generally, he was monotoned and moved at her side as gracefully as if he was floating amongst the sleepers. There were gentle nods or perhaps long stares, but she could no more read this one than she could read the future in the stars above. Yet, despite this, there were cracks in the mask. Little hints that she was no longer the plaything of a wrathful god. \n\n\"I am on my own side.\" Morpheus began his tone with nearly a dreamy sort of lilt above the use of any bravado. These were facts. Not simple things that others could debate. \"I respect Hades and Persephone. I am protected in the physical realm by their law. Do I always agree with them?\" His head shook from side to side. \"Unleashing the undead upon the world was childish and short-sighted. A man-child's move that shows no forethought for the moment.\" It sounded harsh, but after a thought, he decided to confuse her. \"And yet, I do not know if I could be so aloof if something were to have happened to you. Who is to say I wouldn't lock the slumbers in nightmares?\"\n\nDid he care about her or not? Was this a game to make her feel safe, then pull the rug out from beneath her? It was impossible to place, but Morpheus operated in the in-between. Perhaps he could not even tell. She claimed she \"Got it,\" But Morpheus shook his head, doubting her but not putting a voice to it. How could she understand it if a god didn't?\n\nAmara fluctuated in this insecurity between broken and afraid, then suddenly vicious. Morpheus tracked the mood the best he could, but he was not one used to the mortal emotions that ruled half of her thought processes. For, the touch of divinity within her was not pure. It was possible she had inherited the wreck less nature of both of her parents without any of the more sensible parts to draw from.\n\n\"Their lives were forfeited the moment they put on that armor and grabbed their weaponry. You did nothing special, Amara.\" His head shook. \"My lady had no issue with you punishing those that asked for it. It was collateral damage or someone innocent being driven mad from your lack of proper investigation. Your shotgun approach to unleashing your abilities doesn't exactly fall into line with what she wants, and I cannot say I disagree. There are *Ways* Things are done.\" \n\nThe fact that she tried to refuse to take him up to her place did not sit well with the dream lord. Had they been in his realm, he may have punished her for suggesting such a thing. That look he gave her was sharp and withering, and the snap of his neck to face her broke the languid, dream-like movements into something more nightmarish. If she hadn't been scared of the drop before that moment, then perhaps she should. \n\n\"We have come too far to turn back now. You are right there, and if I have ventured to meet you in person, I will be going to your bed.\" It was said in absolutes, but he softened when she stumbled over the obvious question. There were adorable moments if one knew where to look. She was not used to being brought to heel, and she did not take to a more domineering presence gracefully. She had been walloped with the stick a few times tonight, but it was perhaps time to let her nibble on the carrot. \n\n\"My darling..\" He began in a much more gentle tone. Morpheus's gentle yet electrifying touch came to curl at her jaw, sending jolts through her system as he looked into her eyes. \"We agreed to this. The first time I took you in my realm. I am yours. You are mine. If you wish to give that more conventional title, I will not stop you, but we are an item.\" A bit of pity entered his eyes. \"You have nothing to fear to me so long as you are loyal. Do not tell me you, the champion of fear, is afraid of little ol' me? Take me upstairs. I plan to reward you thoroughly for being such a *Good girl*.\"" }, { "author": "Amara ", "message": "Amara listened to his words in her state of confusion. The ride that was Morpheus was unrelenting in her passionate feelings that rest below the surface. Did she herself blame Hades for his actions? Did she condone them or did she rebel against such actions? She was not sure she could speak on the dead that rampaged the earth when her own reactions remained uncontrolled and full of rage and flames. She had made a man within a bar piss himself and run into the shadows as fast as his legs could take him tonight, and that was for a girl she did not know. What would she do in Morpheus' name? If someone held a knife to his throat and threatened his existence while he lay there dying. A shudder ran through her physically, a shake of her head to rid herself of the dark shadows that curled around her at the image, to even think of the hell she would release upon the earth. 24 hours would seem child's play. No, as much as it inconvenienced her, she could not resent him for his response. \n\n*\"...Their lives were forfeited the moment they put on the armor...\"*\n\n\"Were they?\" It was a soft whisper at his accusations, his reasoning to the lives that had been taken by her hands. Amara could not help but feel the guilt still strangling her, however. They were mortal, confused mortals that did not know the games in which the gods played. The fools were playing checkers, as the gods played chess above them, and it cost them their lives but they stood nonetheless for what they believed in. War made all believe crazy things, turn to desperate thoughts and actions. Those men were no different, and though she did not support their cause, it was a cause they believed was right. Death was perhaps too permanent for them. For their families that now missed a father, a husband, a brother. A sigh of contemplation left her and she relented to Morpheus' gaze only to find him staring at her with threat in his dark gaze. \n\n\"Morpheus.\" She spoke in caution to his assured words. His own possessive nature giving way to the nightmares that forever lurked beneath the surface. \n\n*\"...The champion of fear, is afraid of lil' ol' me...\"*\n_ _\n\nThough that was just the thing, her jaw tearing from his grasp so that she could cast her gaze down to hide the truth. She was terrified of him, but not for his nightmares, or torture tactics, but for the feelings he had so easily coaxed from her with those fingertips against her jawline. She cared. She cared for the Prince of Dreams and King of Nightmares, and she wished for it to stop. Her heart pounding within her chest at the gentle tone that blanketed her like the warmth of the sun on her skin. A solemn nod to her head as her fingers tangled within his own again. \n\n\"Let us go upstairs...\" \n_ _\n\n_ _\n```...Fade to black. End Scene.```" } ]

[ { "author": "lord_satan_", "message": "Location: Eternal Elegance Casino\nA meeting between two gods, one of curses and the other of the wilds. \n\nPan had been asked to perform for the opening of a new club inside the casino, and runs into an old fling, though there is more to these two than meets the eye." }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "Pan let out a soft sigh as he made his way through the loud casino, people cheering as they won, or the loud groans of frustration with louds shouts. The ringing sound of music playing as people tested their luck with slot machines. Pan didn't understand why he was here, no he understood, he had been offered a place on the stage to sing one of his new songs. He had decided Fantasy, Love is Banned, and Half of My Heart would be his best bet, since he would be performing at one of the restaurants in the casino. \n\nHe didn't need to perform for a while so he was happy to enjoy himself and explore the large building, see whatever was doing, maybe play a few games himself. He looked around before finally spotting the tables, for poker and black jack. He passed by a roulette table, just as someone won, screaming out in joy and jumping into the arms of their partner. He couldn't help but stare at the couple, hugging each other. \n\nPan couldn't help but feel jealousy seep into his skin at the sight, he could have everything he wanted... But that- love was never in his cards. He frowns looking away and curses. His mood sour a bit, as his heart hurt, he had loved so many times in his long life. Yet none of them worked out, he always believed he found the one only for them to laugh and leave him. Saying it was a one night stand, that they didn't like him like that. Pan slowly started to believe he was unlovable.\n\n_ _\nHe had crushes, and fallen in love, but none- not a single one worked. Fate had been cruel to him in the past, forcing him to marry someone who didn't love him as her punishment. What about Pan? That was a punishment to him was it not. He remained faithful to her, waiting out the curse alongside her. He grew to love her but the love wasn't returned, it never is. \n\nHe sighed sadly and turned. He started making his way to the Bar, he needed a drink to wallow a bit, he couldn't help but think of his stupidity, Friends with Benefits. He tried it, but it wasn't for him, he fell for his partners, and he... He can't handle that rejection. Pan cursed to fall so deeply in love with anyone who shows any form of affection to him. That's why his music always had a theme, love, falling in love with people. Even with so many years of rejection he keeps hope, though now it's dulling. Dimming. \n\n\"No more love\" He muttered softly, as he sat down on a seat at the bar, he ordered himself to drink, he hid his face in his hands. The drink was placed in front of him quickly, the Bartender was effective and quick, he took the glass and threw his head back. Taking a large gulp of his drink to feel something other than the full ache he got when he thought. He slams the glass down on the bar and orders another one. Not one to easily get drunk." }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "The carpet was a lot more plush than he'd expected after years of being walked on. His own leather dress shoes reflected the bright, moving light of the games, as well as his watch and his bright eyes. \nHe walked behind each person at a table, the booths, or a seat, obviously in no rush and waiting for the fancy of a bet to call to him from a machine or the gaze of a dealer. It was obvious that his heart wasn't in it. \nHe wasn't here to play a slot machine, not when he followed the Forest God from a hundred feet or so. Alastor's movements were lackadaisical, hair slightly mussed and his undershirt, a pretty burgandy underneath a dark grey suit, popped open one too many buttons. Pinks, greens and blues shown off his clavicle. \n\nHe'd learned that Pan had sided with Athena earlier on when he'd asked, but the need to talk to him wasn't present at the time of initiation. \nTheir relationship was... Complicated. \nAlastor wasn't ever truthful about his own feelings for Pan. He couldn't be. He *Wouldn't* Wager on that stack. \nWhat was once a Friend with Benefits relationship quickly devolved into something else. It had happened quickly, and without Alastor realizing it\n In the face of having to break his own heart, he agreed to end things when Pan brought them up. Alastor was genuine when he said: \"I would never tie you down if you are unhappy. It's not my place.\"\nThey'd agreed on an entirely different set of rules before, but right then, Alastor felt something sink and lay heavy against the rung of his ribcage. \nWhen had he...?\n\nTherefore, their time together was brief, and becoming shorter and less frequent with every passing moment. \nUntil now. Alastor would be glad to have...\"Run in\" With the other. He wanted some information... And maybe an excuse.\nPan slammed his cup to the bartop and Alastor's eyebrows rose in curiosity of the Forest God's sudden vigor. \n\n**\"Trying to drown out a demon? It's going to take more than imbibment... I learned to swim,\"** He cooed, smiling\n\nCooly at Pan as he rested himself against the bar, his elbow propping him up.\n\n**\"It's been a long time, hasn't it? What are you doing in a place where betting on things is the main theme?\"** \nAlastor's eyes couldn't help in the way they fell to Pan's lips, tracing the contours of his features back up to his eyes. The action was unapologetic." }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "Pan hadn't noticed the other god had followed him the whole time, not till he spoke up, making Pan let out a soft gasp and turn to Alastor, Pan's mixed match eyes of a soft brown and milky white fell on the Alastors bright hazel blue. He looked shocked at the sight of one of his problems in front of him. Pan couldn't stop his heart from skipping a beat, and then tightening. Alastor, still as handsome as the day they last saw each other, so many centuries ago. Pan used his music as an excuse... The reality was he was scared of the god, scared of this feeling he gave him. Pan was flirting with danger, being with him, he was sure his heart couldn't take it. \n\nThe years together in bed, laughing, talking, it only hurt more to think about the what if. Cause there was none, there was no happy ending if he kept going. They both agreed to it, Pan had been warned by his friends this wasn't for him, yet he did it anyway. Not falling in love with his sex partners once but twice. He should have seen it coming from how painful one night stands were to him. Yet here Alastor was, in his nice suit smiling at him. \n\nHe licked his lip, removing the residue of the whiskey from his lips, \"Alastor...\" He started only to notice how he gazed at him, his eyes running down his body, he couldn't help but feel warm under his gaze, \"It's nice to see you as well, handsome.\" \n\nHe had to bring his eyes away from Alastor, as his drink arrived, he laughed gently, \"I'm here to perform tonight at one of the restaurants, I'm singing my new songs from my album.\" He says gently, \"What about you, you here to avenge someone of their money\" \n\nPan joked playful to the god of Justice and Retribution. His index finger tracing along the rim of the glass, as he lightly hummed. He couldn't face Alastor if he did, his heart might continue down a path even he couldn't bring it back from. He thought them being apart would help, but here he was desiring the other like always. Bad habits of a hopeless romantic." }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "*Handsome.* \nYes, that's what Alastor was. It never sounded quite as good when it came out of stranger's mouths, but Pan pronounced it and his name like a lullaby. Worse than a siren's song. \nHis possession of good looks had gotten him out of more than one situation, and *In* To plenty of other's. Not so much a curse, as it was a gift. \n\nPan, on the other hand, was striking. Even with his ghoulish opaque orb, Alastor felt as if he could sense so much more. It caused shadows to conceal his heart, the spark in his own eyes dulling gently. He tried to look bored, even if he was excited.\n\n**\"I would never forget your ambitious career. You have quite the talent for it. I haven't seen much talent to come close to what you can under the spot light.\"**\n\nAnother compliment, to soften the blow of a business topic that was bound to follow. \n\n**\"How much time do I have to have you for myself before your show begins? Depending on how pent up you are, I'll only need a moment.~\"** \nAlastor gave him one of those charming smiles, the kind where it looked like his canine's should have been more pronounced, like vampire fangs. \nIt was too easy to let the sexual tension build between them, and that should have clued the other God in to some of Alastor's wants. Though it was strategically hidden under the guise of flirting with other's. The God of curses liked to keep them guessing, even if he was being honest.\n\nWhether Alastor was tessing or serious about whisking Pan away right now was completely up to the Forest God. Words were wrapped up in gauzy tulle, lid secured with a ribbon. Alastor wondered if Pan would gamble. \nThey were in a casino after all.." }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "Pan looked at his glass and tapped it, before taking a sip of his drink, thinking on his words. His answer sat heavy on his tongue, he knew what he wanted but Pan was too much of a coward to take what was offered. He knew it wouldn't do them any good, toeing around the other, but wanting different things. Pan was sure that. \n\n\"The temptation\" He says, being playful as he turned to look at him, \"I'm always pent up Alastor~\" \n\nHe then quickly looked away, taking another sip of his whiskey, he placed the glass down and then reached out towards Alastor the back of his fingers grazed against his skin as he reached some stray hairs, he pushed it back and in place. \"But you know I don't do one night stands anymore, Sorry Alastor, your gonna have to find a new toy to play with\" \n\nHe winked at him with his blind eye, it hurt. Denying what he wanted, what they both wanted. His hand didn't move from where they rested on Alastors cheek. It was gentle, his eye ran down his face to his lips and features then his eyes again. \n\n\"Alastor\" He started, only to catch himself, and move his hand away placing it on his lap, \"You have me for an hour, then I have to perform...\" *I hope you will be there to watch me.* Was left unsaid, he couldn't bring himself to ask if he would watch him, already feeling like he toeing a line that was placed on the ground. \n\n\"So, what is it that you desire of me, Alastor, besides the obvious?\" He said playful and flirtatious, \"Last time you said you need a moment of my time, you took 2 hours of it\" He jokes." }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Alastor forced himself not to move, not to grab Pan's hand and press his lips to his knuckles. He hadn't flinched, and would will his head to stay still. Their gazes met. Albeit, despite the Retribution Gods' cool exterior, his eyes were warm with a crackling fire of want. Still, he feigned disinterest.\n\nHe'd managed to keep collected, and the moment faded as Pan dropped his hand away. Alastor let the silence linger between them, glittering with unsaid words. \nHe fingers slipped over the Forest God's glass, bringing it up to his lips for a sip. He was certain Pan wouldn't mind. They'd shared much more than drinks, and Alastor had a habit of helping himself.\n\n**\"Mm,\"** The heat of the whiskey went down smoothly. \n**\"I don't hear you complaining..~\"** \nAlastor teased, in return. \n\n**\"It's on every higher being's lips. Which side they've joined.\"** \nHe gave a mock sigh. \n**\"And Athena's roaster seems the most filled out. I've come to ask your angle. Why did you accept to fight on Athena's side?\"** \n\nOfcourse it wasn't about them, nor sex, but the war. Alastor wanted information on where Pan's true loyalties lie, and what he was fighting for. \nBlue hazel hues locked to the bar tender, tapping the table and ordering a brandy instead of a whiskey. With a cherry. \nIt was the only kind he would eat, and what better a snack than a boozy snack?" }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "He watched as Alastor stole his drink, the way his Adam's apple moved, he remembered when he used to bite right there during their time together, he had bitten a lot of spots on this man's body. Pan looked away, and laughed softly.\n\n\"Ah that work\" He says playful, and chuckles and shakes his head before smirking a bit as he watches him order his drink. He knew what Alastor wanted to know, \"I was one of the first people to join Athena, because she doesn't want war. I don't want war, war causes problems for everyone.\" \n\nHe sighs looking down at the counter and sighed, knocking his knuckles against the wood. \"My only goal is to protect the Demi gods and mortals, and keep my animals safe from the gods' stupidity.\" \n\nWhen Alastors drink arrived he stole the glass before the man could take it and take it into his lip, sipping it. Stealing what was stolen first, his leg crossed on the bar stool, the gold bracelet visible. Alastor knew the bracelet was the only reason Pan looked human right now. \n\n\"What about you Alastor, what's your reason to join our side\" He says leaning close to him, he held the brandy out to Alastor to take if he wanted it. His face closed to the other male. He needed to stop this, stop tempting himself, but Alastor was always worth those temptations. \"Why would the God of the underworld, wish to join our side\" His voice gentle, \"Risk the wrath of Hades\"" }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "The God couldn't even open his mouth to speak, or form any sort of reply when it came down to commenting on Pan's reason for wanting to end the war swiftly. \nAs his drink was stolen equally as swiftly, and he only watched as Pan's lips cupped the rim and took the liquid into his mouth, down his throat...\nSomething akin to hunger dilated Alastor's pupils, and his eyes caught sight of the tattoos along Pan's chest. \nThe moon called to him, stark in the center of the blackout that encompassed it. \nAlastor wanted to carve out some time to become reacquainted with the Forest God's body art, explore the new inked lines that decorated him. \nEvery atom in his body screamed to take Pan right there. To take his lips and hoist him him up, forcing his legs to wrap around his waist and vanish. He wanted to rip that pretty peep-show suit and ravish him.\nWarmth pooled in the pit of his stomach, and the impulse was nearly tipping the edge.\n\nIt had been awhile that Alastor had let himself sleep with another God... Or anyone for that matter. He was lucky to find a catch or two that weren't yet too drunk to be worth something. Didn't help the God of Retribution was entirely too picky. \n\n**\"I do not tempt Hades' hand,\"** He breathed, taking his glass back and licking over the rim where Pan's lips had been. He never broke eye contact. \nAlastor knew it would be so easy to give in, but he'd entice the hunt instead. \n\n**\"Hades has taken a neutral stance, and if he wanted me to stay neutral as well, he would have told me. However, this never came to fruition, and Persephone never came to stake her claim on me either for her ranks. With the others on the list, I don't doubt that her victory of ending the war will be swift. I don't much care for drama anyways..\"** \nAlastor shrugged. \n\n**\"However, the war talk has bored me. You've offered me something more enticing. Will you be free after your show, or much too tired?\"** \nThe question was more to make sure that Alastor wasn't going to wait for\n\nSomething that would never come. Even if he wanted to." }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "Pan bites his lips, watching him, his tongue then back at Alastors hungered gaze, his eyes never breaking away from him as he stares at him. His breath caught in his throat, his words trapped there, as he tried to speak, to tease play with fire some more. He shouldn't, he shouldn't accept. He'll fall even harder for the god if he does. \n\nPan's own gaze turned hungry, his eyes staring at him, as his body shimmered, his horns began to show itself to the other god, jingles of jewels and gold on his head. His heart was racing.\n\n \"Alastor...\" He started, only to snap his mouth shut, looking down to the ground. To the mortals around his form still looked human but to the god before him he began to change in his eyes as he struggled to maintain his illusion to the god. His goat hooves clicked against the bar stool. \n\nPan ears turned pointed, almost elf like, and twitched as he put his elbow on the counter, \"I... I'll probably be sweaty... If that's ok with you. I could shower for you.\" His goat tail wagging behind him, he had been thankful that no one else could see him like this, see him lose control. \n\nAlastor really did have that effect on him, he needs to tell Eros to lay off the arrows. He was sure it was that dicks fault, \"Just... One night\" He says, more to himself than to Alastor. He will give into him for one night, it won't kill him. \n\nHe slid off his stool, and leaned forward. Placing a gentle kiss on his lip at first, before licking that tempted lip with his tongue. \"Your mouth is sin like always Alastor, will get you in trouble,\" He says against his mouth, he didn't seem to care if fans spotted him like this." }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Pan's true form shifted for him, his will only so strong against the connection the two of them had. Alastor reveled in their game. \n\nThe God had to admit that Pan was gorgeous in his true form, his horns being his favorite for... Reasons one could assume. \nHis eyes darkened as the Forest God slipped closer, their lips meeting in a brief, yet electrifying kiss. Alastor hadn't closed his eyes for it, either. He wanted to see Pan, watch him, bore the heat of his gaze so far into him. \n\nThough the shadow of justice was silent, for if he spoke, he'd break every iota of collection he chained down in his core - to keep himself from pouncing. \nThe moment that Pan's tongue ran over his lips, Alastor finally was reeled from his stone still position, a hand caressing the space between Pan's jaw and neck. \nHe pressed his lips more fully to the other's, tasting the woody smoke of their respective liquors. Though, Pan always tasted like sunflowers smelled, and the mossy damp of the earth. It was intoxicating, and the closest that Alastor had ever felt to nature. \n\nHe'd never admit it, but it grounded him and silenced his mind. \n\nAlastor's other arm fell from it's place on the top of the bar, sliding down Pan's hips. His cupped palm crest an arch from one thigh, to the other man's groin, to the other thigh in a teasing promise. \nHe paid no mind to anyone else. They were not his focus.\n\nTheir lips had parted, but Alastor was still centimeters away, his hands pinning Pan in place for him. \n\n**\"Sweat is no bother, but rather the shimmer of your passion. I want you when you are tired after success. Let me treat you to a reward after all your hardwork, my wilderness.\"** \nAlastor seemed to whisper though his mouth never moved. It came from no where and everywhere simultaneously. It filled Pan's mind, wrapping inky tendrils around him as a taste of what Alastor had caged away for him, waiting far too long to be let out.\nHis hands were reluctantly removed, as logistics came to mind. He wa\n\nS already planning on how and where to whisk the other God away for just one more night. \n\n**\"I will stay to see your show, so give it your all for me, hm?\"**" }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "Pan was in his element once more, on stage center stage, performing for everyone. He loves music, loves the attention on himself when it happens, singing with fans who know the lyrics. The only time he feels loved, even if it's short lived for a moment. Moving to the beat of the song, swaying when the melody slowed. The mortals seeing his fake form, his mortal look, while Alastor could see past, see the illusion. \n\nOnce it was over, the high still going, he waved to his fans, thanking them for being here. He began to walk away backstage, as the next act hit the stage, Pan didn't even have a moment before he felt himself being pulled away. He was about to strike only to realize who it was, as their lips touched. \n\nHis eyes closed, then he felt weightless as the two of them fell through the shadows onto the bed. Pan's heart was racing, as he felt the plush bed on his back. His breath hitched as he reached out to the other god, and began pulling at his clothing then tearing his shirt apart. \"Oops, I'm sorry-\" He says against Alastor's lips, though there wasn't any remorse in his voice, holding that mischief tone he always had when they both are like this. \n\nHe leans forward taking Alastors lips on his own again, wanting a taste of him, he moved across his cheek kissing where ever his lips can reach. Wanting Alastor as his for just a night, he knew it will hurt the next day when he wakes alone again, but he couldn't care right now. \"Alastor\" He says softly in that needy voice, as he rubs up against the man. His body is hot with need, and lust. To be filled with this man's desire. \n\n```FTB TO BE CONTUINED```" }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Alastor was still, letting his mind catch up to what exactly just happened. He could hear breathing, his own. His skin, their skin, sticky and trying to melt together. \nThe after bliss was quickly turning too real. \nWhat had he said? \nHe hoped he hadn't said much, if nothing at all...\n\nThe God of Retribution pulled away, sitting up. The motion wasn't too quick, leaving Pan bare and empty. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyebrows, hunched over to let his elbows press into the tops of his thighs.\n\nThis wasn't an intimate moment. It couldn't be. \nYet his heart... It was breaking faster than he could wrap the cool calculated shadows of antisocial darkness around it to temper the crash. It felt similar to someone throwing a plate against a wall.\n\nIt was just another \"One more night.\" \nAnd Alastor slipped a perfect mask on, flawed in it's design, but a habit nonetheless, when he knew that he was letting someone too close.\n\n**\"Enjoyable as always,\"** Alastor looked over his shoulder. The metaphorical mask allowed him to give Pan a handsome smile. \nBut he needed answers, without giving too much away. \n\n**\"Are you seeing anyone else, Pan?\"** \nIt wasn't the direct question to what he wanted to know. \nWhat Alastor wanted to know was were Pan's boundary was. How many times would he let the God do this to him, break himself over and over, only to recieve nothing (seemingly) in return? \nAlastor looked Pan in the face, awaiting his answer. He wouldn't look away from him, and he'd give each of them that much respect and grace." }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "Pan felt him pull away, the moment gone, so quickly like before, and before that and before that-. There is no time where he hadn't wanted him by his side, lay with him till the night was over, hold him throughout the night. Praise him, love him, kiss him, say sweet nothings... But this was a game. This was something they played for such a long time. There were other players once upon a time, other people to help Pan dull that pain when Alastor left him at night cause Pan knew he could never have him. Pan came to understand that quickly. \n\nHe turned over onto his side, too much of a coward to look at Alastor, to face him as he leaves, it hurt the first time, it hurts now. Alastor doesn't know how cruel his words are to him, how it hurts to say he enjoyed it and leave not once staying and praising him in bed, holding him like a lover he always dreamed of Alastor being. Pan wasn't as quick to hide, to put on a happy mask he so many years have put on after. \n\nThe reason he gave up on this lifestyle, the hurt of being left alone in the morning, waking up in an empty bed. Pan wasn't made for this, as much as he pretends he is, he wasn't made for this type of loving, Pan falls too quickly and too hard at a sliver of affection. He remembered every name of every man and woman he ever slept with, but never chased after them because why, why chase them when they didn't love him. \n\nPan opened his mouth, he had partners, he had friends with benefits, Eros had been one and he was a fool. A few women not that long ago, men, he kept feeling empty and ended things before he felt too much. He wanted someone to love, yet he couldn't find it in them. The one person he wanted to love him doesn't even remember him fully, doesn't even know this first meeting, a mortal man now dead and raising a god. Pan dreamed that he wasn't a coward, wasn't a faithful fool and had chased him then, told him he loved him then... But maybe he would have killed him faster, Pan love was cursed after all.\n\n\"I had a few, but it ended\" He says finally, Pan curse always hurt Pan. Pan would be alone forever, never having that family he dreamed of with his wife. Never know what love returned would feel like, maybe if he wasn't a coward, a fool he could say the truth to Alastor. Tell him he loved him, Alastor chased him and died when Pan finally wanted to return it. \n\n\"What about you, any... Lucky ladies or men?\" He asked, trying to be strong, trying to have that pleasant conversation, as if it's not breaking him to know Alastor doesn't think of him, having others. What a hypocrite, Pan thought to himself, he hated when Alastor had lovers yet here he was having many long time ago. ~~only so he could forget him, Only so he could forget how good Alastor made him feel so many years trying to forget only to chase him still, and still too scared to confess~~" }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "The God watched as Pan rolled over, unable to face him. He was hurt, understandably. However, not being able to see his face didn't make this any easier. It felt like a sign to go. To be pushed away... When all Alastor wanted to was lay back down, and hold him. \n\nThat was unrealistic. \nIt was being obvious that the God of Justice... Was holding the scale with a constantly changing weight. \nFor every reason he had to hold Pan at arm's length were the same reason that he had to hold him tighter. \n\n*They were in a war, and Pan could be used as a bartering chip.* \nIt would all hurt the same. Would it hurt worse if he lost him and never told him the truth?\n\n*Had a few, but it ended..*\nHad Alastor asked this question before? A sense of dejá vu was encompassing his mind.\nIf only he knew what Pan couldn't forget: their love in a past life. \nIt was nearly written in the stars for them, but Alastor couldn't see it anymore.\n\n**\"No.\"** \nThe answer was as naked as he was at that moment, trying to clue Pan in on the fact that he couldn't without saying it. \nIt all boiled down to trust. \nIn a war, the people you thought you adored would sell you off just to get the upperhand. It was safe to say that Alastor's trust was under lock and key. \n\n**\"Just you.\"** \nHe finally spoke, after a moment of silence, after weighing once more his options:\nRun again, or face the consequences." }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "Pan didn't face him still, keeping his back to him even though everything in his body wants to turn around and hug the man, to hold him and swear loyalty to him, but he can't. Alastor had locked that up, he didn't trust him like that, at least he didn't think he did. Who would trust Pan, Pan was a fool, a fool who knows his own worth which wasn't much. Wasn't much to love. \n\n*\"Just you.\"*\n\nPan remained silent after his last part, quickly shut down, his head hurt his heart hurt. He wanted to cry so much after that, only Pan, the Wild God wanted to scream why did Alastor do this to him, break him so easily with his words. Why was Pan so stupid, why couldn't the other see how much he loved him, why was Pan a fool to this curse called love. He wished he wasn't a coward and found the Lethe river and drank from it, to dunk his head in the river screaming to forget everything that was Alastor and how beautiful he was when he smiles at him and says things so sweet it cuts his flesh. \n\n~~coward talk say something~~\n_ _\n\nPan couldn't say anything, he was scared to, like always scared his voice would give away to a sob, a tear ran down his cheek. Thanking the gods Alastor couldn't see as he faced away. Pan closed his eyes and tightened up, curling up to himself. \n\n\"I wouldn't have stopped you from finding others, you're a free man I won't chain you to me Alastor\" He finally broke his silence, words he wished wouldn't escape his lips. He wanted to chain Alastor to him, he wanted him to stay by his side. To cling to him like he was one with the gods' flesh, unable to leave him. Pan knew- believed that Alastor would leave him for his thoughts, his desire for Alastor. He tried to hide his pain and love behind others sex, and tried to find love elsewhere. He always feared the day Alastor would find a lover, Alastor would leave him behind so he ran away, hoping to find someone else who could love him. \n\nA search that came fruitless, Pan decided he was a lonely god now. Only animals to care and love, it won't be the same, but he can be content with that, he wants to be content with that." }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Only if Pan knew that his heart wasn't easy to obtain, that it was - in some way - chained to him. \nAlastor didn't know the extent of it himself. \n\nWhat kept other Gods from loving? \nWas there as much to fear he thought there was?\n\n**\"Sometimes I have dreams of running through a forest. Or running my hand in the ropes of Willlow trees, and I am at peace. The sun cascades through leaves, but I'm not alone. I have company, I can hear it in the way the forest floor moves, the crunch of twigs and acorns snapping. \nBut I can never turn around. \nI never seen anyone else. Not in the reflection of puddles or little pools in the marsh we walk in. \n*I* Walk in.\"** \n\nWhy was he saying this suddenly? Maybe to let Pan know that he trusted him. It was a dream he never told anyone else about, and talking without leaving like he had before had to mean something, right? \n\n**\"Do I get to choose who is there? In that little capsule of serenity?\"** \nThe questions were rhetorical. \n\n**\"Will you not stop me for my sake, or your's?\"** \n\nThe God of Retribution cut his air from escaping, tuning in to listen. But all he found was his heart again, too obviously in his chest." }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "Pan froze hearing his words, his confession, the dream. The dream that was reality, a memory, a memory that Pan thought was lost. Alastor had access to Arcadia, any time even now the walls of Arcadia was his to enter, the woods would accept him like it was pan or the other spirits. So hearing him dream of their willow tree, their pond that he still goes to every year on the day of Alastors death crying waiting for him to find. \n\nPan remembered the old days, chasing each other but not able to go far, yet here he asked him. If he could bring someone into his peace, what was there to stop, it was Alastor, it was Alastor's heart. He can't- he can't. He can't hear the rejection, his mouth open, almost escaping the words of love, the plea to not being anyone but him into Arcadia, to their spot. To love only him, to be chained to him, but he caught himself closing his mouth. \n\nHe can't answer this trick question, why would... He stop him, why would Pan keep Alastor from what he wants. That has always been Pan, giving everyone else what they wanted... Or what he thought they wanted. \n\n\"Never... I'll never stop you. The choice is yours\" Pan says in a small voice, \"The choice will always be yours... Bring whoever you want to that heaven you see in your dreams Alastor\" \n\nPan so blind by fear couldn't see, could stare at Alastor as he said those words. So scared of repeated rejection, loveless life. Pan couldn't stare at him as he spoke and couldn't face the god of Retribution. He cursed Himeros mentally, cursed the god for cursing his life of rejection, of unrequested love. Could Himeros leave him be, stop hurting him with Alastor bring him back in front of him to fall over and over again and feel pain. \n\n\"...\" He says in a small voice that couldn't be heard to the other gods. He hides his face away from him, biting his lip to keep from screaming, such an easy slip. He hated it. \n\n~~I'm yours. I'm always yours~~" }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Somehow that wasn't the answer Alastor wanted. He wasn't sure what he had expected when he so openly poured his secret out to the other God, but it seemed there was one. \nThe Forest God didn't hear the echo that called from a time before. It slipped through his fingers like the dreamscape, and Alastor realized he was staring at his hands. He had went elsewhere for a moment. A respite, retreating into himself to stare into that wretched mirror that he saw nothing in. \nNothing but a void. \n\nNow back in the present, he let Pan's answer weigh on his mind, let it soothe him. \nExpectations were a curse in and of themselves. To place such an expectation to Pan would not do him any honor, so he rid himself of it, reading between the lines. The true meaning of what it meant to be unshackled, yet still sacrifice one's self for.\n\nStanding, Alastor pulled on what little of his clothes there was left - his pants that hadn't been shredded, and shoes and socks.\nHe pushed a hand through his hair, staring at the shadows as the beckoned him to fast travel home. \n\nHe didn't hear Pan, but his skin rippled in a sudden chill. \nWith the solid conviction that he understood the other God's mercy, he spoke.\n\n**\"Thank you for letting me choose.\"**\n\nAnd he was stepping into the shadows, disappearing in their inky caress." }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "Pan didn't know what to expect, he heard him leave, thank him for giving him a choice, a choice he knew he would never be the answer to. Pan hated himself, Pan hated how much it hurt. \"I love you please don't leave me alone\" He begged to no one, as the god he begs to is gone, into the shadows to his home. Just like Pan was, he was in their grove under that willow tree Alastor saw in his dream, their meeting place, their heaven to run away from kings and gods. Now it's his solace, his place of prayer. \n\nPan's body shook as tears began to fall, the god let them fall, every time he did this, cry. Sex, it was sex, that's all they were. That's all the people he met were, he didn't have a One like others. He wouldn't have a wife or husband that loved him, being married to him was a curse... A punishment. Pan worked hard on being accepted within the Nymphs and Satyrs community. He wasn't accepted anywhere, not even the gods had welcomed him as a child, mocking him. \n\n\"I love you, I love you, I'm sorry for loving you\" He says in a small voice, \"I'm sorry I'm not enough, I'm sorry for never telling you back then when we had a chance... I'm sorry for being such a loyal fool for someone who was cursed to marry me.\"\n\n_ _\nThe woods were silent, no one around to hear the god plead to no one, beg for forgiveness like he does every time. Reminding himself he asked for this, he wanted this love. This single moment to feel some sort of love. He fell for every woman and man who fell in his arm only for it to end quickly, hoping to help scrub the large love he felt for Alastor. Yet the one feeling remained no matter how many people he fucked and loved. \n\n\"If there is one thing I want, It's him, I won't ask for sons, I won't ask for daughters. Give me him please.\" He begged the shadows as he curled up tighter alone in the trunk of the willow tree, his knees to his chest and his face covered with his arms, alone in the forest of Arcadia. He felt small again, why did he do this again, he keeps breaking. \"Why won't any you fucking gods answer my prayers. Give him to me, please, make him say he loves me, only me. I beg you, never let him bring another to our place, I lied to him I don't want him to bring someone to our heaven, never let him step foot in our groves with another. Let me cry in peace\" \n\n\"Alastor please... Love me, Please I beg you, Love me only me.\" He begs out loud words he never said to the god in his arms, all the tears and sobs echoing the woods as it crumbled. Arcadia held a somber tone as Its god cried, calling for its lover, who was dead and had forgotten him. The forest knew what Pan desired, what his heart held, the forest the mountain held sorrow for the god as it cried in his home." }, { "author": "punkaxe", "message": "``` end scene. And rip my heart out of my chest ```" } ]

[ { "author": "Athena >> badass in the arena", "message": "In the depths of Hades Abyss, where shadows clung to the unseen corners and the weight of the Underworld pressed with a cloak that smothered her light, Athena ventured with purpose. The divine echoes of her armored footsteps reverberated through the subterranean passages as she sought Erebus, the primordial god of darkness, to discuss the salvation of the mortal realm as they knew it. She had foreseen his willingness to speak, foreseen the remnant pieces of a possible alliance forged and so she decided the chance was worth walking within Hades' realms.\n\nThe twisting labyrinth of the Abyss seemed to stretch infinitely, but Athena, guided by her strategic intellect, pressed forward. The air bore a heavy stillness, interrupted only by the distant murmurings of shades and the occasional flicker of ghostly light dancing around her. The far off twinkling and scent of floral from Persephone's garden, the only familiarity of home and life.\n\nUpon reaching a cavernous expanse where shadows seemed to converge, Athena spoke with a tone both firm and resolute. \"Erebus, I have seen your entry upon this realm, my visions do not lie. I wish to speak. The mortal realm is at a crossroads, and our intervention is needed now more than ever...\"\n_ _\n\nFrom the ebon depths there was only silence, from where Athena had seen his form obscured by the very shadows that enveloped him within her visions, there was nothing. Her feet tapping impatiently against the grounds she so hated to walk. Death did not persuade itself from her visions and it was everywhere here. Every corner, looking to haunt her. Every suffocating sight and sound of screams threatening to drag her below.\n\nAthena, undeterred by the pervasive darkness, explained the urgency of their meeting within the unanswering depths. \"We must find a way to guide our brethren, our kin, toward progress without sacrificing the natural order of the mortal realms. Erebus, together we can instill a sense of balance. Let shadows and wisdom coalesce for the greater good... You have remained silent for years within your shadows but I have seen it.\" Silence still met her, her words swallowed whole by the abyss. \"I have seen it, damn it!\" A rare moment of unfiltered anger merged forth as she pulled her hood further around her hidden features. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Erebus", "message": "Of all the Gods to demand a theatre with him, he hadn't suspected the Goddess of Wisdom herself to emerge down into their dark plains. It was like that take all over again: an Olympian girl wanders into the underworld in search of something, yet this time Hades wouldn't be as gentle... And this Olympian was not lost. No, she strove into these plains with a purpose, with someone she desired to see- no, *Demanded* To see. Erebus.\n\nFrom the depths where No bottom could be seen, the rumbling darkness seemed to twist and coil ever slowly, even reaching a stopping point upon Athena's first words. Then, like nothing had just occurred, it began to shift and manoeuvre without grace, without interruption. The eerie silence only seemed to bolster her resolve, however. There is so much you can discover about someone's intentions by simply not fulfilling them, to remain silent and to let them feel they are falling upon deaf ears.\n\nWhile that would've been somewhat entertaining, the Personification of Darkness didn't have the time nor care to see how far he could push Athena's buttons. From the cavernous depths below, the Goddess could make out a form beginning to approach, even through the thick ebon that filled the pit. Something was approaching her, something ascending with haste. Maybe her anger offended Erebus, maybe it was a play on the eyes, then again when has be ever been one to play tricks? No, whatever was coming. Athena could only anticipate, until...\n\nFrom the depths, something pierced through the dark void. Something fast, small, and... Golden? Athena only saw it for but a second, yet she could see the brief trail of seemingly golden celestial sparkles lead her to whatever had just emerged. If she were to follow the trail, her destination would be a thinly dying tree that hung over the Goddess, the branch that extended out to be closest to the Deity of Wisdom now occupied by a single bird. A single, black bird.\n\nIt's features didn't lend itself to any family nor type. It seemed to resemble an owl in one spot, yet a raven in another. Soon enough, shapes of a crow would appear, then a sparrow. Suddenly, the details of an owl would replace with those of a hawk, a breast. Whatever shifting form it had, there was only two certainties: the golden tips of its wings that sprinkled across each feather like a star in the night, and the fact the Bird was watching Athena now, it's head tilting side to side as it studied her. An odd bird, but then again, Athena was the stranger between the two.\n\nIt's eyes shined like obsidian pearls. If one were to look hard enough and you could see yourself from them, or perhaps notice the figure standing just behind Athena now. The head of the flying one would quickly shoot up, letting out a few caws as it looked over Athena, towards the familiar figure. \"Impressive words. How long did you sit in your chambers coming up with them?\" The cold voice would ask from behind the Deity. The personified darkness, creator of the underworld, master of the void and all lost within... And he cracked a joke. Secluded away for so long, and the first time Athena could properly see him without being surrounded by misty shadows was when he lightly mocked her speech for an audience. \"Or have you *Seen* Just what to say?\"" }, { "author": ".gabxxxxx", "message": "【 • [**Athena**](< • 】\n\nAthena couldn't help but watch the ever shifting bird, the golden tips of its wings remained and that was its only saving grace because had it changed and molded into different forms continually she would have assumed it was just another creature in the midst. Another form of a creature that lingered in the darkness. Another form, like Erebus, would hang around waiting for the light to hit it just so in order for its audience to gasp. Athena did not gasp, she did not worry, she just watched, making internalized bets about what bird it might turn into next. She had to say, she was privy to the owl. It was the prettiest of them all. \n\nThe darkness that surrounded her, it was threatening, it was off putting, but as the ageless Goddess knew, it was exactly as the Underworld should have been. She knew if Persephone could exist in this place, most anyone could. A slight light that could shine, like the rays of sun between the clouds, she imagined Persephone's aura roaming through the darkened halls. One thing that did slightly stress Athena out was that she had come to this place without telling a soul where she was going. Maybe not the most calculated plan for such a calculating individual, but she knew that if she had told anyone it could have erupted into something much more cataclysmic. \n\nHer followers, petrified of their leader going to the Underworld. Her siblings, probably telling Zeus that his favorite daughter was going to go trekking into the only place in their realm that she hadn't ever truly trekked before. Even if she had told anyone where she was going or who she was planning on going to see, some might have not believed her. For, who in their right *Mind*, would go to see Erebus? Was it worth their time? Was it worth the possibility of getting sucked into the Underworld and never finding one's way out? \n\nYes, in her mind, it was. \n\nSo, she stood, and as the bird stared directly into her eyes, she did, in fact, notice the figure that was emerging from the black smog that surrounded her, \"**Hello, Erebus.**\" Ignoring his comment of her *Chambers*, she had said this as a response before turning to face the darkness that loomed, \"**I would say that given the response to the disruptions witnessed... In some ways, I have *Seen* What to say.**\" \n\nPulling her hood back, she took a slight step forward, unafraid of him. Sure, he was the God of pure darkness, but he wasn't threatening *Her*. She felt as if there might have been some type of fun in poking around, prodding at the Goddess that came from above the Earth's crust, instead of one that lived below it. If she had been a god that could manifest things in the way he did, she would have done the same. Taking her hand, holding it up slightly to the side of her face, she flicked on a small flame that danced in her palm. Finally, she could see Erebus a bit better, and she gave him a small, but somewhat mischievous, smile, \"**Are we going to be able to talk without the fake niceties at some point? I do have plenty of work to be doing, you're just a portion of my plan.**\"" }, { "author": "Erebus", "message": "Erebus squinted his eyes at the Mistress of Wisdom. She had a lot of bold words to say when this visit was unsanctioned. She was technically violating may codes by simply being in the Underworld, what with the entire war between Zeus and Poseidon, as well as the neutrality of the Underworld that Hades as established. It seemed this portion of her plan was one of the more dangerous aspects, if there even was a safe part of it anyway. Then again, when has Athena ever played it safe?\n\nSuddenly, Athena would see a shape flash right by the side of her head, straight through her palm that held the dancing flame. In one fell swoop, the flame would be washed out and vanish, the small bird that Athena had admired a moment ago now easing it's flight by a nearby tree to Erebus' side. Nexus, the small creature, would caw slightly and bear it's wings, flapping them a tad before closing itself. No fires it seemed, Nexus didn't like them. Of course, Erebus wasn't going to correct nor tell off his companion. He was just about to snuff out the fire until he saw Nexus prepare to take flight and do it Themselves.\n\n\"Your plan to be what? Obviously something out of desperation if you came down here for *My* Help.\" Erebus announced. Shifting his shoulder a tad to adjust for the large cloak he wore. He only wore the piece when he ventured out of his darkness, so it essentially felt unnatural to him whenever he did step out. Begin to circle the spot where Athena stood, he didn't look to her as he continued on, yet Nexus' beady little eyes stayed locked on the Goddess and marked her every move carefully.\n\n\"Stop this war? Funny, I was intending on doing that myself. Seems we do have something that align, *For once.*\" Erebus added, although it was very easy to assume he preferred to do things his own way instead of being a small part of an otherwise grander plan. He also knew that Athena's countless ages of planning and strategizing sometimes left some ends... Well, loose." }, { "author": ".gabxxxxx", "message": "【 • [**Athena**](< • 】\n\nThe bird came through her flame in her palm, the small bit of light that had lit the area around her was quickly diminished. \"**Fair enough, birdie.**\" She said, looking at the bird that obviously had an affinity for darkness as much as its master. It was somewhat admirable, for having a sentient bird that had likes and dislikes, also an otherworldly creature, she wished she had her favorite owl with her at that moment. Perhaps the two could have been friends. \n\n*A nice tactic, there my otherworldly friend,* She thought, as he started circling her, and she couldn't help but let out a slight breathy laugh. Athena found Erebus' movements quite interesting, circling her, looming over her in ways, his bird also watching her. Athena had been circled before, a general, a warrior, a terrorist, any number of beings had tried to intimidate her as she stood, still as a statue, thinking of two key things. \n\n1. How to get out of the situation, because anyone with a threatening stance over her would immediately need to either be neutralized or she would need to find a way to escape. \n\nWhere were the exists? Where was her closest possible weapon? What could she do, create an immense fire, to push the threat back? All of these things were viable options, except the exit. She had followed the damn bird out to the small garden area, but she knew not how to escape this place. \n\n2. How she could turn the threat around so the individual would see her point of view, or possibly bring their tone down a bit. \n\nThis was part of her larger plan. She needed to find out more information from Erebus in order to get him to see his ability to work with her. Most of what she wanted was support, maybe some chaos, maybe she needed some darkness in her life.\n\nAthena had turned to look at Erebus as he passed behind her, squinting her eyes at him, \"**No, I never said I wanted to *Stop* The war.**\" Finding it somewhat comical that he had immediately decided she wanted to *Stop* Anything from occurring, she shook her head, \"**No, no. I want to remain neutral, in this incessant annoyance, though I do want to save some poor unfortunate souls that might need it.**\" Now, she was very intelligent, and she knew that Erebus was not in the business of saving souls, so, she looked over at him, \"**I want you to come to the surface world, help me to put darkness over some of the holding cells I have for mortals and demi-gods that I am looking to keep safe.**\" \n\nShe wasn't in the world of making someone guess all about her plans, instead, she would reveal a little bit of what she wanted, keeping her other cards very close to her chest. Then, she would turn around and give a little bit back to the individual she needed, \"**I was, also, thinking that you might have some fun up there. The nightlife is quite... Fun.**\" He had continued walking and was now behind her, and she rolled her eyes, not knowing him at all, she didn't know how to entice him... She made herself cringe, \"**The mortals don't know much about true darkness, Erebus. You might enjoy giving them a show.**\"" }, { "author": "Erebus", "message": "While Athena's thoughts were in the right place, she was really in no position to be making getaway plans. Did she forget who Erebus was? Everything she walked on, the smouldering air she was currently breathing, and the landscape she was trying to adjust her eyes to was all his. All of him. If Erebus wanted to find someone within the Underworld, it was a matter of when he would reach them rather than if he could find them. You don't escape someone who lived in the shadows, because if you couldn't hide in the dark... Then where *Do* You hide?\n\nStopping in his tracks, Erebus snapped his head around to glare at Athena now. What did she say that seem to spark his sudden stop? Was it the comments on the nightlife being fun? Giving mortal a show? Or the audacity to protect mortals? Neither and none, in fact. What made Erebus' sudden shift in tone was Athena informing him that she wanted to remain neutral save for protecting a select few groups of people. Neutral? It seemed the rumours from the Underworld were yet to grace Olympian ears, as Erebus was reported to be leaving the Underworld for *Being* Neutral. He wasn't about to align himself with the side that would sit idly by as the Gods tore apart the balance for their selfish reasons.\n\n\"And why would I want to do any of that?\" Erebus would ask her. He left a brief space for her to conclude an answer for herself. He was a Primordial, he had seen the very Realms be plotted, planned and built before his very eyes. He wasn't going to let the Godly squabbles above threaten all him and his fellow Primordials had set out to build together. \"Why would I go up to protect mortals and 'entertain' myself when I plan to end this war.\" He added finally.\n\n\"I had assumed Hades two self-focused to do pick sides, but to see someone of your supposed stature to remain on the side?\" Erebus shook his head as he seemed to force up a soft chuckle. He didn't think highly of the Olympians, but any he did have high regards for? They all seemed to crumble and settle back down alongside their siblings and children." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "The underworld bazaar is a bustling marketplace where both mortal and supernatural beings gather. Vendors offer exotic goods, mystical artifacts, and ethereal souvenirs. The market is a crossroads of the living and the dead, with stalls themed around various realms of the underworld, making it a one of a kind shopping experience." }, { "author": "vodrux", "message": "***The room was dimly lit, the dull glow of the solitary electric lamp casting a sickly, yellowish glare upon the dirty walls as it burned and buzzed like a degenerate sun. The walls were thick and made of concrete, layered with further materials that rendered them nearly completely soundproof. The entrance into the chamber, being a solitary hatch from which a rusty iron ladder offered access down into the area. The lack of windows and other openings save for the hatch, and the innumerable moisture stains that lined the edges of the walls and the ceiling gave one the distinct impression that whatever this place was, it was under the ground beneath wet mud. Beneath the glare of the lamp, two figures were visible huddled up against a section of the wall at the far end from the ladder and the hatch. There they lay, stretched out across the ground with their hands in shackles attached to the wall. Their chains, while firm and unyielding, nevertheless looked rusty and ill-maintained, much like the rest of this forgotten hole in the ground. In a manner that strangely befitted this ill-omened environment, the figures' states were revealed as they stirred in the blackest depths of their sleep and their bodies shifted into the feeble rays of the light. Two women, one slightly older than the other. Both appeared to be in their late twenties or early thirties. They wore full-body covering clothes in different styles and colours, but cut from similar fabrics. Shirts made from a rough and sturdy synthetic material and denim jeans. The hefty boots upon their feet completed the impression that they had come to the area on some kind of venture that was pursued outdoors. Perhaps a hiking trip. Perhaps a fishing expedition. Irrespective of the specifics of their plans, one could almost immediately see that things had gone horribly wrong.***\n\n***The women's clothes were torn and bloodied in multiple places, the exposed portions of their skin upon their hands and their faces were bruised and sported numerous cuts. Their blonde hair was matted with congealed blood, and one had a blackened eye and the other, a cut lip. The two women began to open their eyes, as their heart rates rose rapidly, and their breathing quickened. They glanced at one another, felt the shackles upon their wrists, looked around the room, and they began to panic. The tears fell uncontrollably from their eyes as they conversed with one another in hushed whispers, and they struggled to free themselves from their binds, even as their efforts only served to push their shoulders further towards dislocation. But it was a sound that caused their hearts to stop and their blood to chill. They glanced towards the ladder and the hatch with wide-eyed terror, as a mournful, creaking sound rent through the chamber and the lock holding the hatch in place began to turn. The maw of the hatch sung open, and a heavy set of steps began to descend the creaking ladder, closing the hatch shut in the process. The weighty, lumbering, beast of a man reached the bottom of the ladder and looked around, before drawing in a deep breath, while his prisoners broke down into hysterics upon seeing him and what he had slung across his back. He had stalked them for days now, while the two sisters had gone about their planned vacation. He had observed them from the bushes while they had fished by the river. He had followed them from a distance while they had watched birds, taking turns with the binoculars. He had bided his time as they had put up tents and eaten their meals, and when noontide gave way to darkness, his opportunity came when they turned in for the night. He had forced his way into their tents and subdued them both with force. He had bound them, drugged them, and then dragged them away to his lair like so many prior victims whose bones now bleached in the sun. And for two days now, he had kept them unfed, unwatered and in a state of perpetual mental siege.***\n\n***There was something quite repulsively extraordinary about this brute. A man with no notable skills or contributions to society. A man who amounted to nothing. A man who never lived, save for in those fleeting moments of passion when he tortured and killed a hapless victim. He had worked on these two sisters for forty and eight hours now, beating them, cutting them small blades, doing his best to turn one against the other, and yet their bond had remained unbroken. Regardless of what abuse he piled upon them, they remained steadfast and resolute in their defense of one another, their support for each other in their blackest moments, and in refusing to give up hope. This irritated the brute far more than anything else had, and today, he was willing to take drastic measures. From his back, he unslung an axe, the sharp blade gleaming in the light and the mahogany handle well-polished. Unlike the shackles, the beast had clearly taken great care of this tool. The two women began to scream and struggle against their binds as their captor approached with his weapon, and the brute began to breathe heavily as the sounds rent the air. Which one would he hack apart first? As he pondered this conundrum, another entity observed the proceedings. An entity far older and more powerful than one could imagine. The entity watched with amusement as his puppet approached the two women with the axe, relishing in the terror they felt. He had bathed in their paranoia, as they felt something hunt them during the day. He lapped up their horror as their sleeping quarters were violated by the deranged killer in the middle of the night. He reveled in their misery and their despair, as the brute tortured them non-stop for two days, and now the entity could feel the whole affair approaching its climax.*** The younger one. ***He whispered. The eldritch whisper transfigured itself as it passed through time and space, and it manifested as a thought; an inexorably driving directive within the brute's mind. What a delicious feast it would be, to savour the helplessness of the older sister who fancied herself a protector of her younger sibling! He would enjoy her agonized despair as she watched her blood suffer, and he felt his excitement spike as his obedient puppet moved towards his chosen victim. And then, his excitement turned into bitter fury.***\n\n***The brute lost control at the first taste of blood in the air. The axe swung down upon the woman's thigh, cleaving a deep gash and splattering the man with her lifeblood, as her screams echoed around the chamber. The sensation drove the brute insane, and instead of giving his master the delicious and drawn out torment he craved, the incompetent wretch went into a frenzy. The axe swung down again, and again, and again, each wet \"Thud\" Cleaving his victim apart till she stopped screaming altogether and only her sister's screams were audible. And then, Deimos heard it and felt it simultaneously. The older woman's mind crumpled under the strain of fear, while the prayers fell from her lips. \"Lord of Terror, I submit to you, grant me vengeance. Lord of Terror, I submit to you, deliver me from danger.\" The mantra, repeating over and over again as it fell upon his ears, and Deimos smiled upon the woman. The rusted shackles, already spent from being used so many times, gave away at a hefty pull from the woman, and she left to her feet with her arms now freed. With terror and adrenaline fuelling her, she dashed at the unworthy brute. Under normal circumstances, she would have been overpowered by the hulking fiend, and yet as with the shackles, there seemed to be an otherworldly force intervening. As the brute turned to face the threat with his axe raised, he slipped upon his victim's blood. Dropping his weapon in the process, he fell. And before he could rise, she was upon him. She retrieved the bloodied axe before bringing it down upon the brute's masked face repeatedly. Now, it was an entirely different kind of fear that Deimos feasted upon. The fear felt by the oppressor, when those they oppress rise up against them, and tear them down. It was one of the sweetest forms of horror that he could taste, and he savoured every bite. The blade cleaved through plastic, skin, bone and sinew in unison, as an entirely different set of screams rent the air and the fiend's powerful body began to twitch and go limp. Soon, he stopped moving entirely. The Lord of Terror watched the whole affair with an impassioned gaze, and he did nothing to stop the woman from climbing the ladder, opening the hatch and making her escape after she had finished mauling her oppressor. After all, she had proven worthy of life by acting admirably to save herself.***\n\n***As he ascended back above the ground from the chamber, the Lord of Terror sensed a familiar sensation upon the wind, and he smiled unseen to mortal eyes. An old friend from the past was nearby, and she had gone astray. It was time to bring the wayward piece of cattle back into the pasture, away from the clutches of the rival shepherd. And so he moved towards her, his will indomitable and terrible, his countenance abhorrent to the eyes. He had broken her before. He would do so once more until she knelt before him.***\n\n***Through the confines of the mortal realms, he travelled, until he returned to the familiar folds of Olympian. Here, he descended beneath the depths of the ground, making his way towards the domain of Hades. The abyssal district shimmered and sparkled in the darkness with a ghastly quality to it, and Deimos breathed in its essence, feeling rejuvenated. The trail was hot and he could feel himself closing in. Through the winding alleys and canals of the district, he moved towards the bazaar, casting a pall of tension in the air as he moved. He was formless for now, while he travelled, but he knew his presence could be felt. Most certainly, she would feel it keenly. His wayward champion. His favourite toy. He had come, for Amara.***" }, { "author": "Amara ", "message": "▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂\n\nIt had only been a fortnight since Amara had let someone other than *Him* Touch her in the throes of passion. Since she had promised herself to Morpheus. His. She had stated that she belonged to her Prince of Dreams, and almost instantly she felt the pull. The leash around her throat grew tighter in response. Pulled and yanked and tested her every whim as it launched her deep into the abyss of memories. He knew, and he did not hide how he felt. Though he had cast her aside like a toy he had grown bored of, it seemed Deimos had never fully let go of the link between them as his champion. So silent he had been when she requested his power. Unresponsive and neglectful as it grew more chaotic in the moments of heartbreak. Had he watched? Had he delighted in the turmoil he had cast his pet within. \n\nHer hatred only grew at the thought that he dared treat her like she was nothing. A mere speck in his existence. The irony, that she held such contempt for her father and the other Gods among Olympus, and yet Amara had knelt to the God of Fear so easily. The promise of power beyond her imagining, far too enticing for the elusive beauty to say no. She did not know the price it would come with then. The tainted darkness that would forever stain her soul. He was a part of her, one that she could not rid herself of, and she could almost feel his delight in it. \n\n_ _\n\n*\"Miss?\"* The store owner beckoned to Amara, lost in her thoughts, her hand carefully wrapping around her arm but it would be to her own detriment. The waking nightmares were stronger than they had been in quite some time. Amara jumped within the physical touch and cast them both deep within the shadows before either had the chance to escape. Screams surrounded them and it seemed they were within her past. Knelt before the ground, staring at the lifeless body of the mother gone too soon.\n\n\"No.\" She stated softly, as the nightmare reminded her of who she had been before Deimos. Once happy, naive, loved by a mother who held a beauty and magnetic smile like no other mortal. No one within the town could walk by her without being drawn to her very nature, perhaps that was why her father had to have her. To seduce her so that Amara was born into a world she grew to despise. It was what made them drawn to her. Those that lurked the shadows and hid behind them, those ignored by the Gods to play their games of cruelty. Humans. Ones that showed the world could be cruel in all forms of life. \n\n_ _\n\nHer mother had denied them of her house, the small savings they had managed to collect, her body, and it had been the beginning to her end. Amara was helpless to watch on with little power. Her father's name screamed to the skies for no answer. Zeus' name screamed to the skies with silence being the only thing heard in response. Persephone, the goddess, who claimed to heal and love mortals, protected them even. None of them showed as Amara kneeled in her own mother's blood. None of them showed as it soaked in and the night came, leaving her shivering but refusing to move. Afraid that she may miss a sign, any sign if she did. \n\nThat was when he came from the depths of her darkest fears. His eyes, a deep abyss of temptations and mystery. His voice, a lull of the most serene song. Deimos, god of fear, promised her the world if she simply took his hand. But with every promise came a price. She had traded her innocence for power, her purity for darkness, and now she stood in the evidence of her undoing. *\"M-Miss?\"* The woman looked on with pupils dilated and her body shaking in freight to her own walking terrors that surrounded her and Amara quickly dissipated the smoke. Clearing them both of the living hell they had relived. \n\n_ _\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" Amara whispered in defeat as the woman ran as quickly as her feet would take her away from the woman so easily left by everyone she had ever known. \"Fuck!\" Her fist went into the building near her, leaving a decent sized dent in the marbled piece behind, her knuckles red and bleeding as she pulled them back to her chest. Already she had broken her promise to Morpheus. Already Deimos threatened to plunge her back into the darkest corners of herself. \n\nShe could feel his presence approach her now as if she had called him within her darkest moments. The smothering fear and anxiety that made her want to gasp for air. \"Not now, Deimos.\" She spoke through clenched teeth as she leaned against the cool relief of the uncracked portion of marble. \"You are not welcome here.\" \n\n▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂\n𝙋𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎:" }, { "author": "vodrux", "message": "***The temperature in that section of the bazaar plummeted and the light dimmed. A shiver was in the air, and every breath shed seemed to partially crystallized and fly forth, smoky and steamy. The colours, vibrancies and sounds of the world faded away, until every living soul within that corridor of commerce seemed to have the company of naught but their own thoughts. There was nothing keeping the people rooted to where they stood or sat, and yet Amara would surely have known better. He came and he brought the night with him. Formless, ephemeral, intangible, and yet very real. Like darkness made solid, and domination made fluid. The Lord of Terror and Master of Dread circled in on Amara, a formless and invisible miasma upon the wind to mortal eyes, and yet she perceived him all to clearly. She would see the denizens of the shop she had just emerged from, step out of the structure in a state of hysteria, their movements erratic and frantic until one by one, each of them dropped to the ground and curled up in a fetal position. The God's passage through the corridor was thus demarcated by a line of catatonic mortals who had been cast into a prison shaped from their own minds, with but a single, contemptuous glance from the entity. Its attention however, was affixed upon Amara in totality, and only an active and relentless effort on her part would have kept her from sinking onto her knees with her head clutched between her hands. Before other, lesser beings, Deimos would have taken on the form of their fears and the stuff of their nightmares, but with Amara? Things were always different with Amara. The miasma began to pool on the ground before her, not too far away from the corner she was crouched in, and it gradually began to take form. Coil, upon powerful coil of oily, black ectoplasm spun itself into a form that would be recognizable to mortal eyes, and before long Amara made out the form of a man. Tall, lanky and immaculately dressed in a black tuxedo compete with a carefully tied, white bow-tie, the man would not have looked out of place at an aristocratic soirée held in the early twentieth century.***\n\n***Dark brown hair that seemed to recede to black, a tanned yet pale skin, and a genial smile that stood at a height that somehow seemed to match hers and yet tower over her simultaneously. This was the form in which he had spent countless nights, caressing her form in his arms, claiming every inch of her body and soul. It was the form in which he had raised her up and broken her down. The Dread Lord did not need to take on a guise for her, because he was a part of her and he knew her as intimately as one who had looked inside her soul and liked what he had seen within, devouring it voraciously in the process. It was the man's eyes that gave one pause as one glanced into them. Twin orbs of white with dark brown irises, and the pupils seemed to be bottomless pits that were every ready to swallow the viewer up. Carefully dusting a fleck of dirt off his jacket, Deimos walked towards Amara, his movements carefully measured, his face unreadable. He could taste the anxiety and the apprehension that radiated off her body, and he inhaled deeply, taking in the fragrance. There was something about this woman that he found irresistible. Something that he had not seen in the countless eons of his existence. He could hardly recall what had compelled him to discard her, or even if it had been a discarding, for to a God, a fortnight did not even register on the scale of a microsecond. All he knew was that he had cast his gaze and attention away from his possession for one moment, and in that time another had come forth and picked up his toy. And he was angry. Very, very, angry. The anger radiated from his core and assailed Amara's senses, as he drew close enough to look into her eyes, hear her frantic breathing, watch the rapid rise and fall of her chest.***\n\n***He reached out with his hand and took hold of her chin, raising her face up so he could look into her eyes better. His touch, having the mingled sensation of fire and ice, which had driven her mad on so many occasions.*** It is good to see you, my darling. ***He said in his gravelly voice that echoed with the sounds of screams, and shattering glass.*** I have missed your presence by my side. Though it seems that the sentiment has not been reciprocated, hmm? ***The King of Fear smiled, and his smile held the promise of horrors unimaginable.*** They say you now lay with the vile spawn of Somnus. Tell me, does he comfort you? Sing you to sleep? Reassure you that he will withhold his mummer's farces that he calls nightmares, while you take your repose? ***He grinned fully, revealing his shiny white teeth to her.*** Does he tell you that your Mother's death was not your fault? I suppose, you have an explanation for me. Of what drove you to stray into his effeminate arms. I am...***His hand slid down from her chin towards her throat.*** Gagging, to hear it." }, { "author": "Amara ", "message": "*Please.*\n\nHer body shook, her mind screaming as she felt the overwhelming sense of dread smother the area around them. Like a smoke in a burning flame of a building with no escape, there was never an escape with him. Only darkness. His darkness. The sound of his footsteps approaching, ignoring her request with a confident stride. \n\nThumb to chin, it could be considered a lover's touch if she did not know the man on the other side of it well enough by now. Her eyes darkening with a flame of violent anger that consumed her so easily these days. \"Deimos.\" She growled in warning, attempting to bring her chin from his grasp. Yet it wasn't so easy, it had never been easy to run from him. Only entertainment that left her snared once more. \n\n*\"It is good to see you, my darling.\"*\n_ _\n\nShivers were sent across her spine as she was reminded of the years she spent below that touch. So easily she had become his willing pet, so easily she had broken around him. His pretty little bird with eyes of cerulean blue in a gilded cage. \"I called for you.\" Her voice cracked with the false confidence she exuded. Her defiance clearly warn as a mask, a wall built up to keep him out in her promise to herself. \"Night after night I called for you and nothing... You Gods are all alike.\" \n\nThe hatred was written across her features now, the reminder of that night fresh upon her mind as the nightmare stung within her thoughts like a freshly cracked whip. \n\n*\"Does he tell you that your Mother's death was not your fault?\"*\n\nThere it was. The first weapon against her and how he succeeded in ramming against her walls and cracking the stone. Every word he spoke was like a dagger to her soul, reopening wounds she thought had long since healed. Her lips flinching into a millisecond of a frown. \"Don't you dare. Don't you fucking dare bring her into this.\" Her hand raised as if to slap him across the face in his firm grasp upon her but paused as if she thought better of it. The reminder of his hold on her running through her veins. She had handed herself to him, her very soul, and Deimos knew it. He knew the leash he held within his hands. \n\nInstead she attempted to bite, a smirk of her own crossing her lips as her fingers twisted around the wrist that grasped her. Her mind rampaging through the nights spent with Morpheus. His name upon her lips again and again. \"I thought champions were connected to their Gods.\" Her voice was a purr despite the anxiety that consumed her. \"Why ask, when we both know you have *Felt* What I have.\" She let a particularly active night, a moment of pleasure and screams pass her mind for the jolt of ecstasy and lust to be felt. \n_ _\n\n\"Are you jealous, Deimos?\" Her honeyed voice spoke like spun silk, her gaze playful and brave. Despite the knowledge they both had in her knees shaking in fear below them. \"Does it bother you to know that I spend my nights touched by another?\" Finally she succeeded in releasing herself of his grasp, her footing moving herself backwards from him. From the consumption of her he so often threatened by simple existence alone. \"I may be tethered to you by threads of darkness but I refuse to be your puppet any longer. Besides... You discarded me, what do you even fucking care who I spend my nights with?\" \n_ _" } ]

[ { "author": "etherealqueen1", "message": "Location: Calliope's bedroom in Heph's home \nWho: Hestia and Calliope" }, { "author": "Calliope Winters", "message": "***The loud clanging of metal against metal rung all throughout the forge, the sound quieter the further one was from it. Calliope was up in her bedroom inside her father's home, frantically cleaning up. Her room had been a mess, with her busy working and dealing with her newfound schoolwork. Clothes littered all along the floor, her homework scattered on her desk with her new textbooks. It was a disaster, but she was managing to clean up the bedroom quickly. She threw her clothes in her hamper, and then rearranged her desk to look nice. She had a fairly large bedroom, big enough for her to have a little library area right next to her large window. A large bookshelf sat right by it, with two chairs in the corner so she could comfortably read.*** \n\n~\n\n***Since she met her father, their relationship had improved exponentially from their first meeting. It took some time, but she feels she can trust him now. It wasn't to say she didn't harbor some negativity towards him, sometimes his abandonment of her mother got to her. She understood why... But she wished he had stayed with her. She couldn't change the past, so she simply had to learn to move on from this. One thing Calliope did notice was his affections for someone new, Hestia. She didn't know too much about the goddess, other than the little things she was able to pick up on. For the sake of her father though, she would try to get to know her better. Callie did like her, she just needed to know a bit more before she truly made her judgements. It was one of the reasons she invited Hestia, to try and bond with her. Yet also so they could enjoy books together.***\n\n~\n\n***Calliope was often on the shy side of things. She had a very small circle of friends back home, but here in Olympian she didn't have many. She had acquaintances, sure, but she lacked in friends. Her demeanor made it difficult, but she didn't know how to socialize so effortlessly. She always felt awkward, or like she was far too boring to ever entertain. However, Callie felt a comfort around Hestia, As if she didn't need to worry about these things, it was a refreshing feeling.*** \n\n~\n\n***The young demigod finally had her room all fixed up, thankfully she refilled her little snack cart days before this so they may have things to munch on and drink. She needed this to be perfect, the nervousness settling in. In a way she wanted Hestia to like her, not only for her father's happiness but to have someone to call a friend. After all... She would be like a step mother to her if things went down that path. She took a seat on her bed now, anxiously awaiting her arrival. She wasn't sure where her father was, surely in the forge. She expected they would talk a bit first before Hestia came up to see her. Callie made sure to dress comfortably today, her blonde hair tied up in a messy bun with a scrunchie. Her clothing was a matching shorts and tank top set in a light purple color, and on her feet she wore her favorite indoor shoes. Her green eyes did a once over of her bedroom, ensuring nothing was out of place or looked filthy.***" }, { "author": "Hestia", "message": "``The flame goddess was on her way to meet with Calliope, for a book-reading session. After kindling a similar love of reading in their first (proper) meeting, the two had agreed to meet to continue to spark that passion together. It would seem that Hestia was growing closer to the family of the forge in all facets, & she was certainly happy about that.\n\nIf Hestia saw the true state of Callie's room, she would've certainly been shocked for a second. Her own room was by no means the cleanest, compared to the other places she kept, but it was probably decently clean compared to Callie's. Then again, it would be clear where the demigod got her fondness for clutter from, given a certain forge God's messiness.\n\nHestia initially attempted to converse with Callie out of respect. Seeing how Hestia was growing ever closer to the Forge God, Hephaestus, and how Callie was his daughter, it was only kind to try and grow closer to her. But, after finding out their shared love of literature, it was pretty clear that the easiest way to do that, was to indulge in this shared love a bit more.\n\nShe would briskly walk through the busy hearth, giving a friendly head nod to the workers (& maybe a longer look at Hephaestus, if he was around), before quickly waking over to where she believed Callie's room to be. In her arms, were a stack of old, well maintained novels that she thought Callie might enjoy skimming over. They were mainly sappy romance novels, of amateur quality, that was certain to get some laughs out. However, she did have some better books as well, which they could sort through.\n\nIn an attempt to be more casual, she would arrive in one of the outfits Aurora gave her. She swapped from the dutiful white himation & yellow shawl, to the loose white satin dress that her champion bought her. Boldly, she also decided to wear the red heels that came with them, punctuating her steps in both sound, & balance.``\n\n*She would knock on the door to Callie's room, poking her head in* \"Callie, dear? I do apologise if I am late. I wanted to practice walking in these heels Aurora got me, but I fear it may have made me slow to a crawl\" *She would giggle, as she looked in at the demigod.*" } ]

[ { "author": "kenneth.greygullhaven", "message": "Location: Hephaestus' personal home forge \nWho: Hestia and Hephaestus" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "The clang of metal against metal did not echo through the vast cavern of the divine forge that day as it usually did. The space was relatively empty, all the craftsmen and apprentices and workers having been sent away as soon as he had returned. Hephaestus, god of the forge, sat hunched over his work table, his muscles still tense and hands still trembling slightly from the earlier altercation with his brother, Ares. The argument had started over something trivial, as most of their fights did. But this time, the words had cut deeper and the blows had landed harder. Hephaestus could still feel the sting of Ares' hands against his cheek, the heat of his breath as he spat insults and accusations.\n\nHe had retreated to his forge, as he always did when he needed to calm his anger. The heat of the flames and the rhythmic pounding of his hammer against the anvil were usually enough to soothe his frayed nerves. But today, despite his best efforts, he couldn't shake the hurt and anger that coursed through his veins. Hephaestus stared into the roaring fire, watching as the metal in front of him glowed red hot. \n\nHis thoughts were a jumbled mess, and he couldn't make sense of them. He had always been the quiet one, keeping to himself and his work. Ares, on the other hand, was loud and impulsive, always seeking out conflict and reckless adventures. They were complete opposites, and yet, they were brothers. Bound by blood and blood alone, they had never been close. But today's argument had driven a wedge between them, and Hephaestus wasn't sure if it could ever be repaired.\n\nHe gripped his cane tighter, his knuckles turning white as he tried to control the rage building inside him. It wasn't fair. He had always tried to be the peacemaker, to avoid confrontation and keep the peace among his siblings. And yet, it was always him who ended up bearing the brunt of Ares' anger.\n\nHe closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to push away the memories of their fight. But they flooded back, unrelenting and painful. Hephaestus could feel the lump forming in his throat, the familiar stinging behind his eyes as he looked at the half-finished wood carving that sat before him- \n\nA desperate attempt to keep his mind distracted. He had always been self-conscious about his appearance, and Ares' words always had a sharpness to them that only the God of War and his brother could manage. Every word designed to cut deep. The jabs at his appearance and disability. The taunts highlighting his weakness compared to the other gods. The feeling of uselessness when it came to standing up for himself and protecting those he cared about- especially Hestia... It really weighed on him. \n\nHephaestus felt the shame and humiliation well up inside him once more, as if he were a child again, hiding in his workshop to escape his brother's mocking laughter. His hand trembled as he looked at the crude carving in his hand, hearing Ares' mocking words about his appearance and his worth echoing loudly in his head once more. \n\nHe couldn't take it anymore. In one swift motion, he flung it into the fire. It landed with a crash in the middle of the embers, causing the flames to leap high into the air, the roar of the fire drowning out his own ragged breathing. He was a god! The God of the Forge, master of fire and creation! He would not cry over the insults and taunts of his brother. And so it was there Hephaestus sat, staring into the flames as he fought back the flood that seemed to be threatening to wash over him.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Hestia", "message": "``An unfamiliar route would be the one that laid before the Goddess of the hearth that day. She too had been privy to the bravado & pugnacity of her nephew, Ares. The God often held enough respect for the woman to hold his tongue, and she held enough respect in his duties to not interfere. After all, what was such a peaceful deity to know about conflict?\n\nEnough. Enough would be the answer. For while Ares was summoned in the times of a soldier's strife, or their imminent victory in his name, Hestia would be summoned to his leftovers. His consequences, where those who weren't his soldiers had to pray that those who were, came to bash down their door. To pray, that those who were wounded protecting them, would come to find aid in their time of need. Hestia understood little of Ares' work, but she knew plenty of his consequences.\n\nAnd such a consequence had her traversing these halls. She had only been to Hephaestus' forge a few times, in search of simple requests. Despite being family to many of the Gods & Goddesses, she might as well have been little more than an acquaintance, with how little she made herself known. Were she not sister to the King of Gods, she would've likely been little more than myth. But, while very few knew her, she knew many of them at a deeper level. The Goddess wasn't a fan of gossip, but her job was that of a protector. A guardian. A guiding light. A minor boon of such, was a sort of clairvoyance, through the sacred hearth. She held little control over it, but she could peek in on the lives of any who lit a flame in her name, and as she gifted such flames, nearly all were subconsciously done in her name.\n\nThis often led her to scry on mortals from all over. A loving family cooking a meal, a bustling street market, an entertaining show, or a romantic dinner by candlelight. Such glimpses made her heart swell, even if scraps of longing came after. Small enough to push down like always, and repress the thought with a smile. But sadness came``\n\n``as easy. A devastating forest fire, a rage-fuelled crime, a tragedy beginning to bloom. These were harder to gift, and harder still to watch, as the Goddess could do little else but skew the odds, so that it turned out good in the end. Such things took longer to leave her heart, but she could normally choke them down all the same.\n\nBut, there was one thing she couldn't forget. One flame, that she had only seen just a couple of times, on quieter nights. An intrusion that she felt bad for, despite the lack of control she had, and yet one she couldn't easily forget. Who else, but the flame belonging to the one of her like-domain. The God of fire and forges, Hephaestus.\n\nA few times, Hestia caught a glimpse of the remnants of a meeting with Ares and his brother. They all ended the same, with the War-god winning his battle, and the fire in Hephaestus' soul falling away into little more than an ember. It was soul-crushing to witness, such a kind soul be stamped down in such a manner. And the heartache only swelled, as the kindling of spending time with the Forge God made her more empathetic.\n\nAnd on this night, Hestia felt the same pain. A rage that boiled hotter than her flames could, out of little more than a fractured ego. Were it not for those around her, the Goddess couldn't rightly say what she would've done. But she was weak. The constant rage stoked her flames, causing her own energy and heat to be taken as payment. Her skin would be paler than it already was, as colour couldn't build in her cheeks. Yet, she persisted, the heat inside her still battling to remain. She had to do this.\n\nShe considered doing what she always did. Fleeing to her Hearth, and gathering her strength, then putting on a brave face for all the next day. It was a tried and true strategy. But, she knew of one other person who would think the same, and she couldn't bear to have someone else go through that.``\n\n``To Hades' realm with cowardice. Her white himation dress would flow out behind her, and her golden locks flowed with them with renewed passion & fervour, even doing a bit to bring a slight pinkish blush to her cheeks. Or was that... She would shake her head, as she continued to bolt towards Hephaestus' domain. She couldn't wait any longer. He needed what she didn't often get. Why shouldn't she serve as that?``\n\n*Rounding the corner, panting heavily, Hestia would stand proud, looking into the dim forge. It looked exactly as she saw it through the Hearth, just as cluttered & grim as she had seen it. The forge was devoid of its usual commotion, and filled with a deep gloom. Casting a dark shadow, Hephaestus would be sat before the fire she so often saw him in.*\n\n*Placing a hand over her heart, she would step in timidly, stilling her shaking, nervous breaths.* \"H-Hephaestus? May I come in?\" *Hestia would call out softly from the doorway, keeping one hand on the doorway of the more personal room. Her face was that of a small frown, filled with worry for the God, as she eyed his silhouette.*" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "The sound of steady footsteps echoed through the cavernous forge, alerting Hephaestus to another's presence. But he didn't turn around. The air shifted and filled with the intoxicating scents of herbs and spices, a lingering sweet aroma that always accompanied her. Hephaestus' grip on his cane tightened as he braced himself for the voice that would soon reach his ears- the voice he both longed to hear and also feared, in a way, at that moment. Her soft footsteps stopped behind him and he could feel her presence like a warm embrace, a welcome intrusion into his solitary world of flames and metal.\n\nHestia, with her gentle disposition and unwavering strength, served as a steady anchor for Hephaestus. With just a smile, kind words, and her comforting touch, she could dispel any fog or confusion in his mind. In this moment of turmoil, he longed for her presence to bring him peace and stillness. But at the same time, he feared that she would see him in this vulnerable state - broken, weak, pathetic, and cast aside by his own family. The cruel words of his brother echoed in his mind like a never-ending cycle, tormenting him even now.\n\nHe didn't want Hestia to see him in this vulnerable state. Despite the safety and comfort of the forge, he couldn't shake off his guard completely. Only when he was truly alone—after Callie had gone to bed, Arsenio had closed up shop for the day, and the other craftsmen and apprentices had left for their own homes—did he allow himself to let go. It was in these moments of solitude that the facade he wore so tightly during the day often crumbled, revealing a side of himself that few were privy to see.\n\nIt was then, in the stillness of the night, a single tear escaped from his eye. It was that moment, a rare display of vulnerability that he reserved for the cover of darkness, that Hestia had chosen to make her presence known. Hephaestus lifted a hand to his face as it rolled down his cheek, and he whispered a silent, desperate plea for change. In that moment, he felt completely shattered and broken. He was no longer the mighty forge master, the legendary blacksmith of the gods. He was just Hephaestus, another soul struggling to survive amidst the endless wars of the gods. This was when he was at his lowest, feeling utterly defeated and alone in his struggles.\n\nHetia's words, soft, almost hesitant reached his ears. He couldn't bring himself to look at her even as he turned and looked over his shoulder slightly. His eyes stopped short of her as he opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come out. After a second failed attempt he simply nodded, shoulders slumping a little more as he stared at the glowing embers and the small flames that danced still before him.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Hestia", "message": "*She would be unaware of the scented aura she gave off, as she stepped into the hearth. She knew she bore a smell of the hearth, slightly smoky, with an essence of spice, but she wasn't aware just how much the spice truly radiated from her.*\n\n*It had been a good while since Hestia had stepped into the Forge. As she carefully shuffled into the place, step by step, she would think of all the times she had promised to do so before. For commissions, for a visit, for simple enjoyment. She was only disheartened that it had taken such a catastrophic event to make her finally set on doing it. Still, she couldn't think about such things now. She needed to check if Hephaestus was alright, and would continue to step closer.*\n\n*She hadn't fully noticed she had started to enter without permission. Continuing to move forward, she felt an almost gravitational pull towards the forge god, as if her domain demanded her to help him. She had seen him weak a few times before, but seeing it fully in person put a pressure on her lungs and heart. A pang of guilt, sorrow, and desire to help welled up inside her, as she moved ever closer. She would catch a glimpse of the tear down his cheek, and would bite the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to stay put, until her presence was formally welcomed.*\n\n*At the sad, gentle nod, she would then move forward quickly, her sandals hitting the smooth stone noisily as she set off in a dash. She would have to silently remind herself to show some restraint, as she stepped up to his side, resting a hand on the arm of his chair, as she gave a gentle sigh. The gentle rolling fire would react to her presence, having recalled her gaze through it a few times before, as it turned a slightly golden colour, and crackled louder in response to her.*\n\n*Crouching beside the forge God, she would look into his eyes, breathing softly.* \"H-hello, Hephaestus. I-I'm sorry for what happened, earlier. I know it was not by my fault, but I know that Ares shall not apologise\n\nFor such, so I want to do so for him, in some capacity.\" *She would say, eyeing up his hand, that white-knuckle gripped his cane.*\n\n\"H-how are you feeling? And please, do not mask the truth. The gods lie to each other enough as it is, let us not do it in times of weakness\"\n\n||" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus lifted his gaze, hazel green eyes flickering with the glow of embers that flared up in the presence of the goddess of fire. Shadows danced across his face, adding depth to the strong planes of his jaw and cheekbones, the dark circle under his eyes darker and more pronounced than ever. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated, unsure of how to answer her. It was always expected for him to say he was fine, to downplay the constant aches and pains and exhaustion that came with being the god of craftsmanship of the forge and of the fire. It was his role, his duty, it was who he was. \n\nBut deep down, there was one fear always whispering- what if he couldn't work at his forge, what purpose did he have? What good was he to anyone? That voice in his head whispered cruel words, reminding him of his past and the pain of rejection. 'As useless and pathetic as the trash you were thrown out with,' it sneered. 'You can't protect her, you can't even stand up for yourself. You're nothing without the fire and that hammer.'\n\nThose words had been ingrained in his mind and into his very soul since he first returned to Olympus so long ago. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, Hephaestus couldn't shake off the fear that they held some truth. The thought of losing the respect and the connection that came with being the forge master left a gaping void in his heart and soul. What would be left of him without that title? What was he if he was not the blacksmith of the gods, the great forge master, the master craftsman? He had no power, no strength, no might to stand on like his father or his brother, or any number of the other godly kin he shared Olympian with, had. It was a constant source of turmoil and self-doubt, always lingering in the back of his mind like a dark cloud hovering over his every move.\n\n.\n\nHephaestus blinked a little, chasing away the drifting thoughts as he looked at Hestia as she stood beside him. He forced himself to push away the negative thoughts and focus on the present. His grip loosened on the cane a little as a certain softness fell over his eyes as he signed, leaning ever so slightly into the gentle touch as he did.\n\n\"I am tired Hestia...\" He said softly, his voice strained and rough, the weight of the simple words almost echoing in the relatively empty forge.\"So... Tired.\" There was more he wanted to say, so much more. Words to apologize for being weak, for both being able to protect her against the stinging insults of his brother, words to say how he felt... But none of them would come. And so he sat there, the light and shadows dancing through the forge as he looked at Hestia with a pained look in those tired eyes. \n\n||" }, { "author": "Hestia", "message": "*The goddess of fire would watch the slumped Hephaestus, as she gently leaned on his chair beside him. She watched as he hesitated, but would keep her own lips shut, giving him the room t try and speak, egging him on with a kind smile. She knew it wasn't an expression she was likely to get bac from the forge god, but she hoped it warmed his soul, as much as her presence warmed the room.*\n\n*Hestia couldn't look into Hephaestus' mind. There were certainly gods & goddesses who could, but she doubted that Heph would even let her in to try & help, let alone another deity who might belittle & mock him because of it. She frowned slightly, as she regretted not having a domain that would allow her the insights she desired. She watched him through the fire, whose light they now basked in, but it gave her no more clues than what she could see plainly before her.*\n\n\"I know this is likely the last thing on your mind... But I hope you can forgive me for my lateness... I know I've made as many promises as there are stars in the sky, of coming to visit. I can only apologise for only coming now, when you... W-when you're not at your best.\" *She would move her hand close to Hephaestus', as she looked down at him.*\n\n*She would give a worried frown at his words, moving around to his front, and crouching down to look into his eyes, which were heavy & tired.* \"Hephaestus... Dear one, if there is one thing my long, long life has taught me, it's that you cannot stay up thinking about this all night. Come along, dear... Let me move you to somewhere more comfortable at least.\" *She would reach a hand out to Hephaestus, going near the hand not by his cane, to help him from his chair.*\n\n\"I can get you a drink, and something to eat. *Thrones, do you need it...*\" *She would whisper to herself, really feeling her role as an aunt as she crouched before her nephew. But, there was something more she wanted... But she also wasn't sure now was the right time.*" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "For the longest moment, Hephaestus didn't move, and Hestia would almost think that her words had once again fallen on deaf ears. He didn't look up as she spoke, instead still gazing at the embers dancing beneath the unfinished pair of gauntlets... His latest project, this one intended for someone special... Each hammer strike, every sigil carved in was a small part of him, a small piece of his soul poured into his work. It was everything he knew how to do and everything he ever was good at.\n\nThen blinking slightly and with a weary sigh, Hephaestus shifted his weight ever so slightly, allowing Hestia to help him to his feet. The blacksmith's grip on the cane tightened as she helped him to his feet, the sudden movement sending a spike of pain up his injured leg. His jaw clenched as he bit back a curse. \"I... Thank you, Hestia. \" The words were short and clipped but there was no anger in the statement, only exhaustion.\"Drink and something to eat sounds good...\" He allowed with a sheepish look as he gazed at the fire goddess.\n\nHephaestus took a slow, unsteady step away from the work bench, with Hestia's help. One hand still gripped the back of the chair as if it were a lifeline while his other hand held onto his cane for balance. With each step he took away from the table and the forge itself, he winced slightly but tried not to show any sign of weakness in front of Hestia. Pride, stubborn pride was both a friend and an enemy at times like this.\n\nHephaestus let out a heavy sigh of exhaustion as Hestia came to his aid, providing support as she led him towards the small cot tucked away behind a modest curtain in the far corner of his personal home forge. Despite this being his private workspace, located directly below his and Callie's bedroom, he often found himself choosing to stay down here to work instead.\n\nThe warm glow of the coals and the familiar scent of burning metal were both comforting and invigorating, luring him into a state of focus and productivity. But now, as his body ached from hours spent hunched over the anvil, he was grateful for Hestia's assistance in making it to his makeshift resting place.\n\nHe sank onto the bed with a sigh, letting out a breath that he had no idea he had been holding in. A grimace passed his face as arthritis flared up in his joints and legs, adding insult to already grievous injury as they settled down onto the mattress. Whether it was from the pain or simply a desire not to bother his daughter late at night with his at times noisy climb up the stairs, staying in the forge was just easier much of the time. Hence the small sleep space he had set up some time ago. It was a simple bed, nothing like the grand palaces of Olympus but it was home and it was enough for him when all he did was sleep and work.\n\n\"I... Apologize for being... Such company,\" He signed as he finally let himself look up at her, voice rough with fatigue though he did manage a smile as he reached out a hand and laid it over hers gently, giving it a gentle squeeze, feeling the warmth radiating from her. \"Thank you Hestia... For...\" Hephaestus trailed off as he looked at her. How do you thank someone for actually caring and showing up? \n\n||" }, { "author": "Hestia", "message": "*She would give the forge god a concerned smile as he sat catatonic before her. She couldn't afford to let herself seem weak in his presence, or give the impression that such an act for him was a burden on her. She stayed in position, with a hand extended to the forge god, silently encouraging to accept the aid for once, only masked as a kind gesture. He needed the help.*\n\n*She would gasp softly as he accepted, squeezing his hand tightly as he took it to help him stand. She came round to his side, helping him out of the chair* \"There we are... Come along...\" *She would whisper, more so to herself. She would twitch as she watched him grit his teeth, and it took what little will she had remaining to not commission every single ember in the man's forge towards healing him. It would likely only end up incinerating his outfit, anyway. Despite how he tried to display independence, & show strength, she stuck close to him, wrapping an arm aound his aching ower back, as she helped him along*\n\n\"Of course, dear. You look like you need it. I won't scare myself by asking when you last had a good meal\" *She would crack a joke, giving him a soft smile as she looked up at him, laced with concern. She would pull the larger fire god against herself, forcing him to use her for support, and unintentionally hugging his side. A blush didn't come to her face at the closeness immediately, as her mind was hyper focused on helping him, in addition to her repressed feelings.*\n\n*She aided his path, not exactly knowing where his resting place was, but when she caught sight of it, she would help him over to the curtain that hid the resting area, brushing it aside as she helped him inside. It made her heart ache to hear him in such pain. And not just pain, but **Masked** Pain, as if he couldn't dare to show his weakness around her, even as it cut through his whole body. A small lump would form in her throat, as she committed herself to helping him as soon as possible.*\n🔥\n\n*Hestia would quickly draw the curtain behind them, obscuring the forge & its glow from view of the flame god, before helping him down onto the modest bed. She let him down slowly, almost feeling the pain in every movement he made. The place was far from Olympian standards, but the same could be said for her own living arrangements. Spartan is how some people would call it, providing the basics & little more. The basics was something she could appreciate.*\n\n*After ensuring he was as comfortable as she could manage for the time being, she would turn around, and locate the mini fridge, presumably left by Calliope, she would think. Opening it, she would hold her tongue at seeing it fully stocked, hoping that it was because it was recently stocked, & not because Hephaestus had been abstaining from such. A small crate of teabags would also be sitting on top, and the flame goddess suddenly had an idea.*\n❤️‍🔥\n\n*Getting a less than clean mug from the side, she would rinse the inside out, before placing the teabag inside, and filling it with water. Then, she clutched it close to her chest, willing all the internal heat she had into heating the water, so that Hephaestus could enjoy a decent drink, that should help his aches. But was there anything else that she could do for them...*\n\n*She would shake her head for the moment, handing the mug to Hephaestus.* \"Here you are, dear, drink up.\" *Taking out some items from the fridge. Out of what was there, she took out some moderately fresh fruits (Not left for too long, then), as well as some oats & yogurt. Dicing up the fruits Heph liked, and adding them to a bowl with the filling oats & yogurt, she would stir it around to mix it, warming it as she did. Her eyes would begin to droop as her own energy was used to supply such blessings. But it was a worthwhile endeavour.*\n\n*When she was done, she would turn back around, handing the slightly warm bowl to him* \"Careful now, it's- Haha, well, I suppose its heat is not a problem for you...\" *She would step back a bit, looking at Hephaestus wistfully, placing one hand to her chest. Her eyes would flutter, as she battled her lowering energy. She shrugged it aside with a question.* \"D-do you still hurt, Hephaestus?\"" } ]

[ { "author": "kenneth.greygullhaven", "message": "Location: Hephaestus' forge\nWho: Hephaestus and Calliope\nEarly in the morning before the forge is even fully going for the day, Hephaestus gets a visit from the most unlikely of people..." }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "The sky was painted with hues of pink and orange, signaling the early hours of the morning. The sun had just begun its ascent over the towering buildings, casting long shadows on the empty streets below. Despite the early hour, Hephaestus was already hard at work, having risen before even the first rays of light appeared. As he stepped out of his forge, the lingering scent of smoke and metal filled his nostrils. \n\nHe quickly made his way to the small shop attached to the forge, checking inventory and making sure everything was in order for the day ahead. With skilled hands, he stoked the fire back up in the forge, coaxing it into a steady blaze that would fuel his creations throughout the day. Every morning brought this routine, a ritual that kept his craft alive and thriving. He never let the fires of his forge fully burn out but it did take a little work each morning to fully waken the fires again. \n\nLike a ritual performed daily without fail, Hephaestus reached into the blazing forge and plucked out an ember, his bare hands showing no fear of the intense heat. With the strength and power of a god of fire and forges, he handled the fiery coals effortlessly. A contented smile graced his face as he sauntered over to the iron lantern hanging on the far wall, which he of course had fashioned himself, and dropped the glowing ember within. Instantly, the dull metal transformed into a radiant source of light, casting its warm glow upon that corner of the forge. The air was thick with the scent of burning wood and molten metal, a familiar aroma that Hephaestus found comfort in as he began to get ready for the day's work.\n\nHephaestus moved with a slow and deliberate nature, every step carefully calculated as if he were conserving energy for a marathon. Today was going to be a slower day regardless, the weight of fatigue and pain weighing heavily on his body and mind. The night had been unkind, sleep once again eluding him and leaving him lost in memories of the past. His dreams were fragmented, filled with visions and images he would rather forget. The constant agony from his leg and back made it nearly impossible to find any peace or rejuvenation. \n\nWith a deep breath, Hephaestus stepped out onto the porch, leaning heavily on his cane for support as he watched the sun slowly climb into the sky, its rays casting a warm glow over the world below. After a few moments, he turned and strode with purpose into the forge, the steady clank of his cane reverberating off the stone floor. The weightier sound of his brace added to the symphony as he made his way towards the forge, his shoulders slumping with a heavy sigh. With a sense of resignation, Hephaestus settled into his usual spot in front of the blazing forge, knowing that he had no real reason to leave it unless someone happened upon him during the day. \n\nThe heat from the fire enveloped him like an old friend, comforting and familiar. He closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the rhythmic hammering of metal on metal, finding solace in his work as he always did." }, { "author": "Calliope Winters", "message": "***The City of Olympia was none other than beautiful, both day and night. A far cry from Calliope's hometown. Since the death of her mother Grace, she sold their shop in Bedford to a family friend who would care for it. Once the arrangements had been done for the funeral, she set to work on leaving home. Nothing was keeping her there, she had no one really worth staying for. Now here she stood, in her own penthouse she could afford with the earnings she saved from the business. Now all she needed was a job. A place where she can do what she loves. She had been in Olympia for only a week now, and so far she had found nothing. Yet in her search, she had heard of a forgery within the city. She jotted down the information on her cell phone that day, seeing as it wasn't too far from where she lived. Calliope stood before her mirror, applying a bit of mascara to her lashes. Once she finished, she did a once over of herself. Because she was going to the forge today, she wore a pair of baggy, black jeans with her favorite combat boots. Her top also black, yet somewhat cropped just above her belly button. Over her shirt she wore a green and black flannel, one of her favorites that she liked to wear whilst working. Her blonde hair tied up into a messy bun, just in case she would be allowed to do any work today. She didn't like having her hair in the way, not only was it dangerous but it got irritating to her at some point. She grabbed her bag from the side of her bed, checking herself over one more time before leaving her bedroom. She swiftly made her usual morning coffee, pouring it into a to go cup then exiting her penthouse. While the forge was close, she still needed to hail a cab to take her over there. She sold her car before she moved here, to cover some expenses in case she couldn't find a job in an ample amount of time. Calliope hailed a cab from the sidewalk, hopping in and instructing the driver where to go.***\n\n***She scrolled aimlessly on her phone, looking through her instagram and twitter accounts. Anything to distract her from the growing anxiety. Her free hand fidgeting with the hem of her flannel shirt. The young demigod prayed this would work out. As much as she missed her mother, she couldn't avoid forges forever. She felt a need, a desire to be in the heat. To watch as the flames heat the metal, making it easier to bend it as she willed it. Callie wanted to feel the beads of sweat that formed on her forehead whenever she worked in the forge, spending hours crafting anything that came to mind. Whether she had planned it or not. It was in this daze, she was startled by the driver. Having not realized the cab had come to a halt, she quickly payed him the amount she owed and jumped out. Her heart thundering in her chest as she admired the shop. Taking a deep breath, she finished off her coffee and tossed it in a nearby trashcan before entering. Her green eyes gazed around in curiosity and wonder of the shop. A sense of nostalgia instantly filling her. Calliope wasn't too sure if she was ready to do this again. She didn't have the person who encouraged her, who eased her worries. A hand gripped onto her bag tightly, her soft voice ringing through the shop as she spoke. \"Umm... Hello? Is anyone here?\" She asked, her eyes darting around to see if she may have missed the manager of this place. From her searches, she didn't get many answers about it other than it was the best shop in town. While she waited for someone to come out, she took her time to walk arround. Eyeing the mixture of products sold.***" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "If Calliope ventured further into the workshop, she would be greeted by a sprawling workbench to her left. It was littered with unfinished projects, each one a masterpiece in its own right. Swords with shining blades and intricately designed hilt guards, spears adorned with feathers and jewels, shields that boasted intricate patterns and symbols, and helmets fit for a king. All of them were works in progress, waiting to be brought to life by skilled hands. To her right would be a massive forge, its fiery embers still glowing from the previous night's work. The intense heat radiated off of it, causing the air to shimmer and dance around it. \n\nThough quiet now, the forge seemed almost alive, anticipating the next project that would breathe new life into its flames. Hephaestus was completely absorbed in his work, hunched over one of his smaller forges and leaning in close to the table. The orange glow from the fire danced across his face, highlighting the sharp angles and strong lines of his features. His calloused hands moved swiftly and surely over a piece of bronze, adding intricate details and engravings that were reserved for only his most special creations. \n\nSuddenly, a voice called out and broke through his intense focus, causing him to startle and squint in the brightness of the forge's light. Glancing over towards the entrance to the forge. Hephaestus expected o see one of his regulars, maybe Alastor, or Pan, or even his brother. But he saw neither and his curiosity was instantly piqued at who had come to see him in his forge.\n\nTrying to hold back a small groan, Hephaestus stood slowly from his seat, grabbing the cane as he did. He limped over, a grunt escaping him as he shifted his weight onto his cane. The forge was already warming up, the growing fire chancing away both shadows and the cold as the morning work was just beginning. His breathing was a little labored, but he managed a smile as he saw he had a visitor... And someone he didn't recognize. A rare thing indeed. \"Ah, good morning,\" He greeted warmly. \"Welcome to my humble abode.\" He nodded towards a stool by the workbench and wiped his brow with a forearm covered in black soot. \"I see you've found my little place here. How can I be of service?\" He said with a small bow of his head as he stood before Calliope.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Calliope Winters", "message": "***Calliope walked further into the workshop, eyeing the littered workbench. It look much like her old one, only hers had her sketches and designs sprawled all over. The white paper stained by her blackened fingers. She admired the many projects, unfinished yet still beautiful in their own right. It was when she felt that pull, a feeling to complete these. To turn them into works of art, yet also useful tools for someone to use. Though to her, she figured they would be more so display pieces than anything else. Unless people still fought with swords and shields... She shook her head, taking in a deep breath. The smell of burning coal and hot metal filling her nose instantly. She walked back towards the entrance, waiting to see if anyone was here. Otherwise she would have to look elsewhere.*** \n\n***Calliope's green eyes snapped to the older man who walked out from the back, must be where the workshop is she thought. She could feel the itch in her hands to go spend hours in there. To be back in a zone that brought her peace. She smiled politely at the older man, adjusting her small backpack onto her shoulder.*** \"Good morning, I'm sorry if I am rather early.\" ***She said sheepishly in response, continuing to explain her current situation. He looked kind and understanding... She had high hopes for this.*** \"Well, I am new to the city and I have been searching for a place to work... I happened upon this one. Are you by chance hiring anyone? I have a resume printed out if you need it.\" ***She gestured towards the black soot along his arm. He must have been working on another project.*** \"I used to be covered in that when I worked in my mother's forge. I sure hope you are taking new people, it has been awhile since I've used my talents. It is why I am looking for someplace similar... Your work is beautiful.\" ***She rambled off a bit, her anxiety taking over. Her eyes widening a bit as she realized she forgot to introduce herself to him.*** \n\n \"Oh apologies for my rudeness... My\n\nName is Calliope Winters. Many like to just call me Callie.\" ***She held out her hand, smiling softly. She hoped he didn't think badly of her already, she was nearly desperate for this job. Her green orbs flitting over to the workstation she had seen, then back to where the workshop was. Since she could remember, she always felt some sort of pull when around places like this. A desire to feel the heat of the fire, to work for hours bending and twisting metal to her will. Seeing the red glow of it. She never understood why she felt this way, she often tried to pass it off as merely being passionate about the craft. Yet as she grew older, it became harder to ignore it. She noticed how much stronger she was compared to others... How attracted she was to fire and the art of metal working. Nothing could explain it, even now as she thought about it she felt that pull. Callie shook her head again, having lost herself in her thoughts.***" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus smiled at her as he reached her and took her hand in his larger but surprisingly gentle hand and took her offered one. He looked at the young woman with a twinkle in his eye. He took her hand and gave it a firm shake, feeling the warmth of her skin against his calloused fingers. \"Ah, Callie, it's good to meet you,\" He said. \"My name is Hephaestus. Welcome to my forge.\" His voice rumbled with surprising tone that was bold but also calming in a way, even as it echoed off the walls of the workshop. He motioned for her to step further inside the forge itself, his thick blacksmith's apron swaying with the movement of his body and the noticeable limp. The shinning metal of the leg brace caught the light of the fires as he lead Callie into the heart of the main forge area.\n\nThe place was vast, larger than she likely could have imagined from the outside, and filled with all manner of tools and metals. Great hammers, files, rods, and other tools hung from the walls, their forms gleaming amidst the soot and glowing coals. The air was thick with heat and the scent of molten steel as Hephaestus finally stopped and faced Callie with a somewhat proud smile. \"This is where I create wonders for the gods,\" He said proudly, gesturing around him. \"The very weapons they use in their battles against monsters... And each other... Are fashioned here these forges. Of course there is much more that comes from the fires but lately it seems weapons and armory are in high demand.\"\n\nAs they walked further inside, Callie could see rows upon rows of anvil stations lined up like soldiers waiting for orders. Each one bore evidence of recent use - there were still sparks dancing on the cooling surfaces of some, embers glowing red-hot beneath others, many of them seeming to still crackle with the impact of the hammers. \"As it happens,\" Hephaestus continued as he led her through the cluttered workshop, \"I am always on the lookout for talented hands to help around here. And your passion is palpable - quite refreshing.\" Stopping at a massive anvil, Hephaestus turned to her and gave a small smile as he tiled his head and looked at her. \n\n\"If you wish to work here with me, this will be your workspace, for now at least,\" He said with a chuckle. \"Simple enough, isn't it? However, don't let appearances fool you - this anvil has seen more epic creations than any other in this world. It was one of the first anvils I ever worked with, so it has its fair share of wonders and secrets to reveal.\" He stood and watched Callie, trying to judge her thoughts and reactions as he waited for her response. \n\n||" }, { "author": "Calliope Winters", "message": "***Calliope shook his hand, offering him a small smile. His calloused hands felt rough against her own, as she hadn't been doing much forge work in awhile. His kindness made her feel more relaxed, the tension leaving her body as she released his hand. She thought Hephaestus was a rather... Odd name. Not many named their kids after infamous Greek gods, but she could see why they would in this city anyways. City of Olympian, a sort of worship to the ancient gods and their histories. It's why she chose this place, she was always fascinated by the Hellenistic era and its beliefs.*** \n\n\"It is a pleasure to meet you Hephaestus, your forge is beautiful.\" ***She said in awe, stepping further into the forge as he motioned for to do so. Oh how she felt so at home, she wanted to begin crafting immediately. That pull only grew in strength, but she was used to feeling it now. She still couldn't explain it, many would think her insane. Maybe Hephaestus would understand, if he asked why she is so interested in working at his forge. It was almost ironic, a man named after the greek god who is known for his various crafts running a forge. A funny coincidence, she told herself. This city was far more devoted to the history than she so expected.*** \n\n***While the forge looked rather small on the outside, Calliope was far from prepared on what it truly looked like. She immediately felt the heat of the burning coal meet her skin, the smell of metal and soot filling her nose instantly. Without thinking, Calliope ventured towards the various tools that hung from the walls. Her hands reaching out, gently touching each and every tool there was. She recognized all of them, but hardly ever used a vast majority. More was crafted here than back in her little jewelry shop, and it filled her with excitement. The many possibilities, ideas that she can pull from her own head and make a reality.***\n\n\"There is always more that can be crafted from the very flames we start, but what do you mean by the gods? Is that just a advertisement thing or... Well I don't know something to draw in people? I noticed there is many designs for weapons and armor, I never made something larger than a dagger. I didn't realize people collect them more so here, but I should've. Knowing the history and all, I guess I should have assumed people would collect these things as if they lived in ancient Greece themselves.\" ***She said with a light laugh, truly unknowing that he only spoke of something beyond her own knowledge.***\n\n***Calliope turned to face Heph now, following him further into the forge. Though she was still confused by what he meant, about the gods and monsters. They weren't real... Maybe it was just something to draw her wonder in. Yet, it didn't explain why so many weapons and armor needed to be crafted. She could think of a million explanations, but none of the rational ones really stuck. She shrugged off the thought, her green eyes now casting out at the anvil stations. Various lined up by one another, looking either recently used or hardly ever used at all. She continued to follow Hephaestus through the workshop, taking it all in. Trying to remember every detail of where things sat.*** \n\n\"Thank you, I've always had a passion for crafting things from metals and such. I never worked in a forge as large as this one, but I believe I will adjust once I get a feel for it all. It is much larger than it appears really, I think it's very beautiful what you have going on here. I must admit it is also somewhat ironic, you being named Hephaestus and running a forge. It's almost as if the myth has come to life here.\" ***She commented, turning towards him with a bright smile. Calliope was more than ready to start her work here, especially knowing how much it had to offer. She could further her skills even more, her mother would be proud.***\n\n\"I would really enjoy working here if you will have me sir. I would like to further my talents even more seeing as my experience is limited to jewelry and daggers. As for the anvil, well I do like discovering the mysteries and secrets objects often hold. Seeing it was yours, I am sure it has experienced many amazing and beautiful creations.\" ***Calliope complimented, green eyes meeting his own. Happiness was all she felt, but something kept her from feeling it fully. Hephaestus felt almost too familiar to her, but maybe that was her own mind playing tricks on her.***" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus nodded thoughtfully as Calliope spoke, her words stirring old memories within him. How long had it been since he walked among mortals? It had been a while... Several decades at least by the count of mortal years... He used to love visiting the mortals, seeing their villages and towns, marveling at their ingenuity and creativity, just being among them almost as if he could ever be one of them. Their lives were so fleeting yet filled with such passion, such fervor and such love for life.\n\nHe remembered one village in particular, a small little place nestled in picturesque mountains, with woods, rivers, lakes, and more sunning plant and animals than he could barely imagine. The small town had welcomed him in easily enough, and despite his usual week to a month venture into the mortal world Hephaestus had stayed there for what the mortals deemed to be an entire summer season. He lived among them, worked with them, and grew very fond of some of them... It had been a happy time for him certainly.\n\nAs Hephaestus led Calliope further into his workshop and showed her the wonderful things he had, his mind wandered back over the eons to when he first built this place. After being rejected and largely seen as an outcast among the other gods, he had found refuge here, channeling his anger and bitterness into crafting magnificent weapons and armor for the gods and heroes as well as fashioning all manner of stunning items that would stand the test of time.\n\nAt first, he rarely left his forge, happy to lose himself in his work. But over time, curiosity drew him out into the mortal world. He would take on human form and walk among them to better understand their hopes, fears and desires so he could craft items that spoke to their spirits. He made joyful discoveries of music, art, food and drink that were new to him. And while he always enjoyed the company of the mortals, often more than his own divine brothers and sisters, there was one that would always stand out clear in his mind- Grace Winters. There was no doubt that Calliope had an uncanny resemblance to her, though it was probably just that aura that many of the mortals had about them.\n\nAs Hephaestus studied Calliope, noting her delicate features and curious, intelligent eyes, he felt the glimmers of a long-buried hope. Perhaps this young mortal could reawaken parts of himself he thought were lost forever. Hephaestus let out a deep, rumbling laugh at Calliope's comments about his name and this forge being like the myth come to life. If only she knew how right she was. \n\n\"I would really enjoy working here if you will have me sir. I would like to further my talents even more seeing as my experience is limited to jewelry and daggers. As for the anvil, well I do like discovering the mysteries and secrets objects often hold. Seeing it was yours, I am sure it has experienced many amazing and beautiful creations.\" \n\n\"The forge remembers,\" Hephaestus said with a knowing grin. \"It has seen many projects in its time. It has much to show and I will teach you how to sharpen your skills, as I can tell you already have the fire of the forge inside you. Especially to have had such experience already at such a young age\" He said with a kind smile as his eyes fell to the necklace around Calliope's neck. \"Is that one of your creations? It is quite stunning indeed.\"\n\n||" }, { "author": "Calliope Winters", "message": "***Calliope ventured further into the forge with hephaestus. The flames of the fires lighting the coals casting a glow over her pale skin, her green eyes appearing brighter. Almost in a trance, she walked closer to one of the work tables, her hand gliding against the surface of it. Feeling every indentation in the table, the scratches of many years of hard work done on it. She could understand almost what he meant by the forge holding its own history. One could almost sense how many times this table itself had been used.*** \n\n~\n\n***She felt at home once more, even though this wasn't her true home. Her home was with her mother, before she had fallen ill and the world crumbled around her. In the small forge they had where they worked together for hours on end, creating the most beautiful pieces they could to sell to others. She enjoyed the happiness on her customers' faces, and maybe here she would be able to have all that again. Some enjoyment in crafting, whether it be alone or with someone who would be working with her. It was a fairly large forge... Surely more worked in it.*** \n\n~\n\n***Calliope glanced down at the necklace she wore around her neck. It was her mothers locket, one that she never removed until she had died and passed it onto her daughter. It was also the last creation of her mother's that she would ever have. She grasped it in her fingers, fiddling with it a bit. The necklace was made entirely of silver, with a medium sized locket in the shape of an oval with floral engravings on it. Moving her hands up, she unclasped it and removed it from around her neck. Stepping closer to Heph, she would open up the locket. Inside rested two pictures, one of her mother and another of the two together when she was a baby.*** \n\n~\n\n\"It was my mothers', her name was Grace Winters. She crafted this when I was only a few weeks old, put the pictures inside of it as well. She is the reason I have so much experience at my age, I've been around her forge for almost my entire life for as long as I can remember. She used to take me with her when I was a child, and when I grew old enough she started letting me help around more. Would even let me attempt to make my own pieces of art...***She trailed off.*** I am very grateful that you are allowing me this opportunity to get back into it. I feel I will learn much from you." }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus watched closely as Callie spoke, his eyes never leaving hers, and as she moved closer to the work table, he couldn't help but feel the rush of emotions resurface. He remembered a mortal woman named Grace who held a similar gaze, and who also possessed such a fine flare for metalworking and crafting, her fingers dancing over metal as if it were silk. She had been beautiful, just like this girl before him, with long flowing hair and eyes that could light up a room. She had been the first to welcome him when he had arrived in the mortal realm on that particular trip. They had formed a close bond though Hephaestus never revealed his true nature to her. \n\nOf all the trips to the mortal realm that he had taken over the eons, the sabbaticals away from the pressures of he forge, the chance to just exist and be... Of all the trips away from Olympus, Hephaestus had never met someone like Grace. Where his usualy trips to the mortal realm would last weeks by the count of the mortals, it had been said that his time in that little mountain town lasted 'an entire summer.' \n\nHephaestus was the happiest he had been in some time... Until his brother came looking for him. Threats against the mortals if he didn't return to his duties and forsake the ridiculous nature of his trip, Hephaestus had no choice but to leave. Leave the town he had grown to adore. Leave the woman who had come to earn his affection, and even his love. If there had been another option, he would have opted for that in a heartbeat but in the end he had to go home. It had been an unbearable loss for him, one that haunted him still.\n\nAs Callie spoke of her mother and the necklace, he looked at the locket she held out - it was almost identical to the one he had seen Grace make all those years ago. Hephaestus listened intently as she described her mother's skill and their time spent together in the forge. He could see it all playing out like a movie in his head: the familiar forge he had been working in alongside Grace all those years ago, the conversations they had had, the eventual date nights, and the unexpected love that had blossomed between them both.\n\nHe nodded slowly, his eyes not leaving the necklace and the picture there within the locket. \"Your mother sounds like she was quite skilled and passionate about her craft,\" He murmured softly. \"Reminds me of an equally talented Grace I once knew years ago...\" Hephaestus finally pulled his eyes from the locket and looked up at Callie and it was suddenly like he WAS looking at Grace Winters again. Was it true? Her daughter was here, in Olympian, at his forge? It couldn't be... Could it? \"Callie...\" He hesitated a moment. \"If I am not being too forward or personal with this request... May I ask how old you are?\"\n\n||" }, { "author": "Calliope Winters", "message": "***Calliope's mother had never talked much about who her father was. From the time she was born, she has only ever known her mom. She assumed during her youth that her father had died, and that the loss was so painful Grace couldn't bring herself to speak of it. Callie didn't mind it really, not having a father. Her classmates in school and other parents often wondered how she was doing without one, but the young girl at the time was unphased by it. Grace herself often faced a bit of scrutiny from the happier families, judging her for raising a child all on her own. Yet to Calliope, she admired her mother for it. The strength she had to raise her all on her own, with no help from others. When she grew older, she aspired to be like her mother in that way. Self-sufficient without needing the help of others during times of struggle or hardship.*** \n\n~\n\n***When Calliope was in her early teens, Grace had finally told her about her father... Or at least the truth of him. She had gotten into a fight with her mother over it, demanding to know something. Anything about him so she didn't feel the need to ponder over it every single day. Grace gave in, telling her a short little story. From what Callie knows to be true, Grace met her father one day in the summer. They had a very short lived relationship full of passion and love, but then one day he simply disappeared from town. With no means of contact, Grace was forced to move on from him. Yet, she then birthed Calliope nine months later. A tragic story, and she knew her mother still questioned what had happened to him up until the time of her death. Grace hadn't been with anyone else since then, his disappearance made her wary of all relationships.***\n\n~\n\n***She brought herself back to the present, her mother's locket in her hand. She never could wrap her head around the fact this was the last piece of her mother. How a life could be reduced to a single item... She would never understand it. Her green eyes danced along the pictures, a sadness creeping over her. She missed Grace's smile... And her laughter. Oh she missed her greatly, she had left her too soon. But, it brought her a joy knowing her mother died peacefully and now is free of the pains she suffered.*** \n\n~\n\n***Calliope snapped the locket shut when he finished looking at it, placing the cool metal around her neck and clasping it.*** \"She was, you would have liked working with her as well. Her passion was unwavering, it used to be so difficult to get her to leave her forge.\" ***She smiled, raising her brow. Huh... Well she supposed there are many talented women by the name of Grace.*** \"Oh I do not mind Hephaestus, I know I look... Quite young. I'm twenty one years old, young yes but not as young as some think. I often get told I look more like a high schooler than an adult.\" ***She joked.*** \"Ummm... May I ask why you wished to know though?\"" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus tried to keep the surprise from his face as Calliope spoke of her age. Twenty-one... She was twenty-one... And gorgeous just like her mother. He swallowed the lush in his throat and averted his eyes for a moment, hiding the, what he thought was an unmistakable flicker of something within them. His hands shook ever so slightly and he quickly crossed his arms over his chest to hide it from her view. \"I.. I apologize for my forwardness, Callie.\" He said softly. \"I just... I once knew someone with your name.. And I knew someone, once, named Grace..\" He trailed off, unsure of how to continue without saying the absurd thought that was rattling around in his head- that Grace had bore a daughter, his daughter, and she was standing in his forge at that very moment. As much as he tried to deny it, not daring to believe it, Hephaestus knew in his heart it was true- It was written clear as day on her features... \n\nOh, Hades. He had to be messing with him right now... That had to be what was going on. There was no way that was a coincidence. No possible way that he would be standing in front of the daughter of his long lost love after all these years? It couldn't be true could it... There had to be another explanation- plenty of girls could look similar and be of a similar age right? But the locket... The picture... Hephaestus rubbed the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses as if in thought but in reality, he was trying to push down the ever growing feelings of fear and hope that were bumbling about inside him like a volcano ready to erupt. He couldn't do this, not now, not here and not... Not like this... He took in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly before looking at Callie. \"It is nothing. Just a silly thought in an old mind\" He said with a weak smile. \"I am sorry for prying into your personal life and asking such a personal question.\" He responded truthfully but evasively at the same time.\n\nHis thoughts were consumed now with the idea that this beautiful young woman before him could very well be his daughter. His own child - his own blood - standing right in front of him face to face when he had all but given up on ever being able to have a family. Of every having a child of his own. Of every knowing what it was like to be a father. But now? Could it actually be true? It would likely be safe to say they would both have some hard questions needing answers - if she even wanted anything to do with him if she found out?\n\nThat was assuming they ever got to hate point... How in all of Olympus was he supposed to breech this subject? What would he say when she asked him where he had been all these years? How could he look at her and tell her the truth about why he wasn't there? The guilt and sadness in his stomach coiled itself into a tight knot that threatened to choke him. He was her father. And he hadn't been- no - couldn't have been there for her or her mother when they needed him the most. How was he ever going to make that up to her?\n\n\"I'm... I'm sorry to hear about your mother\" He said softly, barely trusting himself to say anything else in that moment.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Calliope Winters", "message": "***Calliope was unsure what to make of the entire situation. Why was he suddenly so interested in her age. Either way, she shrugged it off as a mere question and nothing more. Though the way he was looking was a bit odd, like he was spooked or something. Flashing a smile despite the awkward unease she felt, she nodded her head.*** \"I am sure there are many Grace's you have met, it is a very common name. Or even used as a middle name for people.\" ***She shrugged, turning her back to him to keep looking around the forge. A thought did cross her mind however, was he insinuating he knew her mother? And if he was... Could he be the man her mother was in love with up until she passed? Callie shook the thought from her head, he could have simply even known her from the jewelry shop back home if he visited there. Grace was a hard woman to forget when she sold someone her creations.***\n\n***Still, she couldn't quite shake the nagging idea in her mind that he knew her mother in some way. However, she refused to believe him to be who she thought he was. No, because if that were true she couldn't be in his presence. He seemed sweet, but if he is that man... It would mean she found her father. After her mother told her the story, Callie never tried to seek her father out. She didn't want to find him and know him, not after he just abandoned her without ever realizing he even had a child on the way. The young demigod wasn't one for grudges, but she held onto this one for years. She didn't need to know her father, after all he disappeared to never be seen again. Off romancing some other woman or going back to the life he left behind, both explanations she had come up with. Or worse, he died in some accident. But Grace would have heard about it, she would have known.*** \"It is alright Hephaestus, we all have those moments I like to think anyways. The question wasn't too personal, I would have been more concerned if you asked me something more personal than my age.\" ***She laughed lightly.***\n\n***Calliope couldn't help but examine Hephaestus a bit closer. Trying to find any similarities between the two of them. Yet, she could only find that they shared the same eye color. While people can share eye colors, she happened to know green wasn't the most common to be shared. In fact, green was quite rare to have as an eye color in comparison to the world itself. She tilted her head slightly, not really thinking of what she would say next.*** \"Have you ever been to Bedford, Virginia?\" ***She questioned, still continuing.*** \"You know, small town in Virginia right next to the Appalachians?\" ***Callie wanted to know if he had gone there, it would lead her closer to the truth at least. He couldn't play off that he recognized her mother, she saw it cross his features when she pulled the locket out. All she wished to know, was if he was just one of her customers or something more than that.*** \n\n\"My mother passed peacefully, I was by her side so she was not alone when it was her time. I am only sorry she had gone so soon, but it brings me peace knowing she is no longer in pain.\" ***She spoke quietly, her mind still swirling with confusion and various theories about him. But most of all, she couldn't bring herself to not outright say what she thought. What she had theorized to say the least. If there was something important she should know, an honest man would tell her without a doubt. The only question that lingered now is if Hephaestus is indeed an honest man, or if he is not.***" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "There were a few moments of silence that fell over the two, only making the sounds of the forge seem all the louder and more pronounced in the background. Hephaestus' mind was immediately sent back to the last trip he had made to the mortal realm, at the time when the tensions between his father and uncles had started to bubble again. The time when the whispers of conflict and war were growing stronger but had not yet hit the boiling point. He had sought reprieve and comfort as he often did, living among the mortals.\n\nA small almost sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth at the mention of that tiny place nestled in the mountains. \"I've been there. It is a beautiful place, nestled among ancient woods and mountains almost as old as I...\" He realized the little slip there but he knew that the way things were going, Callie was going to find out the truth. He just had no idea how he was even going to begin to try and explain this to her. He could still barely believe it himself. \"I spent a summer there once, about 20 years ago or so... One of the most beautiful places I have ever seen.\"\n\nBedford, Virginia... It was there that he had met Grace, a mortal woman unlike any he had ever met before. Hephaestus had never thought that he would find someone who actually loved him, but that all changed when he met Grace and the two started to get to know each other. Her laughter was like a summer breeze and her smile warmed his heart in a way that nothing else ever had. \n\nEvery moment he could spare, he spent at her side. For a brief time, he forgot his divine purpose and duties, simply basking in the joy of being with her. Among the mortals, he shed his title and became just Hephaestus- not the forge god, not the blacksmith of the gods, but simply himself. It was a feeling of liberation and happiness that he hadn't experienced in ages. The weight of his responsibilities lifted as he revelled in the simplicity of being human, if only for a little while.\n\nThe Forge God's hiatus lasted longer than any other previous, stealing away for the entirety of what mortals called the summer. He and Grace fell in love and were the epitome of bliss for an entire summer, stealing away every possible moment to be together. Everything was perfect, they were happy... Until Ares finally tracked down his wayward brother. Hephaestus had been away for too long, it was time for him to come back and Ares knew he would have to force his brother to return t his duties, But even Ares had not expected how much Hephaestus had drifted this time. \n\nThe forge god was going so far as to plan to stay with Grace forever, to forgo everything he had and everything he was for the sake of a life with Grace. However it was not meant to be and Hephaestus found himself forced to leave. It nearly killed him to leave her, but he had no choice... Ares made sure he had no choice. With a lump in his throat as he heard Callie speak about how Grace had died Hephaestus looked at her, wishing there was an easier way to say this. \n\n\"Calliope\" He said slowly. Softly, a silent prayer to whatever god or goddess there was who still looked upon him favorably as he did. \"I knew your mother. I knew the wonderful, kind, and loving woman she was. I only wish I could have been there for her... For you\" He said tentatively, watching to see what her reaction would be. \"I never wanted to leave Grace. I never wanted to miss out on... Being a father.\"\n\nThe words hung in the air. There was a lot he still had to say, a lot Callie deserved to know. He owed her an explication, his side of the story at least. But Hephaestus wasn't even sure in that moment if it was something she wanted to hear. It was more than he deserved he knew, a chance to speak and to explain himself. So he sat, and waited, for what the looming tidal wave he had just unleashed was going to bring.\n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": "kenneth.greygullhaven", "message": "Location: Hephaestus' forge late at night\nWho: Hephaestus and Arsenio" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "The forge was a lively as it ever was that time of night- meaning that Hephaestus was once more at the burning embers working on a new project. It was what he did, when the mind couldn't rest and sleep was a elusive as ever, he sought solace at the glowing embers of the forge. The air was thick with the rich, smoky scent of heated steel and exotic materials. The clang of metal against metal echoed through the cavernous room as the skilled forge master shaped shapeless blocks into something new and purposeful. \n\nSweat beaded on his brow as he poured his passion and skills into each piece, finding solace in the glowing embers of his craft. With expert hands, he molded shapeless blocks of steel and rare metals, transforming them into something new and wondrous. He reveled in the challenge of creating something both beautiful and practical, a true master of his craft. Sleep may have eluded him again that night, but here at his forge, he found peace and purpose amidst the chaos of his thoughts.\n\nWhen everything else seemed to spiral out of control and when the weight of it all got too much, Hephaestus knew he could trust his forge. The fire never let him down and even when the bade flare days came, the metal would still eventually surrender to him and he could still find a sense of satisfaction in the work he did. Long ago he had tired of the war and the endless stream of weapons and armor that seemed to pass through his forge. Hephaestus decided he would keep making what was requested of him as the blacksmith of he gods, but he was also going to keep creating for his own sake.\n\nAmong the weapons of war, there were also delicate goblets, ornate mirrors, majestic crowns, and other items crafted solely for the purpose of beauty and admiration. These were the creations that brought joy to Hephaestus' heart, a small but significant part of his vast repertoire. With each piece meticulously carved and adorned with intricate designs, it was clear that these were the projects he poured his soul into the most. And as they glittered in the light, they served as a reminder that even amidst all the chaos and violence, there was still room for art and creativity in the world.\n\nSo, in many ways, tonight was little different from many others that had been spent hammering on a project through the early morning hours. Except this time, Hephaestus was not alone. He couldn't help but smile as he glanced to his right, watching the young man intently working at the smaller forge. Arsenio had become a frequent visitor to the forge, and Hephaestus didn't mind one bit. There was something fascinating about the demigod, like a puzzle with endless pieces that needed to be deciphered. When they first met, Hephaestus learned a little about Arsenio, but there was still so much that intrigued him about this fiery-hearted young man. Arsenio's passion for his work mirrored his own and it was a pleasure to have such a dedicated apprentice. As he watched the demigod work, Hephaestus couldn't help but wonder what other depths lay hidden behind his intense gaze and stoic demeanor.\n\n\"How are the flames treating you this evening, Arsenio?\" He asked as he set his tools aside and sat down for a brief break, genuine curiosity evident on his face as he spoke.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Arsenio Vairnon", "message": "In the fire, the concept of trial, endurance, boundaries and integrity are explored, pushed, scorched, and excavated. \nIt's why Arsenio loved it. Not just because of his name, which more and more felt like a precursor to his interests and the direction of his life, but because it was a testament to his passion.\nFinding the forge wasn't an accident. He had sought it out after taking to a library and finding the God's name...\"Hephaestus.\" \nHe wasn't exactly what texts depicted, but it made no difference to the demigod. He just wanted to know if the man was interested in sharing his space and letting him create - to have an outlet other than the late night nosebleeds and iron weights.\n\nIt had been some time since the God had approved the use of his space, and after finding a vendor for the blow pipes and tools needed, Arsenio was blowing glass in a crucible. \nThe sound of the steel rod sliding over the yoke revealed a bubble of glass that was already formed and being reheated so that he could take it to the bench and begin shaping it out.\nSweat dripped down the side of his face, even if he wore a bandana to keep a majority of it from his eyes.\n\nSeeing movement, he glanced up to the God, before plopping the wet cherry wood paddle back into the bucket of water that was it's home, after flattening the bottom of the piece. \nHe'd roll the blowpipe over the bench seat edges, checking for any imperfections before standing. His hands were constantly moving, constantly turning the piece so that gravity wouldn't ruin it. Even as he guided it back into the crucible to warm for transfer to a different rod, it turned, the melodic sound of steel continued to scrape back and forth through the yoke stand. \n\nArsenio finally looked at\n\nHephaestus as he spoke. \n\n**\"I can't complain, but I don't want to jinx myself,\"** He spoke with a steady level of focus as he looked back to the fire, having gotten special glasses that dulled the flames' brightness, but they weren't exactly sunglasses. His eyes could be seen from behind them, and the demi god's gaze moved back and forth between the God and the crucible.\n\n**\"What are you working on tonight?\"**" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus' wise eyes gazed thoughtfully at Arsenio as the young man poured his soul into his work, every movement deliberate and filled with purpose. The rhythmic clang of metal on metal and the softer sounds of Arsenio's more intricate craft echoed through the forge, a symphony performed by the skilled hands of both master and apprentice. It had been many long years since the Blacksmith of the Gods had shared the space with another in this way. \n\nThough crippled in body, Hephaestus was still hale in mind and spirit, and he cherished passing on his skills to a promising student. His daughter, Callie, was a master craftsman, skilled in the art of metalworking just like her father. As he thought of her and the exquisite pieces she had created, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride. And now, to his delight, there was Arsenio. Not only was he proving himself to be a skilled and talented individual, but it seemed he might even have some new techniques or ideas to teach the seasoned forge master. The thought excited him and filled him with anticipation for what they could create together.\n\nArsenio's steady gaze was fixed intently on the glowing glob of molten glass at the end of his blowpipe, as if he were in a trance. His skilled hands moved with precision and finesse, shaping the liquid material into an intricate design that seemed to come to life under his touch. Hephaestus watched in silent approval, nodding his head as he witnessed the apprentice's growing mastery over the forge. \n\nArsenio was not only perfecting his glassblowing abilities, something he was already ten times more skilled at than even Hephaestus, but he was also quickly picking up on the more physical aspects of the craft - wielding the hammer and anvil with strength and grace. It was clear that Arsenio had what it might take to become a true master of the forge under Hephaestus' tutelage.\n\nAs Arsenio asked towards his own project for the night, Hephaestus returned to his own work, the row of damaged swords and dented shields that waited for repair. They were weapons used by his brother Ares- those of his men, his own, and some pieces for his son Douglas as well. He looked from the remaining weapons and armor back to Arsenio.\n\n\"Another repair job from Ares,\" He said with a small hint of annoyance that most likely would not have been able to pick up on easily. \"I swear my brother would be half as reckless with his weapons and armor if he did not have the forge here to come crawling to whenever something needed repairing! But is what it is, and I doubt Ares is going to change anytime soon.\" \n\n||" }, { "author": "Arsenio Vairnon", "message": "Arsenio became quiet at the topic of brothers, though it was only because being a product of modernity, that he felt... Further away from all of this than anything. He couldn't really get a handle on the magical aspect of all of the things that his newly found blood line had to offer. \n\n**\"I was taught to take care of my brother... But not even Gods are above the level of ego that humanity often finds themselves in..\"** He mentioned, quietly. It wasn't said to find something to argue about, but rather, the wild young man was attempting to find a connection between God and Man. And how he fit into all of it. \nSometimes he wasn't sure that it was such a good idea to have moved here, if only because of the war, and other times, he felt like he'd been called here to make a difference: like his inheritance of divine blood ties would have brought him here one way or another. \n\nArsenio's eyes were trained on the piece until it was nearly time to take it to the annealer, where the alumina brick would cool it down at an exponentially slow rate, being heated to a specific temperature that wouldn't cause the piece to go through a quartz inversion and shatter. It was a tedious and yet rough art. \nHe placed the steel rod into a bucket of stale water and the sound of glass exploding beneath it was casual. Those short moments of time gave the Demi God time to think. \n\n**\"You don't have to worry about those,\"** He nodded toward the pile on the table, and then made his way to the little station off to the side where there was a coffee pot, still warm. He picked up a ceramic cup and poured himself some of the brewed drink. \n\n**\"Since I'm practicing anyways, I'll see to it. You've probably got more important projects to start on. One's that will make a difference, I'm sure. Rather than just... Training happenstance.\"** \nArsenio gave the coffee a sip, before sighing and looking out to open door, out beyond the stone patio and at the night sky. \n\n||" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus nodded thoughtfully as Arsenio spoke, understanding the young demigod's perspective. Though a god himself, even Hephaestus knew that divinity did not make one infallible. And he also knew all too well how the differences between the mortal and divine could clash... And to feel caught up in the middle of those opposing ideals as a demigod... It was one of the reasons the Forge God had always had a bit of a soft spot for the mortals and demigods alike.\n\n\"You speak openly and honestly, Arsenio, and I admire that,\" He said. \"There is much that even we gods can still learn about taming egos and reigning in our own sense of self-worth. That is why I believe you are destined for great things, Arsenio. You have a connection to both realms that can be both a blessing and a curse. But I see so much great potential in you, you have shown yourself to be strong in both body and mind. Tempering the anger and directing the energy may still be needed\" Hephaestus said with a kind smile though his tone was still somewhat serious. \"But you have come a long way since your first visit to the forge.\"\n\nHe watched the demigod work, impressed by his focus and determination. He knew of the facade Arsenio often wore, the harsh features and attitude and attempt to keep people at arm's length. For their protection. For his own as well. As the demigod finished up his work, the god considered his next words carefully. \"Training is never happenstance if one's heart is true and the work genuine,\" Hephaestus said gently. \"Skills forged in passion, though they may seem small, are always good. They temper the spirit, strengthen the mind, and steel the body. In time, they grow into something greater.\" Hephaestus watched as Arsenio expertly worked the glowing glass, admiring his skill. \"And it is no happenstance you are here - you were called, as we all are, though we may not understand it right away.\"\n\nHephaestus stood with a small sigh after sitting at the workbench for so long. He walked over to the door, leaning against the frame lightly as he joined Arsenio in looking out into the night sky. \"There is a storm coming... One that has been brewing for some time. No longer is this just the god's war I fear. Champions of mortal and divine blood will be the ones to tip the scale in one way or the other. If you wish it, I would be honored to name you among them. But the choice must be yours alone.\" \n\nThe Forge God still quietly gazing out at the night sky, watching Arsenio from the corner of his eyes. He knew it would be a big ask, and he knew there was every chance Arsenio balked at the idea from the start. But Hephaestus knew this was what he wanted- if Arsenio agreed.\n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": "kenneth.greygullhaven", "message": "Location: Hephaestus' home at the Forge. Who: Hephaestus and Asklepios Scene: Hephaestus swallows his pride and admits he needs help from the God of Medicines." }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus let out a low, pained groan as he forced his weary eyes to slowly open. The searing pain of the flareup that had robbed him of the last few days was thankfully subsiding. Now it was just the deep ache that hit his his body like rolls of thunder and bolts of lightning that caused him to flinch and grit his teeth. Despite the urge to curl up and Hephaestus pushed himself upright, biting his lip against the pain that radiated from his leg and back. With a frustrated grunt, he managed to get upright as he tried to catch his breath.\n\nFor what seemed like an eternity, he had endured the pain in stoic silence, refusing to show any sign of weakness. After all, he was the god of the forge, the master craftsman... He couldn't let them see him in such a vulnerable state. He knew that any shred of dignity he still possessed would be mercilessly stripped away if Ares were to discover just how bad it had truly become. Every day was a battle to maintain his composure and hide his suffering from those around him.\n\nHephaestus was well aware that he couldn't let his daughter, Callie, see him in such a state. She was thankfully away at the moment, which gave him at least a day to try and weather the worst of it in bed. He didn't want to worry her any more than she already did. After all, Callie was a devoted daughter who went above and beyond to take care of her father. He couldn't ask for a better child. And yet, Hephaestus couldn't shake off the guilt of being a burden on her. The thought weighed heavily on his heart as he lay in bed, surrounded by darkness and pain. But even in his weakened state, he couldn't deny how lucky he was to have such a caring daughter by his side.\n\nBut as much as he tried to gloss over and ignore he, he couldn't deny it any more- the pain was getting worse, and the flareups were becoming harder to manage. Deep down, he knew he couldn't manage it on his own anymore. Hephaestus knew he couldn't keep up the facade any longer.\n\nIt was time to admit that he needed help. He was exhausted from pretending, tired of hiding his agony behind a mask of strength. It was time to turn to his friend for assistance. He would have to swallow his pride and make the call he had been avoiding for so long- he needed Asklepios' help.\n\nHephaestus closed his eyes and tried to relax, gritting his teeth as another wave of pain hit him as he managed to drag himself out of the bed finally. It was definitely going to be a day of little productive work getting done at the forge. And with a resigned sigh, he picked up the seldom-used phone from the table by the bed and sent a text message off, one that should have been sent a long time ago really. With that finally done, all that was left for Hephaestus to do was wait.\n\n||" }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "Asklepios stood in the low light of his study, his hands methodically arranging the necessary medical supplies into an old, worn leather doctor's briefcase. The briefcase, scuffed and stained from years of service, held an assortment of bandages, herbs, vials of pain relief concoctions, and instruments essential for any medical emergency. Once satisfied with his packing, he slipped a smoking pipe into his coat pocket, its bowl still warm from earlier use, and headed out the door.\n\nThe journey to Hephaestus' forge was a quiet one, filled with a mixture of anticipation and concern. As he approached the familiar, smoke-filled workshop, the scent of molten metal and burning coal filled the air, reminding Asklepios of the many times he had made this trip under similar circumstances. He hadn't heard from his old friend in a while, so he was excited to see him. But he knew in his heart this was not a social call as much as it was a call for help. Hephaestus had always been stubborn when it came to this sort of thing. Why the man thought he needed to act invulnerable all the time was not something Asklepios understood.\n\nUpon arrival, Asklepios greeted Hephaestus with a warm but concerned expression. \"Hephaestus, my old friend, it's good to see you, though I wish it were under better circumstances,\" He said, placing a hand on his shoulder, his voice a mix of relief and frustration. He swiftly closed the distance between them, his concern deepening as he took in the paleness of Hephaestus' face. \"Why did you wait so long to call me? You know you shouldn't bear this alone.\"\n\nWithout waiting for an answer, Asklepios proceeded to check Hephaestus' vitals, his experienced hands moving efficiently. He felt his friend's pulse, noting the rapid beat that spoke of pain and stress, and checked his temperature with a practiced touch to his forehead. \"Tell me everything that's bothering you,\" He urged, his tone insistent as he looked into Hephaestus' weary eyes, seeking the truth beyond the physical symptoms.\n\nAsklepios would listen intently, nodding occasionally as he rummaged through his briefcase. His fingers found the familiar shape of a medicine bottle, and he pulled it out, checking the label before setting it aside. Each item he selected was chosen with care, intended to ease pain and bring some comfort to his old friend. The frustration lingered in his mind, but his primary focus was on alleviating the suffering before him. \"I'll fix you right up,\" He said, adding, \"Many of these herbs and concoctions come from my own garden. Tell me, how is your daughter?\"" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus sighed deeply as Asklepios tended to him, his broad shoulders slumping a little more as the façade fell in the presence of his old friend. He shook his head ruefully, a dry laugh escaping as he watched Asklepios work. \"You're right, of course old friend. I should have called you sooner. I didn't want to be a burden. But the pain has grown unbearable. My joints ache something fierce, especially my back and this leg.\"\n\nHe gestured to the brace on his right leg with the familiar and resigned look of simple acceptance. \" But I kept hoping the pain would fade on its own, as it usually does. Well the flare up at least, the chronic pain has become sort of an uneasy bedfellow after all this time. But you know me, not wanting to make a fuss or cause anyone any problems. I am sure you have enough keeping you busy without this broken body calling you way...\" \n\nAsklepios continued his examination, his skilled hands moving deftly over Hephaestus's back and limbs, murmuring to himself as he poked and prodded. He winced as Asklepios found the particularly tender spot along his back. \"The flare-ups have been getting worse\" He finally admitted. \"It started as a dull ache in the leg a few weeks ago. I thought it was just from standing at the forge too long when my back started locking up a bit more than usual. Tried taking it a little easier, but it's gotten worse... The worst are the damned headaches that have started up recently. The pounding and dizziness keeps me out of the forge more than I care to admit when the flareups hit.\"\n\nA strained smirk showed on the forge master's face as he looked at his friend. \"Guess I kinda failed on those instructions last time huh? What were they... 'Regular restoration, not just crisis management- the goal is to keep the flare-ups from worsening.' Guess that was one lesson this old dog hasn't learned yet\" Hephaestus said with an apologetic laugh as he remembered the last time he had called on Asklepios. Had it really been that long?\n\nHephaestus watched as Asklepios set out an assortment of vials and bottles and pouches. His skills with herbs and medicines were legendary and his ability to care for body and the mind as well. Hephaestus recalled with an almost fond smile how it was Asklepios who had helped him fashion what would be the first of many leg braces he would design and use over the millennia. How it had been his friend's support and encouragement way back when that had helped him not get bogged down in the mire of self-pity. From the very first time he had ever called on Asklepios for his help, he had been there. And that was something the forge god would always be grateful for.\n\nHis attention was drawn back from his memories, at the questions about Callie. A rare genuine smile crossed his worn face at the thought of his beloved daughter. \"Callie has been a true blessing Asklepios,\" He said, the smile still firmly in place. \"She has breathed new life into this forge and into me, as only a daughter can. Sadly she is away for a few days, but perhaps that is for the best... I feel she would be quite displeased with me at the moment if she were here\" He said with a somewhat sheepish look, knowing just how big of an understatement that was. \"But I trust you will be able to meet her soon enough.\"\n\n||" }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "Asklepios stood with a calm demeanor, observing his old friend Hephaestus. He watched his movements with the trained gaze of a physician. With a soft, empathetic smile, he said, \"You're not a burden, you know that,\" His voice a soothing balm, adding, \"It's always better to address these things before they get out of hand. You're not exactly in a line of work that is easy on the body. Especially at your age.\" With practiced ease, Asklepios laid out his tools—a mix of ancient instruments and bottles filled with various concoctions, all meticulously arranged. He started the examination by palpating gently along Hephaestus's limbs, his touch precise and calculated, seeking out the origins of pain. As his hands moved deftly over twisted muscles and swollen joints, he murmured softly to himself, noting areas that required special attention. Listening attentively, Asklepios responded to Hephaestus's description of his symptoms with nods and brief notes. \"We'll manage these symptoms,\" He reassured, selecting a vial from his collection. \"And we'll work on those preventive measures. Regular restoration, remember? It's not just about managing crises.\" His movements were fluid as he mixed herbs, grinding them with a mortar and pestle. The scent of lavender and chamomile filled the air, creating a calming atmosphere. \"Let's focus on easing the flare-ups and improving your overall comfort,\" He said, applying a poultice to the inflamed areas. His touch was gentle, each movement meant to alleviate pain without causing further distress.\n\nAsklepios then shifted the conversation to a lighter note. \"And how is Callie?\" He inquired, his interest piqued as he prepared another remedy. His hands were steady, his attention split between his task and Hephaestus's response. Smiling at the mention of Callie, he added, \"I look forward to meeting her. It sounds like she's taken after her father in spirit and talent.\" He sealed the bottle he was working with and set it aside. The session continued with Asklepios guiding Hephaestus through a series of gentle stretches designed to alleviate tension and improve mobility. \"These exercises will help,\" He advised, demonstrating each movement. \"Try to do them daily if you can.\" As he assisted Hephaestus in performing the stretches, Asklepios watched to see where his range of motion was at, his hands guiding and correcting positions gently. \"Good, that's perfect,\" He encouraged, a satisfied nod accompanying his words.\n\n\"Drink this. It will help with inflammation,\" He said, hanging him a vial of purple liquid. It wouldn't taste very good, but relief would be instant. As the therapy session drew to a close, and Asklepios began to pack away his instruments and medications. \"Thanks for trusting me with your care,\" He said warmly, meeting Hephaestus's gaze with a look of deep understanding and concern. \"Remember, I'm here whenever you need, just a call away.\" Asklepios handed him a small packet of herbs. \"Take these. They should help with the pain and inflammation,\" He instructed.\n\nWhen he was finished he took up a seat and dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. \"I can't wait to meet her.\"" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus sat as his friend worked, following his instructions and listening to his directions, all the while marveling yet again at how skilled his friend truly was at his craft. It was no surprise to the forge master, he had long called on his friend in the early days for this sort of thing. And as Asklepios worked, tending to the worst of the aches and pains, Hephaestus found himself wondering just why he HAD waited for so long to admit he needed help.\n\n\"I know I've been a fool, putting it off for this long\" Hephaestus admitted as he slowly worked through the stretches and exercises his friend led him through. \"You know my pride is hard and you yourself have said many times my stubbornness knows no bounds. I do apologize. I do not want it to seem that my reluctance to reach out is at all a slight to you my friend. You've always been a trusted friend and ally and I am truly grateful for everything, back then, and now\" He said with a small nod towards his friend. \n\nDeep down Hephaestus knew why he had grown so reluctant to reach out. The years of judgement, ridicule, abuse... But he knew Asklepios was different. His friend had always been a rare source of kindness and grace, never treating him like just the forge master everyone came to for their crafting needs. In this world of deception and manipulation, Asklepios stood out as one of the few who remained true and steadfast. Unlike many of his divine kin, Asklepios never deceived or manipulated - a rare trait among the gods nowadays.. And he deserved better.\n\nDeep down Hephaestus knew the main reason why he had stopped reaching out- to Asklepios, to most anyone else really. The feeling of emptiness and heaviness only seemed to worsen with the passing of time. Everything with Zeus and Hera, a loveless marriage, betrayal after betrayal with Ares and Aphrodite, being one of the few in Olympus with no heirs, and an identity tied so strongly to the forge that it was pretty much the only thing people saw him as...\n\nIt had gotten to be a lot, enough to make the light of the forge master start to dwindle. But in the past few years, something had changed. He had found a new source of joy and comfort, a new breath of life, of fresh air had come, one that he never thought he would experience. His daughter, Callie, had come into his life, and with her had brought a new sense of purpose and belonging. \n\n\"I never thought I'd have a daughter like Callie,\" Hephaestus chuckled to Asklepios as the god worked on his sore muscles. \"She's an incredible blacksmith, just like her old man.\" \"You must be proud,\" Asklepios replied as he finished up, giving his friend a small smile. \"I am,\" Hephaestus nodded, a smile spreading across his face. \"But it's not just her talent that makes me proud. It's her kind and gentle spirit. She's been through a lot as a demigod, but she never let it taint her heart. It is such a rare thing...\" Hephaestus said with a sigh as he closed his eyes. \"But I'm grateful that so many are showing her love and acceptance, that she's getting a better experience than I did. It's made all the difference I think in her adapting to this new life.\"\n\nHe couldn't imagine his life without her now, and it filled him with both fear and joy. \"I never thought I would ever have a family, after everything with Aphrodite... Let alone one that I couldn't bear to lose. Callie coming into my life has turned everything upside down.. In the best possible way. I would have it no other way honestly. We have had our moments of head-butting, she definitely has her old man's stubbornness and the sharp whit and smarts of her mother\" Hephaestus said with a fond smile. \"With everything going on, the war and everything else, it is nice to be reminded that there are good things in the world still, that there is still something good worth fighting for, worth protecting, worth living for. It's been... A nice change of focus\" He confessed with a smile.\n\nHephaestus looked at his friend as he finished and sat down and gave Asklepios a genuine appreciative smile. \n\nHephaestus smiled warmly at his friend, grateful for the healing touch and kind words. The pains of his body had subsided under Asklepios' ministrations and even the deeper hurts of his spirit felt less overwhelming and less suffocating as well. It brought him comfort to speak so openly of his daughter Callie, the surprising joy who had entered his life when he thought all capacity for love was burned away.\n\n\"I hope you will be able to meet her next time you come by to check on my stubborn ass\" Hephaestus said with a knowing smile. \"Hopefully sooner rather than later.\"\n\n||" }, { "author": "industrialisland", "message": "Asklepios wrapped up his work, having tended to the worst of Hephaestus' aches and pains. The god of medicine then gently eased himself down into an adjoining seat, retrieving a well-worn wooden pipe from his pocket. He filled the bowl with fragrant herbs, struck a flame, and began to puff thoughtfully, the sweet smelling smoke curling into the air. As he settled, his gaze was calm and observant. \"I appreciate your words, Hephaestus,\" Asklepios responded after a long, thoughtful draw from his pipe. \"And no apology needed; we all have our paths to walk, our burdens to bear.\" His voice was soothing, carrying a timbre of wisdom and patience; he was a deity who had seen much suffering and had offered much relief. Asklepios took another slow puff from his pipe, his eyes narrowing slightly now as he contemplated. The smoke seemed to mirror his thoughts, drifting and opaque. \"The war among our kin is troubling, and news does reach my ears though I try to remain apart from their conflicts,\" He began, his voice bearing a hint of sorrow. \"Zeus remains ever the thunderer, seeking dominion and asserting his will across the realms. His strategies are bold, often reckless, drawing many into the fray. It is difficult not to ultimately blame Poseidon for this mess, though. Hades remains neutral, but we will see how long that lasts.\" He paused, considering his next words carefully. \"He's been consolidating power within the underworld, fortifying his domain against potential threats. There's a quiet calculation to his actions, a stark contrast to his brother's bluster.\" Asklepios' gaze drifted off, as if peering into unseen depths.\n\nThe healer sighed softly, setting his pipe aside. \"It is a chessboard, and we are in a storm of moves and countermoves. It concerns me, the impact all this will have on the mortal realm—on those who have no shelter from the whims of gods.\" Asklepios' eyes met Hephaestus' then, a shared understanding passing between them. \"But let us not dwell too deeply on what we cannot control. Tell me more about your daughter, Callie. It's heartening to hear of new joy found amidst old ruins.\" With a smile, he leaned forward and offered his pipe to Hephaestus, saying, \"I grew these herbs myself. They will help settle your nerves and put your mind at ease. At our age, that is a blessing, especially in these difficult times. I tell you, I worry about what kind of world we're leaving behind for your daughter and my sister, Aurora. She is too good for this world.\"" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus leaned in, his ears perking up as his good friend spoke. With each nod of his head, he showed that he was listening intently to the words spoken with a heavy heart. They both knew that the ego-measuring contest had taken hold of everyone, even those who wanted nothing to do with it. The weight of it all hung heavy in the air between them, as if the very gods themselves were struggling under its burden.\n\n\"The divine realm has become a cauldron of unrest, bubbling with the constant clashes between Zeus and Poseidon, their feud never-ending. And lurking on the fringes is Hades, the unpredictable wildcard in this endless game of power. Countless wars have ravaged our realm, but this one feels different. This time, I fear that it may be the final blow to the already tenuous balance we have managed to hold onto for so long. But this time, I fear... I feel that this war may finally be the tipping point that upset the already strained balance.\" \n\nHephaestus gazed at Asklepios, his old friend who shared his weariness of the ongoing conflict. They both knew how it had torn families and friendships apart, and how it forced people to take sides. But they also shared the belief that the whole thing was senseless, with neither side holding a moral high ground. The weight of this understanding hung heavy between them, like a thick fog that refused to lift. Yet, despite the heaviness, there was also a glimmer of hope - that one day, the conflict would end and they could all come together as one again.\n\n\"You know well that if I had it my way I would never find myself caught in the middle of my uncle's conflicts. My loyalty to Zeus is strenuous at best but it is there. Of the sides in this conflict, I still feel he is the lesser of the evils, which truly is not saying much. But this war... More so than most I can recall, it is taking its toll on us all,\" He said as he ran his fingers along the etchings of the cane in his hands.\n\n\"I can't help but wonder... How much longer will it go on? Will Olympus ever know peace again?\" The lines on his weathered face deepened slightly. These questions plagued him day and night as he continued to forge weapons for the gods' endless battles, trying not to think to what end most of them would be used for.\n\n\"The war has been dragging on forever. I can't see an end in sight. Remember when the gods were a united front? Now look at them, bickering and divided. It breaks my heart... This place used to be my sanctuary. The walls filled with tools and weapons, the smell of burning metal... It was my haven. But even here, the war has seeped in. My inventions, meant for creation, have been twisted and turned into weapons for this endless conflict.\" \n\nHe paused, a slightly sad look crossing his face. Gratefully he took the offered pipe, taking a few slow puffs as he tried to calm his mind and still \"But I can't stop creating. It's who I am. And in this chaos, it's the one thing that brings me peace, working on something new, designing and creating, spending time here in the forge with Callie... It is one of the few things the fates have granted me as a blessing\" He said with a small genuine smile as he looked at his dear friend and took another few puffs from the pipe before handing it back. \"It truly is the young ones today who offer the best hope for a future better than what we are giving them today\" Hephaestus said with a small nod as he looked around the forge. \"Being able to share this place with others again... Callie, Arsenio, Alastor, Aurora, Hestia... It's nice to not feel quite so alone for once.\"\n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "The Artisan's Quarter is a district within Hephaestus Forge, featuring rows of workshops and studios where skilled craftsmen practice their trades. From sculptors creating divine statues to jewelers crafting intricate accessories, this quarter celebrates the diversity of artistic endeavors inspired by the god of craftsmanship." }, { "author": "Arsenio Vairnon", "message": "*'We'll talk later. I have to go for now before I'm late.'* \n\nArsenio had smirked down at Hyacinthus, parting ways from their make out session just before he had run into Douglas. \nAnd afterwards, he was in a sour mood. \nHis bike helmet had been cracked from where he hit that idiot in the head with it. Thankfully his knuckles weren't bleeding, but were extremely sore. \nHe'd wrapped them so he could atleast grab the blow pipe and turn it - even though it was a delicate movement. It required the dexterity he didn't quite have right after a full out brawl. Healing would he slow unless he slowed down. \n\nArsenio had left for dinner, and then returned to the Artisan's Quarter late. He hadn't been checking his phone and had plenty missed messaged from Hyacinthus.\nHe's been so wrapped up in trying to reel his anger and frustration, and pour it into something productive that he just hadn't been easy to reach all day. \nIt was night time, now.\n\nSorry. Didn't mean to dip.\nGot into a fight in the square in the Ares' plaza by none other than Ares' fucking kid.\nDon't really know what his problem was. \n\nArsenio gave texting a break, standing to go and retrieve some coffee. He was glad to finally giving his hands something warm to hold onto that wasn't scorching. \nIn the background, he listened to hum of the crucible, constantly heating and keeping the glass molten. The caffeine was needed.\nHe felt his phone vibrate against the top of his thigh and unlocked it to read Hya's message, surprised that he was still awake. \nHe wasn't used to the God's that needed only a quarter of the rest that he needed.\n\nI'm down in the AQ if you want to join.\n\n||" }, { "author": "@ Hyacinthus", "message": "For Hyacinthus, the day had different connotations. The time he'd spent with Arsenio had led to a breakthrough in his circumstances, helping him bridge the gap that formed between his understanding of mortals, or those who lived in proximity to them, and his indifference to what had become of them. He was kind, he was accommodating, but more than that, he was *Indulgent.* A treat so sweet and so unstinting that the small amount of time they spent together over the last few weeks, however fleeting, had realised him to one obvious fact. \n\nHe used to be one of them. \n\nNow, at least, he remembered what the thrill of adventure truly felt like.\n\nArsenio, for all his camaraderie, struck that chord perfectly in the young god he had become so fond of. Their rendezvous grew quickly from a few stolen pecks to a full-blown make-out session that spanned hours against the backdrop of the view of Ares' Plaza, where warriors practised their craft in the grandeur of their patron. Had he not been so distracted by Arsenio's magnetism, Hyacinthus would have had far more time to focus on the romance of the location. But as perfect as it *Was,* He knew that all dreams came to an end - even if temporarily.\n\n📱: *I know. I will see you soon, Arsenio. Here's one last kiss so that you don't forget. 💋*\n\nThe boys parted ways reluctantly, but their next meeting was organised beforehand. Hyacinthus returned to his cottage and Arsenio left promptly in kind, but soon found himself at odds with none other than the son of Ares, whose distaste for seeing his father's sacred land twisted into a playground of sin led him to confront his counterpart with haste. After a brief escalation of words, the two demigods began to trade blows, ending in what could only be described as carnage.\n\nAt his cottage, the young god reminisced on his day and the demigod he'd spent it with. He lost himself in remembrance of their time in the sunshine, safely tucked away up where nobody could see them - or so they *Thought.* The sun bathed his soft skin in a golden glow as their lips locked in a slow dance of growing fire, threatening to lay waste to everything surrounding them with the blazing stroke of its heat. In those moments, he knew only the sounds of Arsenio's low voice, but a whisper by his ear.\n\n📱: *Hello, Captain. I hope you drove safely.*\n\nThe touch of his calloused fingers as they traced daringly against the skin of the god's neck. \n\n📱: *I am worried about you, Nio.*\n\n\nAnd the sound of his breath as it hitched at Hyacinthus' fingers tracing softly over the skin on the back of his neck.\n\nEventually, the harrowing wait for *Any* Signal was over. He was ok, but still reeling from his altercation with Doug. Thankfully, it did not take long for the young god to arrive and meet him at the Forge, where he arrived as invited in a small flash of golden light and the sound of sweet birdsong which tweeted and chirped in the dead of night. There before him stood Arsenio, his bruised knuckles wrapped and clutched around a hot cup of coffee. Hyacinthus closed their distance immediately, keeping his voice soft as he cradled the back of the demigod's sore hand.\n\n**\"I know what you're going to say,\"** His voice was sweet and honeyed, a little smile creeping over his face as he tilted his head back and glanced up at him. **\"That I should see the other guy. I'm sure that he looks far worse.\"** He chuckled and gave him a look of understanding. **\"I won't ask a thousand questions. But I am going to stay here with you.\"**" }, { "author": "Arsenio Vairnon", "message": "Arsenio looked up from the cup of coffee, startled. The golden light and birdsong, however brief was not something that he was used to hearing or seeing in the dead of night... Much less a God teleporting to him. \nIt was only a method of transportation, but not one that the demigod was used to seeing. He was still a peoduct of modernity, where Gods and Mortals rarely mingle, and everyone drove in traffic.\nHowever, it was hard to stay perplexed at Hyacinthus as he enveloped his hands around his own. His knuckles throbbed under the touch, but it wasn't anything he hadn't felt before.\n\nHot light from the crucible of glass nearby illuminated the both of them, and Arsenio had been quietly studying the God up until this point. \nHe sipped his coffee.\n\n**\"I would have, but you have a way of stealing words right of my mouth before I can get a chance to say them. We're not a mind reader, are you?\"** \nA little glimmer of humor caught the reflection of Arsenio's chestnut colored eyes.\n\n**\"What had you so worried if you knew I'd kick his ass?\"** He questioned, a smirk pulling up one side of his lips, looking down at the other male.\nThere was something inherently calming about the God, and it still felt unreal to have the attention of such a figure. \nIt was safe to say that their situationship was offering him some semblance of normalcy, but also constantly reminding him of where he stood: among Gods. \nHis life was changing, and deep down... He didn't know what to do with any of it. \n\n**\"I never thought fighting Ares' son would feel like a regular Tuesday,\"** He shook his head a bit, glancing to the glowing orange of molten glass to the right of them. \n\n**\"Have you ever fought another God?\"**\n\n||" }, { "author": "Hyacinthus", "message": "The Forge was alive with the sound of fire and rust, its light searing through the darkness outside like a raging inferno. Dancing inside the glass, the flames moved erratically and cast undulating shadows against the rough-hewn walls as both boys stood in a secluded corner. Both their figures were silhouetted against the vibrant blaze; Arsenio's tall and broad-shouldered, and Hyacinthus' smaller and more slight. \n\nThe warmth of the forge's fire caressed them both as the tang of metal and the smoky scent of burning coal, mingled with the scent of grass and fresh air. Inside the young god's hands, Arsenio's red knuckles throbbed with the pangs of pain, which prompted his smaller companion to loosen his grip. Slowly but surely, he grazed the pad of both of his thumbs across their ridged and chiselled shape, doing his best to soothe how swollen they had become. \n\n**\"I promise I'm not,\"** The violet-eyed boy said with a gentle smile, letting out an audible chuckle. **\"I can see memories, but I would never dare to invade a person's privacy without permission.\"** He saw the glint of mischief in the hunk's eye, returning Arsenio's smirk with a more sincere look. **\"Especially not yours. I would** ***Never*** **Do that to you, Nio.\"**\n\nHe let his eyes linger for a beat to drum home his point, hoping Arsenio would truly believe him. He understood the risk he ran earning the boy's suspicion by clarifying that he could indeed see inside people's heads, but the exact details as to how were important to make known. Consent aside, his connection with the demigod ran so deep that he could empathise and understand his feelings with just a mere exchange of words. \n\nWhen Arsenio joked about his fight with Douglas, the smaller boy tipped his head back and glared at him invitingly. As much as demigod struggled with his hotheaded nature, Hyacinthus did not find it quite as alarming. A difference in perspective, perhaps, characterised by his predisposition for empathy, the god saw it merely as passion and verve, which simply needed to be fine-tuned at times. Arsenio was many things, but a bad person he was not.\n\n**\"I suppose I worry about you.\"** He smiled. **\"I know you don't need my help. I know your strength better than anyone.\"** On the back of his head in the bathroom the night they met at the party. **\"Physically, you make it seem like you're the god here instead of me. But I know how losing your temper affects you...\" ** He trailed off gently, trying his hardest not to seem judgemental or presumptuous. **\"I don't like to think about you being alone when you feel that way. Even if I'm glad you kicked his ass.\"**\n\nIt went silent momentarily as the evening wind whistled and swept past both of them, tossing the tousled brown curls on top of the god's head. **\"Have** ***I*** **Ever fought a god?\"** Hyacinthus asked. **\"Maybe once or twice. But that isn't nearly as sexy as watching you throw a punch. Where were you when I was learning close-quarters combat back in Sparta?\"**\n\n||" }, { "author": "Arsenio Vairnon", "message": "The taller arched an eyebrow, listening to Hya's abilities. As he called him \"Nio\", and watched his expression surf on the too perfect features of the God, Arsenio was all too aware that this... Was loosening boundaries. \nBut he had to question whether or not there were really any boundaries to begin with. \nThere weren't any words when they'd first met, just locked eyes and the innate need to wrap their arms around eachother as they moved on the dance floor. \nThe kisses came soon after. The demigod sipped his coffee, remembering the taste of pomegranate liquor and lemon and ginger beer. Though his coffee wasn't nearly as good that night had tasted, especially whatever drink it had been on the God's tongue.\nThere were no boundaries to be found as he hoisted Hyacinthus up and pressed him against the stall of the club bathroom. He really hadn't meant to hurt the God, and he felt so bad, he was apologizing while kissing him.\n\nThere hadn't been any boundaries the second time they'd met up, finding a shadowed place to tongue tango for a little while. \nEven now, as Arsenio looked into pearlescent purple hues, he knew the other man would taste just as good the third time. \n\nJust something to drink or chew on wasn't all he saw in Hyacinthus, but for the first time... He found himself in a position he didn't think he'd find himself before.\n\nArsenio found himself grinning as the other aksed him where he was when he was learning combat in Sparta. \n\n**\"I don't even think I was a thought in my dad's pants,\"** He chuckled, hiding his smile with his coffee momentarily.\nThen it was quiet for another beat and Arsenio leaned back on a table with one hand holding him up, and the coffee cup was used to gesture.\n\n**\"You worry alot about someone who's just a hook up-\"** He tested, not quite meeting Hyacinthus' eyes\n\nYet, but instead, finding the blaze of the crucible and staring just around the mouth of the opening, idly noting the glass that had fallen to the concrete. \n\n||" }, { "author": "Hyacinthus", "message": "Arsenio's countenance told a different story to the words that left his lips. The first thing that the young god noticed was the shift in his expression from kind to indifferent, clearly feigned in what he surmised was an attempt to combat the uncertainty of their changing relationship. His words wounded him, but Hyacinthus did not show it, alleviating the pangs of hurt that began to take root in his chest. Hopefully, he thought to himself, Arsenio was scared and did not mean it.\n\n**\"Maybe not,\"** He said with an amused grin as the taller boy joked. **\"But I will pretend not to be offended at you calling me old. Would you believe me if I told you I was a skilled warrior?\"** Hyacinthus asked, a look of curiosity washing over his rosy, handsome face. **\"Not the best, but certainly good with a sword.\"** There was a pause, followed by a shy smile that grew across his lips. **\"Not in that way either.\"**\n\nBoth boys went quiet for a moment. Silence crept in as the ambience of their environment punctuated it, the sounds of the Forge seeming louder than they ordinarily were. The young god let his violet eyes drift down from Arsenio's, following the veins in his neck until they rested on the collar of his shirt as the boy leaned back against the table behind him. No such stranger to the art of courtship, it was obvious to both of them that their relationship was beginning to shift. What began as a brief, lust-filled encounter in a club grew into the occasional late-night rendezvous over the month or so, propelling the god and demigod into something a little more than either of them had anticipated.\n\nArsenio it seemed was apprehensive, but Hyacinthus knew that for him, navigating the complexities of sex, love, and relationships was very different. When *He* Had been a mortal, his susceptibility to succumb to fear during his adventures with Apollo was just as potent; he often found himself dissuaded from confronting the growing romance that blossomed between them. Over the millennia, however, he had come to understand himself somewhat better and found peace and acceptance with the fact he was truly a romantic who longed to once again experience the blissful joy of love. \n\n**\"I know.\"** He said quietly as Arsenio's scathing remark cut deep, the evening breeze casting caramel curls across his forehead as the wind whistled with a wistful whisper. **\"But I suppose it's a little pointless trying to pretend I don't. I've never been a good liar. But no, Nio,\"** His eyes returned to find the taller boy's pair, which were fixed on the mouth of the fiery crucible. **\"I don't like to think about you being alone with your anger. Is that wrong?\"** \n\nIt went quiet again. Rather than getting lost in his own head, Hyacinthus let his eyes drift to the mouth of the crucible too, chewing idly on the inside of his bottom lip. **\"I'm sorry. I'll stop. So what was it that set Douglas off? I didn't think a son of Ares was silly enough to let a kiss between two people he hardly knows bother him.\"**" }, { "author": "Arsenio Vairnon", "message": "Arsenio's gaze drifted back between them, but not yet to Hyacinthus' face. It hovered in the few inches of space between them. A space that felt cold and void even with the crucible lighting up in the area in a warm glow. \nThe demi god couldn't pretend that he didn't understand what Hyacinthus was offering him when he asked that question. It sounded like safety: the kind of sacrifice people in relationships give for their significant others when they know things will be hard. \n\nAfter a moment, and letting Hyacinthus speak, Arsenio suddenly cut in before he could really finish. He's cut in between the words \"Let a kiss...\"\n\n**\"I asked.\"** \nHe started, but realized that he didn't really put in any context. \n\n**\"I don't want to talk about Douglas or Ares or anything of that- mostly because I didn't ask. I just... Threw punches.\"** \nThe taller man seemed somewhat exasperated by his own actions, and simultaneously at peace with them. \n\n**\"But what I had asked or rather said - was in relation to...\"** \nThere was no better way to put it, and finally Arsenio met Hyacinthus' eyes. \n\n**\"...Us.\"** \n\nArsenio set his coffee cup down, reaching up to gently pull Hyacinthus' lip from the pinch of his teeth. He lewned forwards just a little bit, watching those violet eyes watch him in return.\n \nOther than stating the obvious fact about them, he didn't know what else to say. Maybe he wanted Hyacinthus to continue to confirm that this wasn't just some hook up now, or situationship or whatever word people used for \"Non traditional relationship\" Nowadays. \n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": "awkwardish", "message": "Location: Heph's Forge\nWho: Hephaestus and Dinlas\nWhen the cool uncle and the edgy nephew join forces..." }, { "author": "Dinlas", "message": "It was nice to see they'd have some privacy from those loitering peasants. Dinlas wondered how hard Hephaestus worked those poor souls under the sweltering heat of the forge. How many burned themselves accidentally? Smashed a finger or two? Collapsed from heat exhaustion? Surely, Uncle Heph wouldn't keep such lousy company—that is if it were entirely up to him. Perhaps some of the lot were there against either of their wills, forced to toil away at the anvil until their arms fell from the bone. But enough daydreaming, Dinlas was here on business.\n\"Ugh, don't even mention that son-of-a-bitch!\" The God of Chaos rolled his eyes at the mention of his father. Secretly, deep down, he admired the war god's ambition. An ambition he certainly inherited. Dinlas followed his uncle to the stone bench he was motioned over towards, hands in his pockets. \n\"Things are pretty quiet down there, too damn quiet if you ask me, but,\" He jut his chin up into the air dramatically, \"It's not up to me, now is it?\" Of course, if things were to take a turn in the Underworld, say, they entered the conflict, Dinlas would most certainly find something else to complain about. \n\"Anyways, I have some business with the *Old cripple* Of the family.\" He said, echoing Hephaestus. \"If there's some room left on that big ass plate of yours, I'd like to request a... Favor. Nothing big, nothing crazy, just a little insurance, if you get what I mean?\"" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus grinned at Dinlas' response, seeing the fire in his eyes. \"Everyone always has business with the forge master,\" He chuckled. \"Cant say I mind it, keeps the mind and hands busy which is always a good thing.\" He looked over at his nephew as he reached up and stroked his beard thoughtfully. \"But insurance, you say? Ah, something to protect yourself perhaps? I have quite the selection here, you know. Armor, weapons... Or perhaps something to help you harness your strength and chaotic energy? I could make you a weapon, something custom designed just for you. Something special, unique, that channels your natural aggression and anger into controlled power. There's no shortage of options for what can be made.\" \n\nHephaestus gestured around the forge with a wave of his arm, motioning to the various tools and metals scattered about. \"We've got Divine Steel of course, Celestium, Aouramedim, Shadow Steel, Titan Bone, and Promethium. \" Hephaestus paused for dramatic effect before continuing after a sly grin. \"Of course, there's also options for tips, points, and finishes made from Dragon Glass, Sea Shard, Star Gold, Devine Silver, and Void Crystals.\" The Forge God paused there, watching for Dinlas' reaction, knowing good and well some of those were of a rare and somewhat volatile nature- at least in the hands of a lesser craftsman. But he was the blacksmith of the gods, it was what he did and there was yet to be a material he couldn't eventually bend to his will and shape or fashion in some way.\n\nHephaestus's attention turned then to the expansive collection of items that adorned the walls and tables of the forge. There were axes, maces, daggers, swords of all shapes and sizes – some simple and utilitarian while others were intricately designed with piercing points or serrated edges that looked more suited for gutting enemies than actually cutting through metal. There were bows and crossbows too, restrung and ready for action; quiversful of arrows. A couple staffs and spears had recently been finished, each adorned with a tip that gleamed brightly in the dancing light of the forge.\n\n\"Are you looking for something close range like daggers or a more versatile and ranged weapon? I can fashion a bo staff of sorts for you. Or anything else you have in mind can easily be fashioned for you and you alone.\" Hephaestus smirked, knowing whatever it was his nephew was really after, chances were he could make it.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Dinlas", "message": "Could it be? Was Dinlas actually enjoying his time on the surface? No, it can't be. He *Hated* It up here. He hated most things—that was his whole deal—but the hectic craze of the forge and its palatable master seemed to lessen the agony of existing. Hephaestus was powerful, but always in control. Dinlas truly admired his uncle, not just for the skilled artisan he was, but for the man's reasonability—a trait seldom found among the almighty. \n\"You know me so well,\" A smile grew across Dinlas' face at the mention of his chaotic energy, \"And you know I like options.\" \nThe younger god gleefully listened to Hephaestus as the craftsman listed his boundless inventory. A few caught Din's attention. Shadow Steel and Titan Bone seemed to 'coolest' in his mind, however, something about Promethium spoke to him as well. Of course, it goes without saying that Dinlas' smile grew wider at the mention of void crystals. \n\"Hah! You're spoiling me here, Unc.\" The man fidgeted where he sat, feet tapping, fingers intertwining and unlocking, eyes wild with possibilities. \n\"Shadow Steel, Titan Bone, Promethium... Some cool stuff ya got 'ere. Oh, and void crystals? Yes, please.\" \nHe would continue to stew over the choices presented to him: an axe? A mace? A set of daggers? Or maybe a crossbow? Hmm, probably not a bow.\n\n\"I'll have to go the melee route—not much for the whole distance thing. I like to get... Up close and personal, ya feel?\" Dinlas threw a few jabs and punches in the air, imitating a cage fighter. \"Besides, the whole 'bow and arrow' stuff is more Eros' thing, and I can't *Stand* That insufferable playboy.\" It was less an insult and more a factual statement, for Din was sure his estranged brother could hit apples off the heads of a hydra with a single arrow. No, showmanship was not the god of chaos' forte. \n\"I'm sure anything you cook up will be an absolute beast to wield. I'll leave the details up to the chef.\" Dinlas winked. He cast a long glance over the forge one more time, picking out all the glorious sharp objects and blunt weapons. Some of the work he saw looked almost too divine to be used in the barbary of war; they were one-of-a-kind artistic masterpieces like perhaps you'd see in a display case. What made these all the more better were that these were made to look *And* Touch. \n\"No rush or anythin', but do keep me updated, yeah?\" \n||" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus grinned as he watched his Nephew's eyes dance over the various options and considerations he offered. Hephaestus chuckled, his firm yet also gentle hand clapping Dinlas on the shoulder affectionately. \"Of course, my boy. The forge is always open to you, and I'll make sure the weapon selected for you becomes an extension of your chaotic might.\" \n\nHis gaze wandered over the assortment of weapons on display - some still glowing faintly with heat from recent forging, others bearing marks of wear and tear that only added to their battle-worn character. Each piece waiting for the master craftsman's touch to bring them back to life once more. Hephaestus turned back to Dinlas. \"And don't worry about any of the beautiful aesthetics that are added to your piece,\" He added with a wink, \"They'll still serve their purpose when it comes time to put them to good use.\" The smell of burning coal and hot iron mixed with the cooler scent of water from the nearby quenching pool, creating a unique aroma that both Dinals and Hephaestus likely found oddly comforting. \n\nThe forge master watched his nephew, the heaviness in his heart increasing as he thought about the life he'd been forced into. In a story far too familiar to Hephaestus, he knew Dinlas had been abandoned, regarded as not 'good enough' by his godly parents. It was bad enough the treatment shown to his nephew, but it was made all the worse in Hephaestus' mind considering it was Ares and Aphrodite who had committed that sin of abandoning their child. It was a big part of why Hephaestus had felt such a connection to Dinlas, despite his parentage, and had always tried to be there for him as much as he could.\n\nBlinking slightly, Hephaestus brought his thoughts back to the present as he looked at Dinlas with a small fond smile. \"I will have something for you by the end of the week most likely. But you are of course always welcome to come by before. Even if it not related to 'business' things\" He said with a small head tilt towards his nephew. \"I know you do not come up often, but I always do enjoy the visits and being able to catch up with you, Dinlas. Don't be a stranger, alright?\"\n\n||" }, { "author": "Dinlas", "message": "It was an odd feeling. What was it? Peace? Comfort? Contentment? He felt at ease. It felt wrong, but he couldn't help that warm fuzzy feeling from worming it's way into his core like a parasitic insect into a shining ripe apple. Sure, the forge itself seemed to pulse with the light of glowing embers, but there was a special kind of warmth in the Hephaestus' cracked smile; the way his quiet chuckles bubbled up from his chest with a smooth finish found only in top shelf whiskey. \n\nNah, couldn't be. It was most likely the excitement from hearing how soon his new toy would be completed. That tantalizing rush of adrenaline as he takes it for a test drive—that was surely what Dinlas was feeling. Nothing else could bring his bastard self this much joy. Certainly not spending quality time with palatable family. \n\"A week is nothing compared to the *Millenia* This thing will serve me. Ah, it's like I can hear it now: their screams as they realize it's far too late to bow down and beg for forgiveness.\" Dinlas softly shut his eyes as he swayed and hummed in delight at the disasters dancing in his pieced together mind. A beautiful sight accompanied by a symphony of terror; everything crashing and burning. \n\n\"Maybe.\" Dinlas was pulled from his fantasies. \"I guess I could show up from time to time.\" He cast a long thoughtful gaze across the forge. It wasn't too bad—being up here and all that—not so bad to leave him brooding in the Underworld as per usual. \"Yeah, alright, I'll come by sometime, but to be clear: I'm only doing this for you, Unc, not because I *Like it* Up here or anything.\" The angsty god grumbled, hopping up from where he was seated besides Heph. \"Fuck, maybe even before it's ready... Just to check in on the process, y'know.\" Dinlas scratched his nose. \"Guess uh, we're done here then? I'll... See ya later?\" He was bad with goodbyes, unless it was an Irish Goodbye—those he was great at. Effortlessly, even. \n\n||" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus grinned at his nephew and gave a small nod. He wasnt going to make things too awkward with drawn out goodbyes, but he was going to wave Dinlas over. \"It has been far too long since your last visit, at least give your old Unc a hug to hold me over till you decide to drop by again huh?\"\n\nThe forge god held out one arm and gave a crooked grin as he saw his nephew roll his eyes slightly even as he walked over. Giving Dinlas a quick hug, Hephaestus managed to drop a little something into his pocket, hopefully to not be discovered until later when his nephew was back in the darkness of the Underworld. It was a simple silver ring, plain enough at first glance. But etched into it in fine engraved script almost too intricate to see, there were the words to a simple incantation. \n\nBlessing and enchanting the things he made was far from rare, but this simple ring in particular had received special attention. Whether Dinlas would wear it or not Hephaestus left up to him, but if he chose to, the ring would hopefully provide him with bit of protection, a little boost to luck, and a slight shift of odds should Dinlas find himself in a tight spot. Hephaestus knew his nephew and his temper and his rage and he also knew there was no way to turn that off or change it. It was who Dinlas was and to ask that of him would be cruel and heartless- none of them could be anything other than what they were. \n\nBut the forge god cared deeply for Dinals, seeing him as more of a son in many ways than simply a nephew.Even when he could not be there to keep an eye on him, Hephaestus wanted to do what he could to help him, even in a small way. With a fond smile and nod he let go and watched as Dinlas let the forge, watching him disappear out of sight before turning back to the fires with a soft sigh. He definitely was going to have his work cut out for him with this special order!\n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "A popular establishment within Hephaestus Forge is the Pyrosmith's Pub, where gods and craftsmen unwind after a day of labor. The pub exudes an industrial charm, with furnishings crafted from celestial metals and walls adorned with relics of divine craftsmanship. Gods share tales of their creations over ambrosial drinks, forging bonds in the spirit of camaraderie." }, { "author": "Donny 'Chimera' Alvarez", "message": "*\"Yeah parking was a nightmare, y'know? Like, it was so overcrowded and-\"*\n\nThe incessant rambling went on, Donny was mouthing off in the ear of a woman, who didn't really seem that interested in what he had to say. She realized that behind the pretty face, he didn't really have a personality, and if he did, it was that of a plank of wood, like a four by four maybe. The moment he turned away, she was gone. Another one bites the dust, he was baffled by how often he strikes out, but you can't call it the game of life if you don't lose some times, right? Feeling in part defeated, like he lost the past dozen rounds, he asked for another round from the bartender. \n\n*\"Thanks, appreciate it.\"* He said, slamming down the shot glass after guzzling it down. \n\nSat on the barstool, his arms leaning on the counter, awkwardly adjusting the way he was sitting, then tapping his fingers along the bar countertop. Then, whistling, he began to realize how painstakingly silent it was when he wasn't talking, as if everyone else here was having their own isolated conversations, having great times with one another. Not needing to constantly exude this stellar, unjustified overconfidence in every sentence they spewed. They just enjoyed the moment. These thoughts were quickly remedied with another shot of whiskey. He always liked the taste of the fruit based drinks more, but that didn't fit the machismo he wanted to represent well. \n\nWhen will he learn?" }, { "author": "Laci Rodriguez - Demigod", "message": "Donny Alvarez.\n\nLaci repeated the name of her new target over and over in her head until she memorized it. Still she had a name not his appearance. If only ghosts could share memories, half her job would be made a lot easier. At least the male spector knew where his son was located, it was why he was in Olympian, he had followed Donny there and upon learning there were individuals that could see him, he \"Tracked\" Laci down. At least he was better than the Karen Ghost. He was someone in actual need of help and not one just wanting to vent to the only person that could hear them. \n\nThe closer she got to the pub, a place he informed her Donny was likely to be at, the louder the engine of her motorcycle echoed down the street. Oh how she loved the new bike. It really was worth the money (now she was essentially broke again) but it was definately worth it. Laci rarely splurged on herself and this was one of those rare \"It's so shiny i must have it\" Moments where she didn't stop herself from the rash decision. With one last rev she came to a stop right in front of one of the Pub's windows so any patrons looking out would notice her arrival. The image of her feminine form getting off the bike and removing her helmet letting long locks of fiery red hair flow free, a shake of her head to loosen up some strands. \n\n-\n\nCarrying the helmet under her arm she entered the establisment and immediatly greeted the bartender. A friendly wave and smile flashed in his direction as she moved to sit at the counter, eyes casually glossing over the place as the ghost whispered out \"Thats him\" Practically flailing in the direction his son was sitting. She had to hold back a laugh because it was indeed quite the sight when ghosts acted this way and she was the only one seeing it. Her eyes lingered on Donny' practically locking with his before turning and sitting at the counter. How to approach him? This was always the hassle. Sure she was friendly and could be social but she had introverted tendencies, not being one to suddenly jump in. She needed a moment to think. In the mean time she asked the bartender to make her a margarita. If she hadn't misheard the dead father hovering over her shoulder, it was her sons favorite. She needed some form of opening. This could be it?" }, { "author": "Donny 'Chimera' Alvarez", "message": "*\"Can I get another please?\"*\n\nStill in the same spot, still in the same slouched over, defeated position he was in for the past fifteen or so minutes since he had entered the bar, unmoved, the only thing that seemed to significantly change was the number of shot glasses that accumulated since him arriving to now. Seeming to grow at a near exponential rate, shooting from one to seven rather swiftly, and the whiplash his body faced was evident in his lazy stupor that began to develop. Though, he was always able to hold his liquor well enough, it was moreso him holding back the urge to regurgitate and vomit, whiskey sucked. Only did he lift his head when he heard a new voice, one that wasn't tuned out like the rest.\n\nCatching a glance, he said to himself nothing but, *\"Damn.\"* Under his breath.\n\nHe took a deep inhale, ran his hands down his jacket, trying to prepare himself to make a move. Noticing how she locked into his eyes before she went about her own, he decided to approach her. What's the worst that could happen? Slipping on spilt beer, probably, then faceplanting. Looking down at the floorboards before he got up and walked over, sitting at the nearest stool to Laci, with a distinct aroma of car grease and alcohol. Running his hand through his hair, then calling over for the bartender, simply saying,\n\n*\"Can I get one of what she's having, please?\"*\n\nAfter a few minutes, as the bartender had to get through a few others before him, he finally got his margarita, turning to face Laci, taking a sip, he realized it was a margarita.\n\n*\"Nice pick, you have good taste in drinks.\"*\n\nHe motioned outside.\n\n*\"And if that bike I heard outside was yours, you definitely have good taste in transportation.\"*" }, { "author": "Laci Rodriguez - Demigod", "message": "Of course locking eyes worked and got his attention, it was what his father suggested she do, knowing his son would likely try his luck. Some information Laci could have done without but well... Sometimes ghosts overshared, be it their own personal lives, the lives of their loved ones or the realisation they could spy wherever and whoever doing whatever without be caught! The things Laci heard were many times images she didn't know how or wanted to process in her mind. \n\nThis was far from her first rodeo so she sat facing the bartender as Donny made his approach. Even if she hadn't heard him, his father was giving it away with nervous \"He's coming. Get ready. Oh he's so close. Oh no... He's loaded on shots already!?\" Or something along those lines, maybe with a slight nuance to his speech? Laci was admittedly not paying him too much attention, her mind focused on how to play this. Likely a bit by ear but she had various options in mind depending on the line of conversation. \n\nWhen he asked for same drink as her she didn't really acknowledge him nor say much, she just took her own magarita and brought her lips to the straw drawing in a soft sip. When he complimented her tastes in drinks she smiled and finally turned, or rathet swiveled the bench to look at him. By then he mentioned her bike. **\"Gracias\"** Laci thanked with a gentle smile\n\nTaking another sip of her drink she decided to take the margarita opening. **\"If such good drink why no order before?\"** Laci asked despite knowing the answer due to ghost daddy hovering over Danny's shoulder. **\"Laci.\"** She pointed to herself and then stretched out her hand in greeting for him to shake." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "*\"Her presence is like a mesmerizing spell, and I have lost myself within the depths of it...\"*" }, { "author": "Aphrodite.", "message": "❝ ⌜ What men call vanity, I call divinity. What men call lust, I call power. I was born of the sea, and like it, I shall show no mercy.⎯ ✶⌝ ❞\n \nTitle. [Siren](\nSetting. Hephaestus Forge.\nCharacters. APHRODITE, HEPHAESTUS.\nPings/Mentions. \nNotes:\n \n .𖥔˚.\n▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂\n_ _\n\nAphrodite, cloaked herself in the serene and modest guise of Hestia, golden hair draping across her shoulders as she moved gracefully through the quiet corridors leading to Hephaestus' forge. Keeping her nose from wrinkling to the smell that permeated the air of metal and molten fire, the rhythmic clang of hammer on anvil echoed through each stone wall she passed through. An amusing smirk playing across the innocent face of the goddess of the hearth. A simple silken dress of white draped across a body that really should have been shown off more. \"A shame, dearest Hestia, your modesty hides such beauty...\" Pleased with herself, Aphrodite moved to the place she had avoided so often within her marriage. Forced, had she been to hand herself over to the god of the forge and yet she felt the jealousy and spite surge through her at the information she had come across. Hephaestus had dared to lay wanting eyes on another. \n\nAnother, as he had the woman named Aphrodite chained to him in marriage. For years she had been forbidden from Ares, punished in the harsh words and nature of others every time she had dared to make love to him and yet Hephaestus had been allowed this mercy. Her virgin sister had moved to claim him, and only seen acceptance in return. A betrayal. A betrayal Aphrodite could not forgive so easily.\n\nShe stepped into the forge, her movements a delicate balance between Hestia's demure demeanor and her own inherent allure. The flickering firelight danced across her face, casting shadows that hid her true intentions. Hephaestus, engrossed in his work, didn't seem to notice her approach at first. His frame was silhouetted against the glowing forge, muscles rippling with each strike of his hammer. There was a time where Aphrodite had done her best to find the allure in this, in him, but she could never see past the bitterness at her being torn from Ares' side by the command of another. \n_ _\n\n\"Hephaestus,\" She called softly, her voice gentle and warm, mimicking Hestia's comforting tone. So soft was the heart of Hestia, that Aphrodite had practiced before approaching her still husband. Had practiced the chastity like actions of her sister. \n\nAphrodite moved closer, her eyes soft and inviting in her manipulation of the man. Toying with him had never been easier as the envy consumed the entirety of her thoughts. \"I wanted to talk to you, Hephaestus. I've been worried about you. You spend so much time here alone.\" Fingers hesitated to touch him, to place a hand on his arm, feeling the heat radiating from his body. It was something she could only assume Hestia would do, the opposite of Aphrodite's lustful allure. Aphrodite did not shy from the touch of another, to be touched by another, but Hestia...\n\nTilting her head in a delicate manner, her eyes glinting with a spark of falsified concern. \"Even the strongest in solitude need companionship sometimes...\" Her fingers moved to trace a delicate pattern along his arm, waiting for the tense in her approach, to her touch, so that she may fake a soft rouge to her cheeks and retreat her hand in embarrassment from his skin. \n\n\"I- I am sorry. I overstepped. I only- You deserve so much more Hephaestus and you seem so lo- I only wish to provide comfort.\" \n_ _\n\nShe moved closer, one cautious step after the other. Mimicking what she had learned in watching Hestia over centuries. Her dearest sister, so innocent in every movement and word, now in taken form by Aphrodite. Who was close enough to Hephaestus, her breath warm against his ear. \"You work so hard, Hephaestus. You deserve a moment to relax, to be cared for. Let me give you what you need, Hephaestus.\" Aphrodite leaned in, lips just a graze away from being claimed by the man Aphrodite had avoided time and time again. Brushing against him, her fingertips moved to linger against his cheek in a caress that was unlike any she had allowed him before in their years together.\n\nThe perfume mimicking the scent of Hestia so that it may consume his every thought. This was his fantasy, she could tell from her own powers within, and Aphrodite wished to give him a taste only to tear it from him in one swift movement. To show him that it was not so easy to run from the marriage they had both been cast within. To show him he may not leave her within their jail cell alone as he frolicked through the fields with another. \n▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "In the heart of that ancient, stone-walled forge, Hephaestus stood tall and mighty, his broad shoulders hunched over his latest creation. The glow of the fiery coals basked his figure in an almost otherworldly light. The air was thick with the pungent scent of molten metal, tinged with a hint of sulfur, and the rhythmic clang of hammer on anvil echoed through the workshop like a steady heartbeat. The Forge God's intense focus barely wavered as he poured all of his skill and passion into shaping this new masterpiece. A sense of power and energy seemed to emanate from him, feeding off the very essence of the forge itself, making it clear why he was the God of the Forge and the Blacksmiths of the gods.\n\nThe space was adorned with the tools of the trade, each one a symbol of mastery and dedication. Hammers, tongs, and chisels hung on the walls, well-used but meticulously cared for by their master craftsman. The flickering flames of the roaring forge fire cast dancing shadows across the space, illuminating the intricate details of the tools and creating an almost mystical atmosphere. Lanterns hung from iron hooks, their soft glow adding to the warmth and ambience. And in the corner, more glowing embers waited patiently to be brought to life under skilled hands. \n\nThis was a place of true craftsmanship, where every tool had a story to tell and every creation was a work of art. This was Hephaestus' space, his domain, the one place he could escape and find peace- despite the never-ending conflict that seemed to wage just outside the doors of the forge. Here he was free to just be... No pressures from Zeus, from Ares, from Aphrodite. No one telling him what he should be or ridiculing what and who he was. Here he was free to simply be himself and to lose himself in his work. Beads of sweat glistened on his furrowed brow, mingling with the grime that coated his skin.\n\nHis intense gaze never wavered from the glowing metal in front of him, its molten form bending to his divine will as he shaped it according to his masterful vision... Until he heard a voice, soft, pure, and quiet... Yet it pierced through the noise of the forge easily as it hit his ears. \n\nHephaestus paused in his work, the rhythmic clang of his hammer ceasing as her words reached him. His eyes, usually so focused and intense, softened as he turned to face her. The firelight caught the beads of sweat on his brow, and he wiped them away with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of soot across his forehead as abroad smile spread over his face, reaching all the way to his eyes.\n\n\"Hestia,\" He murmured, his voice kind yet a little rough from the many hours spent at the forge. \"You came...\" There was a tenderness in his gaze that was like nothing Aphrodite had never seen directed at her since those early days, back when he still tried to ease the pressure and the pain that their forced union put in them both. His gaze flickerd from her eyes to her hand, delicate fingers hesitantly reaching out to touch him, fingers tracing a light intricate pattern on his arms. There was a flash of heat that spread over his face at the touch as he sighed she pulled her hand away timidly.\n\n\"You work so hard, Hephaestus. You deserve a moment to relax, to be cared for. Let me give you what you need, Hephaestus.\" The words hit, kind and full of concern but with an honest earnestness that made it hard to ignore. Hephaestus reached out, his rough, calloused hand hovering just above her own that lingered against his cheek, as if he was afraid to touch her, to break the illusion of the moment. \"I... I didn't realize you felt this way,\" He said softly, his voice tinged with wonder and disbelief. \"You've always been so kind, so gentle... But I never thought...\"\n\nThere would have been a brief flicker of something... Anger maybe... At his words, at the notion that Hestia, with her gentle demeanor and chaste heart, could so easily win the affections that she, the goddess of love, had never been able to secure. Had the forge god had a reason to suspect he might have noticed the brief falter, but as it was he saw nothing.\n\nFor all their time spent cuddling on the couch in the common room, sitting and talking in front of the fires of their respective domains, and time just spent in each other's company, it had never gone far. A chaste kiss on the mess of blonde hair or a soft kiss on his hand as they walked along the beach was as far as things and gone... Until now. Hephaestus's breath hitched as she leaned in, their faces just inches apart. For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sound the crackling of the forge and the quickening beat of his heart. And then, slowly, hesitantly, he closed the distance between them, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, chaste kiss. \n\nIt was a kiss unlike any Aphrodite had likely ever experienced. There was no maddening flurry of passion, no raging fire, no lustful embrace. Instead, it was gentle, tender, filled with a quiet longing and a deep, abiding affection. For all the faults she found in the man she felt so chained to and restricted by, Aphrodite did know how to put her finger right on that pressure point... Something that would have terrified Hephaestus in that moment if he had been aware.\n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": "kenneth.greygullhaven", "message": "Location: Hephaestus's home forge late one evening\nWho: Hephaestus and Hygieia\nScene: A friend stops by to check on the forge master" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "As the night wore on and many others were turning in for the night or enjoying some leisure time with a special someone, the forge was still surprisingly alive and bustling with activity. The fire roared with intensity, casting bright orange flames that danced and crackled in the darkness. Hephaestus, the master craftsman, was consumed by his work once again. His skilled hands moved effortlessly among the burning embers, shaping and molding metals into intricate designs. Weapons, armor, trinkets, and other fine things decorated the walls and tables in the corner of his personal home forge. Here he was usually alone, save for when any of the other craftsmen who used the space were also burning the late night embers with him working on their own projects. \n\nHere at home, he was able to work on matters close to his heart, putting the pressing war-related affairs from his mind... As much as he could. The air was heavy with the pungent aroma of heated steel and rare materials, a reminder of the god's unmatched talent and dedication to his craft. Despite the late hour, there was a sense of energy and purpose in the forge, entertaining Hephaestus' restless mind as sleep proved to be elusive for yet another night.\n\nThe resonating clang of metal striking metal reverberated throughout the cavernous room, filling the air with a symphony of sound. The skilled forge master stood at his anvil, sweat dripping from his brow as he poured all of his passion and expertise into each swing of his hammer. Around him, the flickering embers of his roaring furnace illuminated his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes as he transformed shapeless blocks of steel and rare metals into works of art. His hands moved with expert precision, molding and shaping until every piece was imbued with beauty and purpose. In this moment, he was a true master of his craft, finding solace and fulfillment in the challenge of creation.\n\nDespite another sleepless night, mind twisting in on itself and tangling up in knots of regret, frustration, and worry, Hephaestus found some solace and direction in his forge. Within the walls of his workshop, the chaos of his thoughts quieted somewhat as he fell into the almost automatic rhythm of his work. In the midst of tumultuous emotions and overwhelming responsibility, Hephaestus knew he could always rely on his forge. The fire burned ever-strong, never faltering, offering a constant source of comfort and stability. Even as his mind wages war with his heart, the forge master tried to pull some peace, some reassurance from his work, desperate to keep that mask in place. It was hard on a good day but on the bad days... Well, it was even harder.\n\nLong ago he had tired of the war and the endless stream of weapons and armor that seemed to pass through his forge. Hephaestus decided he would keep making what was requested of him as the blacksmith of the gods, but he was also going to keep creating for his own sake. Amidst the monotony of fulfilling endless requests, Hephaestus found solace in his own creations. Hidden among the swords and shields were delicate goblets, stunning crows, and ornate mirrors, each one a testament to his unparalleled skill as a blacksmith. These were the treasures that brought joy to Hephaestus' heart, a welcome respite from the never-ending cycle of violence and destruction. \n\nIt was in these things that his heart truly found joy-even when his mind and his body seemed determined to take it all away. And so caught up in his work that evening was the forge master that he didnt sense someone approaching the forge until they were nearly standing in the doorway. \n\n||" }, { "author": "HYgEIA", "message": "It had been a long day, and it was difficult not to be overworked in the current conditions of their world, Hygieia being able to attest to that. As an advocate for health, she worked tirelessly wherever she was needed nowadays, answering the prayers to her name, assisting as much as she could, especially to the less fortunate of the present where battles were now prevalent. It was not their choice to be in-between a war, even more so, a war that might change the dynamics of their reality as they know it. \n\nHygieia gravitated to wherever she was needed most. Often times, these would be in hospitals, clinics, or even the simplest camps that housed the sickly and ill. She wasn't as skilled as her father, and she specializes in a different field than him too. After all, 'to prevent is to protect', and that was how she made a name out of herself, helping any being, mortal or immortal alike by solving the issue before it'd present itself. Unfortunately, there were cases that a problem develops a complication before she could answer the call for her help, uttered or not. She often followed the ideal of limiting the use of her abilities, mostly in respect to the mortal advancement of the medical field, but in situations such as today, she followed through with her oath to serve and protect all that existed within this world. \n\nWhen her final call of the day led her to the forges owned by the renowned god of fire, she was surprised at first to have been brought here out of all places. Surprise turned to worry, and forgetting any reasons for hesitation, she approached further past the entrance, to the concerning connection that led her here. \n\n\"Hephaestus... Hephaestus...\" She called his name once, twice. Whatever it took to get his attention from the, admittedly, hypnotising process of forging what his new project might be. Her gaze darted quickly above his head, a little scared to check, but relief flooded her when she noted that the space was empty as it should be." }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Amidst the crackling of the blazing fire and the rhythmic sound of metal being etched at the workbench, a light, melodic voice called out. It took a moment for the sound to carry to the forge master's ears, but as soon as he heard it, a warm smile spread across his face. Turning towards the entryway, he saw Hygieia standing there, her radiant beauty illuminated by the fiery glow of the forge. Her presence brought a sense of peace and serenity to the otherwise chaotic workshop.\n\n\"Ah forgive me, my dear, I hadn't heard you come in at first\" He said as he set down the tools he had been working with and wiped his hands on the towel hanging from his apron. The once pristine white fabric was now stained with streaks of dark metal and ash, evidence of the hard work he had been engaged in. Despite the mess, the blacksmith's smile was warm and welcoming as he turned back to face his guest.\n\nAt his side on the sturdy workbench sat one of his canes, crafted from simple, unadorned wood and built for everyday use- a reliable and dependable companion. Some days he needed its support more than others, but lately, he had been fortunate enough to go without it. The work at the forge, usually back-breaking, had surprisingly eased up in the past few days. The constant stream of orders from Ares had finally slowed down, giving him a rare opportunity to work on a personal project. It had been a refreshing change of pace for him, physically at least. However, that was a topic for another time and place.\n\nWith a small groan and stretch after sitting for what felt like hours, Hephaestus made his way over to where Hygieia was waiting. He couldn't help but notice how her robes almost seemed to glow somewhat in the firelight. Giving her a warm smile, he gestured towards the nearby table and chairs. \"It's always a pleasure to see you, my dear. Please, take a seat,\" He said, pulling out a chair for her. \"What have you been up to lately? I'm sure you've been keeping busy with your healing duties...\" \n\nHis words trailed off, not wanting to bring up the constant state of war that seemed to loom over every corner of Olympus and cloud every aspect of their lives.\n\n||" }, { "author": "HYgEIA", "message": "When he'd taken notice of her, her tense form relaxed somewhat, though her concern remained clear on her friendly face. His acknowledgement that led to his approach momentarily made her step forward, ready to help at a second's notice should there be any trouble that she could observe. Such is the blessing and bane she was to embody, a, perhaps overly, caring nature that could pass as demeaning should it be with anyone else who failed to recognize her. Millennial instincts honed and taught by experiences, good and bad, the goddess of health only breathed a little easier when she saw how her friend could handle himself as normal, something she'd been hoping to witness to disprove the alarming, unexpected call that led her here.\n\nWhile it was not somewhere she'd frequent, lest given permission, the warmth radiating from the fires never scared her despite her proximity, near or far, from them. In fact, she could understand why working at the forges might be an enjoyable past time for those who are truly passionate of it. Letting her eyes wander for just a second, she was reminded of the thought that came to her mind upon stepping foot in here for the first time, when their relationship was still at the seeds and not the lovely sprout it now was. Her past self thought that, should a child or any being that she took care of where to ask of a place worth seeing, Hephaestus' forge would be among the first that she'd mention. A place where fire can be conquered, mastered, into making what is desired. She'd keep that thought for some time for now, focusing back on Hephaestus with a small smile.\n\n\"Thank you, dear Hephaestus.\" She stated as she approached him, respectfully lifting the skirt of her robes a tad so they wouldn't drag, mentally reminding herself to trim the hems soon. Hygieia gave him a polite bow before she took his offered seat, waiting for him to settle himself as well before she spoke once again. \n** **\n\nThe glint in her eyes upon his following statement was bittersweet, giving him a short, slow nod to indicate that she understood, and very much agreed with him on that matter. Simply remembering... Was worrying enough. \"I've been doing fine, my dear friend. While it was a busy time, I'm happy to mention that many little ones are already on the road to a swift recovery. They currently have a fascination for stickers though, so should you see one or two on my clothes, do not be surprised.\"\n\nShe mentioned with a grin, though it softened once more as she surveyed his form again. \"How about you, dear Hephaestus? Is... Everything alright?\"\n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": "Alexios || Conner Donnelly", "message": "Time didn't feel real. It passed by Conner in waves of gentle touches upon his shoulder, heavy rain blurring his vision, and soft condolences whispered into his ear. Standing beside Jessie's grave as she was lowered into the ground, as each splash of dirt was thrown over her casket, he didn't notice how fleeting it was. How hours could be counted by blinks. How seconds were the raindrops that soaked his black suit. \n\nTime didn't feel real because for him, it had stopped the moment Jessie died. When his past caught up to him and punished him for running and hiding all of his life. She was taken from him by the gods just like his father was before her. Just like so many innocent lives throughout the years because Conner - Alexios - refused to take a stand against Zeus.\n\nNow Jessie was nothing but another statistic in a line of statistics spoken by a news reporter with fear in his eyes as death rolls mounted from the war.\n\nThe gods stomped on all of the people who worshipped at their feet without a second glance at what they were treading across. Conner watched it happen for years, trying to help where he could as a regular person, but there was only so much one could do with limited resources in a world that the gods no longer seemed to care about. Jessie had understood that. She had pushed for him to fight back with his full power, and make a real stand against the gods. But he never listened to her, choosing to work on the sidelines. \n\nA lot of good it did him. \n\nHe took in a deep breath as cold air soaked into the wet clothes sticking to his body. The grave was completely filled in - where did the time go? - and he was standing alone underneath a tree nearly bare of its leaves. He didn't want to leave her. He wanted to wake up from the nightmare with her in bed at his side, arms draped over him protectively. He wanted to feel her warmth, touch her soft skin, smell her perfume. But he couldn't. \n\nShe was gone forever, and he would always be rooted to his guilt." }, { "author": "Esmeray", "message": "The soft rain tapped against the black umbrellas in a melancholy rhythm as the preacher spoke. The words came out melded together, the true syllables not forming the words Esmeray knew he was speaking. She had heard it all before, words that were supposed to comfort those who had lost their loved ones. They always spoke the same message, thanking the gods for the life that was given and blessing the soul as it were to cross the River Styx. But this funeral was different, this one hit a part of her heart she had tried to keep from ever being touched again but never had the strength to completely block out. \n\nEsmeray stood back from the group under the safety of the rain, keeping her distance from the people who held some semblance in Jessie's life. She watched as they took their turns tossing dirt onto the casket, each of them passing looks of worry and sympathy at Conner. It didn't take long for them to realize he would not react to their soft apologies and words of unwanted wisdom. Not even the rain could affect him as he sat in a puddle of his clothing, his sturdy form showing he was far too lost in the world inside his head. \n\nIt was when everyone was gone and she could see the water physically dripping off of him that she pushed herself off of the post of the pavilion and walked towards the gravesite. It was far too late for the umbrella she had tucked into her bag alongside the towel, but she grabbed them both as she walked. She didn't necessarily care about getting wet, her concern more for the man who sat in front of the muddy pile of dirt as if he were nothing more than a statue, forever frozen in a state of mourning.\n\nIt was when she neared she saw his deep breath, an indication that his escape from reality had finally ended. She unfolded the towel and stepped closer to him, tossing it over his shoulders without a word. She knew that no words would make the pain go away, no words would comfort a man who most likely blamed Jessie's death on himself.\n\nInstead, she opened the umbrella and stood next to him in silence with a lone tear falling down her cheek." }, { "author": "Alexios || Conner Donnelly", "message": "Conner only truly snapped out of his thoughts when someone appeared at his side, umbrella snapping open to allow him refuge. He shifted uncomfortably as he realized that everyone else was gone, and it was just him and Esmeray standing before the grave like their very own memorial statue dedicated to Jessie. He with his stiff posture and soaked clothes, and her with a tear running down her cheek - unable to use the excuse that it was the rain since she was shielded by the umbrella as well. \n\nA brief glance had told him everything. She had stuck around despite a storm threatening to get worse, despite how he wasn't the best company to keep. He didn't know if she just wanted the extra time to mourn her loss or if she were there to support him in his, but it didn't matter. They had each other which was more than he expected to have after all he lost. \n\nIt was still a long time before he spoke. Before he even moved. The first signs of life were his shoulders slumping as if the weight already bearing down on him just got heavier. He didn't turn to look at Esmeray when he spoke, but he addressed her all the same, his deep blue eyes never leaving the gravestone in front of him. \n\n\"This can't continue,\" He said, his voice low, but just loud enough to be heard over the heavy rain. \n\nIt was a simple statement, but one that held so much weight behind it. Conner never wanted to live a life in constant fear. He never wanted to be a warrior fighting against *Gods* Of all things. He just wanted a *Life*, one that allowed him to keep the people he loved alive and well. But the blood that ran through his veins wasn't the blood of Matthew Donnelly; it was the blood of Zeus. And the Blood of Zeus didn't run and hide. It stood and fought back. \n\n\"I can't let it continue.\"" }, { "author": "Esmeray", "message": "The silence between them was both comforting and welcoming. The soft sound of the rain against the umbrella like white noise as she let Conner contemplate his next move. Esmeray had been unable to fathom a world without Jessie. Unable to fathom a world where she was not smiling and laughing with one of her best friends. She remembered meeting Jessie, being introduced to Conner and Jared and them becoming like family. It seemed as if it had always been the four of them, would *Always* Be the four of them but now as she stared down at the muddy grave she remembered the feeling she tried so hard to forget. \n\n\"This can't continue.\" Esmeray looked at Conner, his blue eyes focused on the grave just as hers were before. She knew what he meant, knew that the trauma of Jessie's death would alter him in some way. A life in hiding quickly being risked so that her death would not be in vain. Esmeray remembered the letter that sat next on her kitchen table at home. Words written and meant for a day much farther in the future than any of them anticipated. Esmeray turned towards him as he spoke again. \"I can't let it continue.\" \n\nEsmeray nodded her head and looked over at the black SUV just a small distance away from them. It started up as if she had queued the driver, the windshield wipers quickly clearing the rain before driving down the cemetery street slowly. She bowed her head and looked at the mud ridden boots and sighed. \n\n\"I can't watch any more people die.\" She knew he felt the same and part of her wished it didn't come down to Jessie's death for him to finally make a stand. \"Jess... Jessie will be proud of you no matter what. Whatever you have planned. I'm in.\" She said it without hesitation as she looked back up at him, determination and anger in her own eyes. \n\nThis wasn't just a fight against his father but also her own. Children of gods who never felt the consequences of their egotistical behavior. She would not only be standing alongside Conner, but fighting the ver\n\nY father she had spent her whole life without. \n\n\"I'm in.\"" }, { "author": "Alexios || Conner Donnelly", "message": "Conner's mind was a mess of thoughts. About Jessie. About his father. About the war. About his upcoming part in it all. After being on the run for so long and hiding his true identity from the world, from *Zeus*, he was finally going to take a stand. It didn't feel real. Like he was floundering in air, unable to get his balance or touch his feet down. \n\nIt wasn't until Esmeray spoke that he was finally grounded again. He opened his eyes and glanced at her, turning to meet her gaze in the hopes that it would continue to keep him focused. She was a beacon in the dark, her voice a reminder that he was awake and alive despite feeling like he was trapped in a never ending nightmare. \n\nHer words were reassuring because they told him that she wanted the same thing he did. Both of them watched too many people die to the destruction caused by the gods. Entire generations completely wiped out over minor disputes in the heavens. It was like the gods had forgotten that there were people living below them, that they had families and lives. They needed to be reminded who they existed for, who worshipped them. \n\nHe nodded to Esmeray's declaration. His first ally in what would be defiance against the gods. Looking back at Jessie's grave one last time, he turned to walk away, staying by her side. \n\n\"We'll need to recruit more like us.\" \n\nIt was an obvious statement, but one that needed to be said. Conner was sure that Jared would willingly join them, but his knowledge of other demigods was limited. It was a good thing Esmeray was on his side. She was a lot closer to that life than he was, considering she actually kept in contact with her family. \n\n\"Do you know anyone?\"" }, { "author": "Esmeray", "message": "The idea of Zeus' son and Poseidon's daughter teaming up to fight the war between the two gods was crazy. As Conner met her gaze she saw the new spark of anger now taking the forefront. He would not easily let this go, it was not some simple stage of grief that mortals had painted with simplicity in therapy. He had lost almost everything because of his father and that wasn't something anyone could just walk away from. \n\nIt seemed as if just yesterday, Esmeray had heard Jessie try to convince him to fight. She had brought both Jared and Esmeray into the conversation many times, hoping that if she could convince them they would help her with Conner. But in the end, they all denied the responsibility. \n\nNow here they stood, staring at her grave, and this was what propelled them into a war they tried to ignore. Esmeray's gaze bounced between Conner's eyes. All doubt, all fear, all hesitancy was gone. She had been so sick of death and now it was almost as if they were asking for it. \n\nEsmeray watched as Conner took one last look at Jessie's grave before letting himself walk away. 'We'll need to recruit more like us,' She nodded to his words. Esmeray thought of her brother and sister, gods and goddesses she had reached out to when she first tried to find family and while they had been close, she wasn't sure if they would take her side. It was a delicate line to cross, a world drawn like a line in the sand from gods to demigods. 'Do you know anyone?'\n\nEsmeray stopped walking and looked out along the cemetery plots. There had to be more people that were sick of Poseidon and Zeus' antics. \"I may have a few ideas.\"" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "A charming bistro known as the Hestia Hearth offers a cozy setting for romantic dinners and intimate gatherings. The bistro features hearth-inspired decor, and its menu includes divine delicacies associated with love and family. Gods often frequent this establishment to savor moments of togetherness in a warm and inviting atmosphere." }, { "author": "Erebus", "message": "The warm and welcoming atmosphere of food & romance would slowly be joined by an invasive force, a sensation that sprouted a sense of unease to some & discomfort for others. The Bistro was a place for fine dining and memories between lovers, yet this new presence held neither intention. It came for something else. Something only the namesake of this place could truly know and fulfil... And Hestia could sense *Who* Had just arrived.\n\nStepping forward towards her table, his hand moved from his black cloak to pull back the chair that sat opposite the Goddess of Hearth's, stepping around to take up a seat just opposite her. Despite most pairs being lovers on dates, when one were to look upon their table they wouldn't see the embers of love nor romance when they gazed upon those two. Instead a sense of power, almost authority, washed over the longer anyone was to gaze upon Hestia and Erebus. Her mixture of warmer colours and aura clashing with Erebus' full black and much colder vibe definitely lended to the idea that he was *Not* From here. He was like shark that had swam far from his territory, and the locals were beginning to notice he was out-of-place. He wasn't here for a date, he was here to discuss, to plan.\n\n\"Hello, Hestia. I want to *Talk*\" Erebus spoke, hands firmly clasped together as he didn't even bother to lower his hood down. He didn't like stepping up onto the surface during daylight hours, always made him feel uneasy. Maybe that's why he fell for Nyx so easily? He could always visit her during the dark periods of time... But that was enough reminiscing. He wanted to talk about now, and right now? A war was threatening their existence itself." }, { "author": "Hestia, Goddess of Hearth & Home", "message": "*Sitting peacefully, the goddess of the flame would pick up her glass, letting out a soft sigh as she relaxed back,taking a casual sip of the pomegranate juice. However, she would feel the heat dissipate slowly from the room, as a chill permeated the air. Her body would warm to fix this change, but it still felt wrong, for such a tranquil cozy environment to be disturbed in such a manner.*\n\n*She would set down her glass, swalowing her mouthful before glancing up at the approaching figure* \"I apologise, but that seat isn't available. Unless you wish to take it, I'm not looking for-\" *She would look back down to her meal, preparing herself to eat once more, before having to do a double-take, looking up at the approaching figure. Her own authority didn't fade, but she sat up to prove this fact, giving a stern, yet shy look to the man. Unclenching her jaw, she would respond.8\n\n\"Erebus... I never took you for the man to enjoy such a place. Then again, I can't say I know you all that well, regardless.\" *Politely, she would wipe her mouth, setting her napkin back down on her lap, and returning the cutlery on the table. She only hoped it wouldn't grow cold while she discussed.* \"I assume you have something important to say, dear. Few wish to speak with me for much else.\" *She would place her hands on her lap, leaning forward so the conversation would hush, and so they wouldn't disturb the other diners.* \"I am listening.\"" }, { "author": "Erebus", "message": "His arms rested against the side of the table he occupied, a clear signal that he wanted neither menu nor food. This was strictly a discussion of business and nothing more, not like he needed to prove anything; Him and Hestia? They weren't exactly the pair to make company with one another. Shifting his head to the side, gazing out the window to the bustling streets that thrived with mortals, Erebus gave a soft grumble before returning his gaze to the Goddess. So many mortals were and about today, and at any moment, they could all be rendered lifeless by a God and their wrath. This war had only just started, and it had claimed hundreds of thousands. How many more lives would have to perish? How much longer did balance need to be threatened?\n\n\"You already know the drama of the Pantheon; War popping up everywhere, Gods and Mortals murdering each other. *Balance* Being threatened. I know you're not one for War, Hestia, and let me clarify that I am in the same boat.\" Erebus spoke, lifting his head up slowly to gaze even further upon the Mother of Home, exposing only a small portion of his face that the light managed to illuminate. \"I'm not sitting on the side-lines while that excuse of an *Emperor* Preaches neutrality and commits hypocrisy. I'm going to end this war, but not alone.\" So there it was, that was Erebus' reasoning for coming up from his darkness and shadows. He was wanting to end this conflict, but what did he want Hestia for?\n\n\"Of course, Hades would try to make an example of me if he knew what I was up to. I can't exactly plan anything within the Underworld, not with his careful eye watching everything. I need somewhere to... *Hide* Within plain sight, for me and my... *Allies.*\" The personified Shadows spoke, clearly struggling to mutter his need to hide somewhere outside of the shadows, and with others. Erebus? Working with others? Was this a trick? Couldn't be, nobody could match that grumpy aura he carried." }, { "author": "Hestia", "message": "*She would watch Erebus with caution, but still gave him the courtesy of a kind, attentive smile. Though she could not see his own expression, she saw no harm in showing her care towards his gallant gesture. As he spoke, she would timidly raise a hand to excuse herself, while she took a sip of her drink, savouring its taste as she considered her own answers.*\n\n\"I appreciate your tactfulness, Erebus. I didn't know you shared the same opinion, but it brings me comfort to know you will not attempt to coerce me into this cause further with talk of glory.\" *Her smile would fade as she spoke, and he would follow his gaze outside, watching the busy people outside, and then giving a broad look around the room at the dinner guests, only slightly disturbed by the two deities of polar opposite domains conversing.*\n\n*She would be a touch surprised as Erebus revealed part of his face, intentional or otherwise. She would smooth some chaotic strands of hair out of her face, anxiously readjusting the dim candle between the two of them, which flared up a bit at her touch.* \"I apologise if I gave the impression that I was sitting on the side... It is what I tend towards, but only for the safety of the people. I protect all who seek it, so that they may bask in the comfort of warmth.\" *She would gesture around the room subtly.* \"But, I assume you came to ask more of me than to be more aggressive, given your earlier tone.\"\n\n*She would lean forward once more, looking into where she believed Erebus' eyes to be, and taking a deep sigh, a troubled expression on her face.* \"You are among comfort, dear. Though, forgive me, for I don't think I understand what you are asking of me. Or better yet, how I can help you in your goal.\" *She would trace the rim of her glass with one finger awkwardly.* \"Unless...\"\n\n*She would take in a breath, as clarity hit her. Looking back at his form, she would raise an eyebrow, uncertain if she was about to be correct.* \"You have heard tale of my place being sanctuar\n\nY, and came to ask for it?\" *She would ask, resting her hand on the table, giving him a flicker of a smile, to imply that if that was his request, it would be an option.*" } ]

[ { "author": "demiurgical", "message": "Psyche and Aether discuss Aurora's confrontation with Ares and Aphrodite and the war while enjoying a spot of Pilates." }, { "author": ".* Psyche", "message": "Beneath the canopy of old, towering trees, morning sunlight crept through leaves in glimmers that twinkled brightly against dew-kissed grass. That morning, Aether had agreed to join Psyche for a spot of Pilates in the park - a regularity in the goddess' daily schedule, who dared not miss even a day of peaceful respite in an otherwise never-ending schedule of chaos. Lush foliage, bright flowers, and majestic oak trees set a scene of tranquillity, inviting citygoers of Olympian to escape urban life, and creating the perfect place for Psyche to pique his mind. \n\nNestled in the oasis, dedicated Pilates enthusiasts gathered to greet the dawn with their graceful movements, the gnarled branches of the trees around them reaching for the sky like outstretched arms. The air was crisp and fragrant and carried the scent of fresh flowers, the soft ground beneath their feet a carpet of emerald green that cushioned their every step.\n\nTheir movements were slow and fluid, a testament to the harmony between mind and body that underpinned the exercise. A stark contrast to the pandemonium of just days ago when the demigod Aurora's confrontation with Ares and Aphrodite almost led to an altercation, Psyche contemplated her timely intervention as birds flitted and chirped among the branches overhead, adding their cheerful little melodies to the ambience of their peaceful surroundings.\n\nAurora, a young demigod, had showcased formidable courage in confronting the divine lovers in a display of strength that was both fearless and admirable. Ares' temper was known throughout Olympus and the mortal realm alike, often through epic tales of his terrifying wrath; his hunger for and conflict had shaken the world more times than Psyche could recall, so it was no surprise when he had set his sights on that of his young demigod son.\n\nAphrodite, likewise, did not hesitate to egg on her lover - a development that did not shock Psyche whatsoever. She, like many, had seen and experienced her wrath firsthand and knew that the amicable facade of warmth and amour was a temptress whose taste for violence and games could shake mountains. \n\n**\"The girl,\"** Psyche said quietly as she stretched and contorted her slender limbs gently beside Aether, a god whose relationship with the demigod made him the perfect soundboard for the blonde's desire to know more. **\"Aurora, I believe. She certainly has her father's strength, but it appears to be both yourself and Hemera she draws her courage from.\"**" }, { "author": "Aether!", "message": "Aether, as old as he was, should have been protesting and groaning against the folds and bends of the movements that Psyche was leading them through. However, the only sighs he let out were exhales of breath when trying to reach, or fold his body much more for the pose. He, next a few other God and Goddess, didn't look nearly as ancient as they should, being a primordial.\n\nIt was a gorgeous day, and honestly they couldn't have picked a better time to engage in the exercise.\nPsyche's voice suddenly flitted into his ears, golden hair pinned back with a thin headband to keep it out of the way. \nThere wasn't a thought in his mind up until that point, when the Goddess mentioned Aurora, and the golden trifecta of immortals that doted on her. \n\nThe God paused, thinking a moment. He hadn't... Stopped to think about it in the prior days honestly, even if his heart remembered the sting of Aphrodite's words towards the demigod.\n...Or was it demigoddess?\nShaking the technicality away, Aether lifted himself gracefully from they way his body was folded, straightening himself out to speak.\n\n**\"She is an inspiration..\"** Aether started, leaning back on his hands to look around at the park they were in. \n\n**\"I'm just grateful she is strong, though her mouth is much like her father's: not at all sugar coated. For**\n\n**What little she knows of how to defend herself against the will of entities as we are... She seems to be doing fine!\"** \nAether said this matter of factly, though somewhat surprised. \n\n**\"If Apollo had come into her life any later, we'd be starting from scratch. I would have loved to be around her as a child. Create sparkler effects for her and watch her eyes glow in amazement.\"** \n\nAether blushed, kicking his feet a bit and rubbing his legs together sheepishly. He yearned for another child, and even though he and Hemera were more than happy to conceive, the God of Light was hesitant on bringing a *Baby* Into the world where the war would force them into hiding... If they could hide that was. \nIt wouldn't be such a bad idea to become neutral, but it nearly felt like treason at this point.\nThere was so much to lose. \n\n**\"There's still a lot of work ahead of us..\"** His voice trailed softly, looking to Psyche.\n\n**\"I'm happy you think so highly of Aurora! I'm.Sure you'd have plenty to teach her as well! The soul is always true.\"**" }, { "author": ".* Psyche", "message": "Her own beginnings, it appeared, had been at odds with Aurora's. While she was certainly no goddess by birth, Psyche's upbringing had been steeped in luxury and privilege thanks to her father's status as king of a small kingdom in the fourth century BCE. The youngest of three daughters, her inauguration into godhood began with being introduced to Eros, the son of the goddess Aphrodite, whose offence she had earned as a result of being famed near and far for her beauty. The eventual trials she faced to escape the punishments the goddess intended to pursue to end widespread idolatry of the mortal princess were long and gruelling, and were it not for the intervention of her ex-husband, she would have not been there to tell the tale. \n\nHer sociability and warmth earned her a reputation of kindness and great favour, but she was still no stranger to the cruelty of their kind. Likewise, Aether embodied what it meant to defy convention and had always been held in great esteem, being one of the few primordial deities that retained his repute. The personification of the sky and light, his upbeat positivity shone with a blinding luminescence as he reflected on his relationship with the demigoddess in question. In truth, the blonde found his company comforting, for many of those like them had long-proven they were not worth her time or patience.\n\n**\"Something else she gets from you, I should think,\"** Psyche said warmly as she elongated her body and followed the fluid movements of the Pilates instructor some rows ahead. **\"This world is new to her much like it was for me. But she has a good head on her shoulders,\"** She continued, then turned to face him with a friendly grin. **\"And a remarkable family unit who supports her. You've always been the best of us, Aether. Don't underestimate the power of positive reinforcement, nor the importance of your influence on her. Her spirit burns with a resolve that is as fierce and as beautiful as the light at first dawn,\"** A beat as she sat down on the mat. **\"There is no telling what could've been different had you not been there to guide her.\"**\n\nShe went silent as the instructor led them into the next section of their routine. Her movements thereon were fluid and graceful, each stretch and pose executed with experience and precision as she found refuge and peace in both mind, body, and soul in the exercise. **\"Facing off against Aphrodite, even in a battle of words, is no small feat. She speaks with the strength and confidence of a girl who knows her worth, and her merit. You've done right by her.\"**\n\nThe two gods continued their session, testing both their endurance, balance, physicality and willpower as they discussed Aurora's inspiring sense of courage. There was a fire in her born from radiant inner strength, undiminished even in the face of a goddess of Aphrodite's station. To say that Psyche was impressed would be to understate it. **\"But you're right, sweet Aether. Her journey to self-discovery, like anyone's, will be long. But there is endless potential with every new day, isn't there?\"**\n\nShe smiled, then laid back on the mat and cast her blue eyes up at the sky and its boundless heights, touched by his charm and affability. Like her, both he and his charge were inclined to benevolence, but were more than aware that in a battle that bent the light of reality, mere shadows had no chance. \n\n**\"She's destined for greatness. If you wouldn't mind, I'd quite like to pique her mind about the road ahead,\"** The blonde said idly as she followed the path of an aeroplane that drifted across the atmosphere, leaving a stream of ivory clouds in its wake. **\"What things drive her, and where she sees herself in the grand scheme of everything around us. But what of you, my dear? How are things in your life? It has been an age since I saw your smile that wide, which all things considered, I wasn't aware could physically** ***Get*** **Any brighter.\"**\n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": "wingmancan", "message": "ᵂⁱᵗⁿᵉˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵂʳᵃᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᴳᵒᵈ" }, { "author": "Sasha Baskov", "message": "Entering into his tenth hour of a twelve hour shift, Sasha found himself drooping. He stood in the breakroom hovering over the coffee machine as he waited for his mug to fill up with the one thing that was going to help him get through the last two hours. It was a slow evening - something he was simultaneously thankful for and rebelling against. Thankful because he didn't want anyone to be hurt and need his help, but silently wishing for *Something* To do to avoid paperwork. \n\nIf he sat down at his desk, he was at risk of bruising his face from passing out on it. \n\nThe coffee was barely done brewing before Sasha was dumping a mix of chocolate creamer and sugar into the mug and swirling it around. A test sip burned his tongue, and he dumped another shot inside to cool it off. He cradled it in both hands as he walked down the hall to his office and took a seat at his desk. Two more hours. As much as he loved helping people, he was eager to get home to his bed. Warm sheets and trash TV to put him to sleep was calling his name.\n\nA distant scream muffled through thick walls and storm windows made Sasha perk up, his brow furrowing as his mind tried to comprehend if it was real or not. An unnatural darkness seeped through the window, filling his office with shadows usually reserved for later hours. He set his coffee down and rushed to the window to look out, eyes widening as he watched the sky become veiled in black.\n\nThen there were more screams.\n\nStreet lights popped on one by one, each one unveiling a new mystery. Under one light, Sasha saw people taking off at full sprint, running from some unseen enemy hidden in the shadows. And then another light popped on revealing more people, though they moved slower, and less coordinated. From his vantage point one story up, he couldn't discern that some were undead, and his confusion mounted on top of his fears. \n\nThat's when screams came from within the hospital. \n\nHe felt his heart jump as he turned toward his door which was wide open and inviting. More screams. Closer, louder, more frantic. Sasha ran to the door and stepped out, nearly colliding with a stampede of nurses, doctors, and abled-bodied patients as they raced down the hall. Behind them, something unfathomable was giving chase, pouncing on those too slow or two weak to avoid them. \n\nThe undead. Some dressed in their Sunday best, some wearing the gowns they recently died in, and some naked as the day they were born, wearing only body tags in their ears like jewelry. Fresh from the morgue or out from under sheets that had just covered their flatlining bodies.\n\nFear filled Sasha to the brim and weighted him down. His feet were firmly planted as his thoughts slowed to a crawl. Chaos surrounded him, but there were people who needed *Help.* Helpless patients trapped in their rooms with no line of defense. Sasha already saw one undead woman slip into a room where a scream had drawn her in, and Sasha immediately broke into a run to go after her. \n\nThe undead woman was just about to pounce on the helpless little girl in bed - trapped by two broken legs wrapped in heavy casts - but Sasha reached her first and grabbed her by the shoulders to shove her backwards. His godly strength slammed her into the bedside table and knocked her down, but he wasn't worried about harming someone who was already dead; he was worried about the patient in bed. \n\n\"I got you!\" He said as he circled around the bed to pick the girl up bridal-style. She was a tiny thing, and he lifted her with ease and rushed toward the door. \"Just hold onto me!\" \n\nExiting the room, he turned just in time to see the sheer amount of undead swarming the hospital. They spread out into different hallways, banged on closed doors where they head noise inside, and charged at anything living that moved. When they spotted Sasha, ten of them immediately rushed at him. His eyes widened as he turned to run in the opposite direction, feeling the girl's arms tighten around him when she saw their pursuers.\n\nThe elevator and stairs were at the end of the hall around the corner, and Sasha knew that it was his only chance to get the girl to safety. \"We're almost there, don't worry!\" He said it as he took the corner fast, but sped to a stop when he nearly collided with another group of undead spilling in from the stairwell. Sasha clicked the down button on the elevator over and over again, praying to the gods - whichever one was listening - that the doors would open up quickly. \n\nHe was strong, but he wasn't worried about himself. And he was slowly getting surrounded." }, { "author": "Orion", "message": "Tonight was supposed to be a fun night for him! Now, it had all gone to shit. Who would've thought? Not Orion, or else he would have been four drinks in at some hole-in-the-wall bar he wasn't banned from. \n\nThe sound of explosions, bullets raining, and people screaming filled the air within the Gala. Pieces of the structure came falling down, crushing the mortals that got caught in the mess if they hadn't been done in by the assailants first. The \"Young\" Oracle nearly lost his head himself, just narrowly avoiding the masked man with the axe that was a less hotter version of Jason Voorhees. He found safety behind a pillar, his only company being a deceased man and he snagged his flask to drink away the stress. \n\nGods, demigods, and mortals alike were fighting against the idiotic killers and Orion was more than content to let them handle it. He could sit here, drink it out, and leave when the situation died down. And when it finally had, those who survived left the building, running and screaming. He didn't hesitate to join them - a place with Gods around, all together? That only meant trouble and he wasn't so stupid as to stick around and witness the full aftermath of the attack, especially with that powerful God who simply stood and watched it all go down leaving him with a gut feeling that nothing good would come out of it. \n\nAs he took quick steps down the stairs that led to where the party was held, he walked into the crowd of curious and confused onlookers who heard the commotion from the outside. The sounds of sirens filled the air as first responders all made their way toward the Abyssal Assembly. The mortal brought the flask to his lips as he walked away from the scene. Those poor schmucks, they had no idea the massacre they were about to walk into. \n_ _\n\nThen, he felt something course through him, a sudden chill that took over his body and forced him to stop in his tracks. His heartbeat was irregular, his hands clammy, and his body heavy. He knew this feeling all too well, though it had never come to him when he was out like this. It was only ever felt within his dreams when a vision was going to occur, specifically with the dark ones. He felt the world around him blur out for a moment, the chatter of the onlookers quieting into a muffle while one pristine screech cut through the night. He didn't know if it was reality or if it was a vision, though it was made clear when he saw the flashes go through his mind. Monsters of the night attacking innocents, the hospital, Sasha frantically working to help. They went quickly in succession of one another, never showing a full clear scene but snippets of what was to come. \n\nThe heavy feeling disappeared but the chill remained. He looked down to see his hands shaking, in which he forced them into a fists to try and get them to stop. \"Alright, Orion. It's fine. It's fine, nothing is going to happen.\" His attempt at soothing himself was futile as he walked. He took steady breaths to try and calm his heart but it wasn't working. Just as he was about to bring the flask to his lips, he heard that same shriek in the vision. *No*, that was much too soon. Usually, it took weeks, months, or even years for visions to become a reality. It had never taken minutes. \n\nThe dread returned, and instead of being a weight keeping his feet on the ground, it instead settled as anxiety in the pit of his stomach as his body started moving, first into a fast walk then quickly into a run. \"Run- ALL OF YOU, **RUN**!\" He shouted in warning, though he looked like a maniac to them. \"GO, now, save yourselves!\" He felt like the boy who cried wolf, those around him being the villagers who were calling his bluff. Darkness erupted faster than his legs could carry him, the street light bulbs exploding while th\n\nE building lights completely disappeared into nothingness. \n_ _\n\nThe shriek felt like it echoed endlessly as if the darkness was carrying the sound itself as it went and took over everything in its path. Within its wake, monsters emerged, grabbing the innocent civilians before they could even comprehend what was going on. The chilling sound of the screech was replaced by the screams of mortals trying to survive. He went from one massacre right into another. Was this shit luck? Had to be. Yet, he continued to run, his limbs hitting objects, and people, and eventually, even he couldn't evade the monsters that were indiscriminately attacking. He fought off, losing his jacket in the process and his arms covered in scratches from their nails. He had lost the flask along the way, using it as a weapon and throwing it into the face of the zombie-like creature to fend it off before he bolted. \n\nHe may not have any fight in him, but damn was the man fast when it came down to it. He didn't even process the direction he was running in until he spotted a familiar building, one he knew all too well and visited frequently. The hospital. **Sasha**. He pushed himself through the doors, immediately shutting it behind him as his pants took over, his body pressed against the doors. He looked at the inside, seeing the zombie-like creatures already inside. The lights of the hospitals flickered, most out while some illuminated the halls just enough to see silhouettes. \n\n\"Oh— Oh no, no no no-\" He muttered to himself quietly in fear. Bodies of visitors, workers, and patients were seen as he passed, the ominous sounds of *\"Uhhhhggghhh\"* From the creatures being heard from every corner. He felt sick to his stomach, using those who had already been attacked as distractions away from himself but they were dead, *He was living*, and he needed to find his friend. He saw a fire hydrant lying on the ground next to a medical cart and picked it up. There were no weapons around unless you counted syringes and those weren't going to do jack-shit against the creatu\n\nRes. This was his best bet. \n_ _\n\nHow he made it to the third floor, he didn't even know himself. All he knew was that he was wired and he had seen enough in his vision to let instinct take over. When the halls became familiar, as if he had been there before, he knew he was close. It didn't take long until he saw the demigod, carrying a patient and taking a sharp turn around the corner and into the hall Orion was in but at the elevators. \"Oh thank god!\" He exclaimed, relief as he ran towards him. \"You're still here! I knew you wouldn't get done in by these things! I saw it in my vision—\" He didn't finish his sentence, and instead, his eyes widened as he saw the creatures following soon after. \n\nHe quickly stopped in his tracks, \"Shit... Shit, *Shit*, ***Shit***! You brought them with you?!\" His relief quickly turned into panic, his eyes moving from the monsters to look at the elevator descending to them by floors displayed at the top of the doors. *6....5....4....* He could hear the girl scream as they came closer and Orion wanted to follow suit. \"What the hell are those things?!\" Sasha always had the answers but despite asking his hasty question, he knew this was one of the few occurrences where they were both in the same boat." }, { "author": "asha daskov", "message": "It didn't matter how many times Sasha pressed the button for the elevator; it didn't move any faster. He kept glancing up at the numbers above the door, watching them tick down slowly. Behind him, the zombies inched closer, lumbering toward him and the little girl with purposeful steps. Fear began to seep through his skin, spill from his eyes. He didn't want to show it in front of the little girl, but he could no longer hold it back. \n\n\"Close your eyes, honey,\" He whispered, tears falling down his cheeks as he tucked the girl's head against his shoulder so she couldn't see what was coming. \n\nThat's when he heard the most beautiful voice call out to him, and he turned to see Orion come running up to him looking as relieved as he suddenly felt. For a moment, he was speechless, just staring at his close friend with a tearful smile on his face. Then Orion's words registered in his mind and he shook his head to snap himself out of the shock. \n\n\"I— no, they just kind of followed! I don't exactly control the mob, Orion!\" He would have rolled his eyes if the situation didn't seem so dire. \"They look like zombies to me, but I could be wrong!\" \n\nThe panicked look in his friend's eyes and the little girl's scream only heightened his stress. Gritting his teeth, his eyes shifted back and forth as he formed a plan despite the pressure of the situation. \n\n\"Here, take her!\" He shouted over the moans and groans from the zombies behind him. He peeled the girl off of him to hand her over to Orion before stepping between them and the zombies. \"I'll hold them off!\"\n\nIt was time to put his demigod strength to good use. Sasha was not an experienced fighter - he wasn't even a fighter, actually - but he knew where he could throw fists to inflict damage, and he had a lot more durability than Orion and the little girl in their care. When the first zombie got within arm's reach, Sasha kicked it in the gut, sending it to the ground. That hit alone boosted his confidence and he immediately jumped into the fray to fight off any zombie that got too close. \n\nHe heard the *Ding* Of the elevator as it finally reached their floor and the doors opened up, so he started backing toward it as he fought off a few more zombies, keeping them back." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "A celestial battleground where the god of war trains and spars with other deities. The arena is surrounded by grandstands where gods gather to witness displays of martial prowess and strategical skill." }, { "author": "-- aurora calicchio. '", "message": "** ** 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆. That day, the world seemed to be perfumed by the scent of fresh blooms and the faintest scent of a rainstorm long gone. Long stalks of grass brushed against bared skin, smearing spring's dew on Aurora's calves as she weaved her way through the thickened fields that bordered the outskirts of the nearby arena. The large structure loomed just a handful of yards over in the distance, shadows bathing the ground in an eerie pool of coolness as the sun slowly shifted on the horizon, sluggish in its start to brighten the day. It was times like this that made her truly appreciate the serenity of Olympus and the momentary periods where the war seemed to be nonexistent. She knew very well that bloodshed would pick up its activity sooner than later, but for now, contentment was in store while the clashing was lulled.\n_ _\n\n** ** Tilting her head back, the brunette offered a curious gaze to the sky, eyes tracking the gradual creep of fiery amber. Somewhere along the way since she'd come outside, birds had begun to stir, hidden among the branches of sparse trees speckled here and there. Their songs were cheery; as if there was nothing in the world that could possibly bring them down. Were they aware that the tranquility was only a part of their minds? Beyond, it was merely temporary. But even a short segment was better than nothing. It was better to appreciate what was there than what was lost. What was to come. What was to be lost. \"Where are we headed, hm?\" The question floated on empty air, no other mouth to respond to it. It was alright, though. She hadn't expected a reply, anyway. Not from the horse she'd brought to accompany her at least. The massive creature simply snorted, the meaning of the words flying right over twitching ears. Tossing its head, it snatched a small bite of a particularly tall head of grass, the pretty blade disappearing with a muted crunch. Gently patting the horse's flank, Aurora stifled a rather large yawn. Sleep still blurred her eyes, though she blamed it on the constant tossing and turning she'd done all night. By the time she'd finally given up on resting and had gotten up, her sheets had been a twisted mess of silk, duvet pooling at the foot of her bed in a mess. It wasn't that she'd had nightmares. It wasn't that there'd been disturbances that kept her from sleep. It'd been the lack of noise. The war had gone on for far too long, to the point that she'd grown accustomed to the cries of pain from those who'd been caught in the crossfire of it all. It had never been their fight to defend against, and yet they still found themselves the victims of it all. Olympus was in trouble, but for how long? Nobody knew.\n_ _\n\n** ** All they could do was sit and wait. Thud. Just like that, the peaceful hours of the dawn had ended. The wind gave another sweet sigh, throwing a breeze of cold air into Aurora's face and ruffling dark curls. Leaning forward against the saddle of her horse, Aurora squinted to no avail. The noise had come from somewhere just over the crest of the small hill she'd coasted onto, the source of it shielded from view. She knew people had busy lives, but who in their right mind would brave the day this early? The birds themselves hadn't even made up their minds on whether or not the world should've been awake yet. \"Woah,\" She murmured, heels lightly digging into the flanks of her horse. The stallion snorted again, tossing its head before coming to a halt at the sprawling roots of an elderly carob. Gingerly dismounting with a swing of her legs over the side, she got herself down and crept up to the edge of the hill to see if she could catch sight of the noise from before. It came again, still as consistent as before. Just behind her at the carob, a bird took flight, a mere blob of black against the sky as it vanished in a flash. What, or rather, who, was down there? There in the dew-slicked grass, Aurora huddled and leaned forward, eyes scanning the fields below before landing on a figure just a little ways off at the foot of the slope. The atmosphere split with a whistle of protest as a blade slashed the air. Again and again, slash, whistle. Slash, whistle. It was a routine instilled by whoever it was that wielded the weapon, their side profile unrecognizable from her vantage point. Was this a training session of sorts? Would it be considered interrupting if she greeted them? \"You're up early! Couldn't sleep?\" Carefully rising back to a straightened position, Aurora gave a tentative wave and called down to the figure. Broadened shoulders suggested a man. But who?" }, { "author": "Douglas Miller", "message": "Douglas knew the day was one ripe for training the moment he woke up. Even before the sun was up he felt the call of the training field and decided it was a training day. So even before the sun had started to peak over the hills Douglas had gathered up some of his favorite weapons and carted them to the field. Against the rising sun, he stood, tall and muscular with a chiseled jawline and piercing blue eyes. He was known to be one of the most skilled soldiers in the fledgling group that was the start of Ares' demigod army- its soon to be leader if his plans went as he hoped. And with a natural talent for hand-to-hand combat and a sharp mind for strategy, Douglas knew he was better than most, and he had no qualms about reminding anyone of that fact. \n\nAs he stood in the training field on that early morning, he knew that it was the perfect opportunity to hone his skills with some of his favorite weapons. Aside from his special powers granted to him by being not only the son of Ares but his champion as well, Douglas knew his way around any weapon with an almost instinctive level of skill and mastery. Despite this Douglas loved the rush of adrenaline that came from working with the weapons and made it a point to train as often as he could. And this day was no different as he reached out, eyes closed, letting his hand fall on the first weapon he'd be using for the day. He started with his swords, his trusty companions in battle. Douglas had a collection of swords, each with its own unique design and purpose. \n\nHe grabbed the first one, a long and sleek Katana, and swung it with ease in the air. The blade glinted in the sunlight, and Douglas felt a surge of adrenaline rush through his veins. He moved fluidly, each strike precise and calculated, and it was clear that he had mastered the art. He switched between different stances and techniques, as if dancing with the weapon in his hands, wielding it with the same skill that a master of blades would have demonstrated.\n\nNext, Douglas reached for the shining set of throwing daggers, one of his favorite weapons to use due to their ruthlessness and ranged attack. Douglas had a keen eye and a steady hand, which made him an expert at throwing daggers with precision. He took a deep breath and focused his gaze on the target, a dummy standing a yards away. With swift and accurate movements, he pulled out his dagger from its sheath and released it, watching as it hit the target with a satisfying thud. He repeated the motion, over and over again, each time hitting the target with precision and a ruthlessness that shone not just in his power but in the cold gaze of his eyes as well. \n\nAs he finished with the daggers, he moved on to cane poles, a weapon that many would underestimate. But not Douglas, he knew well the power the rod could inflict. He picked up a cane pole and walked towards the center of the field, spinning it skillfully in his hands as he approached the dummy again. With lightning-fast movements, he started swinging the pole as he struck the dummies with calculated blows. The cane pole was light but sturdy, tipped with a golden cap at the end, and Douglas knew how to use its length and versatility to his advantage. He spun, kicked, jabbed, and struck, each movement of his body graceful yet deadly as well. \n\nAs he finally stopped, deciding that was enough training and it was time for a quick break, Douglas took a moment to catch his breath and wipe the sweat off his forehead. He looked around the training field, taking in the scenery that seemed so clear and pristine, a stark contrast to the devastation he had just unleashed in such a short period of time. He smiled, knowing that he was pushing himself to his limits and was coming out on top, as always. There was no other option for a son of Ares. After quenching his thirst with a long drink from the water bottle he had with him, Douglas was about to turn back when something... Or someone... Caught his eye.\n\nDouglas squinted slightly against the growing morning sun and looked at the figure standing at the crest of the grassy hill. \"\"You're up early! Couldn't sleep?\" He heard them call out. Was definitely a female voice, but one Douglas didn't recognize. He saw as the stranger waves and he gave a small half-wave in return and watched her, tilting his head slightly. \"Too good a day to be lazy. Perfect day for training\" Douglas said with a small smirk as he wondered for a half second if he should bother putting his shirt back on. Nah, why cover up something so perfect after all? \"What brings you out and about with the sun?\" He asked.\n\n||" }, { "author": "-- aurora calicchio. '", "message": "** ** Glancing over her shoulder at the horse she'd brought along with her, Aurora studied it for a moment before deciding that it would be just fine without her for a bit. She highly doubted it would find the motivation to wander far (if at all) anyway. Fluttering her fingers in a nonverbal goodbye, she began to pick her way down the slope, eyes focused on the ground in concentration to avoid slipping and eating dirt. It was too early to be faced with any embarrassment so soon into the day. \n\n** ** \"Well, I can confidently say that we're here for entirely different reasons. I was hoping to try and enjoy the morning before I got too busy to actually do that. To each their own for their use of the first hours.\" Jutting her arms out as a notably slick clump of grass flattened underfoot, Aurora finished the duration of her descent with an awkward totter, curses flying within her head until she coasted to a stop in front of the stranger. Psychologists and plenty more sources had always claimed that a person's smile was the first thing another looked at. Hell, even their eyes. But it was difficult to note any of the two when the bigger feature vying for attention was the obvious set of washboard abs. Whoever this guy was, he was absolutely shameless, and Aurora applauded him for his confidence. But she was here to keep it classy, folks. Staring, even respectfully, was off the charts, and for that, she kept her eyes trained on his own. After a moment, her brain buffered a thought and she nodded at the current weapon tucked into his hand. \"How long have you been out here with these? That's a lot.\"\n_ _\n\n** ** Even though the man's body blocked a good bit of the grounded weapons from view, Aurora could still catch a pretty good glimpse of the spread. Were all of these truly necessary for one training session? By first thought, anyone would've immediately concluded that he was a general of sorts. And really, who could blame them? He certainly had the aura for it. \"Have you already worked with all of these? I heard sounds coming from down here and thought I'd check it out, but the last thing I'd really expected to find was someone slicing and dicing the air like it owed him its lunch money,\" She said, lips curving into a grin as she comfortably folded her arms over her chest to trap body heat. The two of them maintained a distance between one another, but that didn't stop the soft voice in the back of her head from whispering a warning of caution. Friendliness was all too easy to dish out, but that didn't quite mean the other person was as kind. With the massacres she'd seen as of late, wariness, even in a small portion, was appropriate for any unfamiliar face. Though, in any case, maybe he liked chopping air better than people. \n\n\"Do you have a favorite out of all of these?\" Sidling off in a small semi circle, Aurora studied the display on the ground, attention pinballing from one item to another. They all had one thing in common: they were lethal. However, each had their own particular usage that the others did not, and that was what made them fascinating." }, { "author": "Douglas Miller", "message": "A mischievous smirk tugged at the corners of Douglas' lips as he observed her. His gaze roamed up and down her form as she wandered around the field, seemingly torn between keeping her distance and being inexplicably drawn to him. She was undeniably attractive, even in his distracted state, and he couldn't help but wonder if he should make time for a little personal entertainment and pursue her. It could certainly be an interesting diversion. He took note of her movements, observing how she cautiously navigated the space and stumbled over her words as she spoke to him. Yet despite her hesitation, she was still here and engaging him in conversation... All the opening he needed to make his move. \n\n\"I like to make the most the day,\" With a sly smirk before shrugging. \"Been out here about an or so, I guess? Time flies when you're having fun... Or when you're busy beating the crap out of dummies,\" He added with a chuckle as nodded back towards the carnage behind him. Douglas then went and wiped his forearm across his brow, abs flexing and his biceps tightening in the process. There might have been a little extra flex in there for good measure as well just because he knew it looked good. The sun beat down on him, creating a sheen of sweat on his skin and casting shadows over the scars scattered over his sides and back. \n\nBut to Douglas, this was just another day in the training grounds, where he pushed himself to be better and stronger than before. \"I like using all of them\" He said, waving his hand at the weapons strewn about the field, \"Each has its own unique feel and purpose. Some days I like ranged weapons, others I like to be up close and personal with my... Target,\" Douglas said with a wink as he walked over to his swords again, picking up the longer of the two and swishing it through the air with a practiced ease that only time and skill could hone.\n\n\"Take these\" He said, tapping the blade against its twin impaled on the ground \"A better pair of blades I have not yet found,\" Douglas said with a smirk that was equal parts arrogance and flirtation. \"Helps having a direct line to the best weapons and armor for sure. He trailed off chuckling to himself as he slowly followed after Avalon as she wandered, not getting too close btu still almost stalking her as he answered her flurry of questions. With a smile he bent down and picked up one of the daggers again and twirled it between his fingers. \n\n\"A true warrior..\" He scratched his jaw with the tip of it as casually as if it was something he did often \"..Knows how to wield everything to their advantage. You never know when you might need a specific type of weapon.\" Douglas tilted his head at her comment about the noise carrying and laughed. It was an odd thing. Something he had never really considered before... That might have largely been because most found the son of the God of War to be too intimidating to strike up a casual conversation with. But this lass was different. And Douglas liked that. \n\n\"Really? I didn't realize it carried that far. You've got good ears I see.\" He gave her another once over before returning his attention to the dagger in his hand. \"But out of all these which is my preference? I am afraid I cannot tell. A man has gotta have his secrets after all.\" He winked at her before twirling the dagger again before sheathing it and then placing it back on the table. \"Mostly here to get some morning exercise in before I start my day proper, train the body temple and all that to stay looking this good.\" Douglas made a show of bending down and picking up the other daggers and sheathing them before placing them on the table alongside their brother.\n\n\"I'm Douglas by the way, son and Champion of Ares. But enough about me, I am sure you didn't come all this way just to hear about my training routine\" He said with a smirk. \"What about you? You usually wandering around fields in the morning, looking like a daughter of Aphrodite herself? Or am I just an incredibly lucky demigod this fine morning?\"\n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "Perched atop the celestial heights of Mount Olympus, Hemera's Tower stands as a radiant beacon of illumination, embodying the essence of the goddess of the day. The tower's spire reaches toward the heavens, adorned with shimmering crystals that capture the first light of dawn and scatter it across the divine realm in a dazzling display. Within its walls, the interior is bathed in a golden glow, suffused with the warmth of daybreak. Ethereal tapestries depict scenes of celestial dawn, while windows fashioned from prismatic gems refract sunlight into a kaleidoscope of colors. At the pinnacle of the tower lies Hemera's sanctuary, a celestial observatory where the goddess orchestrates the dawn's arrival with celestial precision, ensuring that each new day dawns with a radiant embrace of light and hope." }, { "author": ". ` : ESMSIaL", "message": "In the golden embrace of dawn, Hemera stood on the balcony of their private oasis. Her hazel eyes reflecting the gold she cast upon the mortals in the light of day. Caressing those she held under her protection with the warmth of Apollo's rays, she held to the satin sheets that fell over glowing skin like a makeshift dress. A soft smile crept along her face as she stood rested, heart ablaze with the warmth and protection of Aether's love. His presence within filling the vast expanse with boundless light and tender affection. \n\nSatisfied with her day, she moved into the room cast in rays and crept into the sleeping form of her husband. Her head ducking beneath the shield that was his arms and forming her body to his own as she laid a soft kiss to his cheek. So often did he hold the wall that kept her safe within the night. An exhausted ethereal being, crawling beneath him in trust that she would wake to the face of perfection upon her morning once more. So often did she wake to that face sleeping peacefully beside her. Chest rising and falling to the birds that sounded outside. There were mornings where Hemera would let the sun rise late, a moment longer to study every outline of the man she adored as duties were cast aside.\n_ _\n\nTogether, they were responsible for weaving a tapestry within the skies. Painting a canvas every dawn with hues of amber and rose as Hemera ushered in the symbol of new beginnings. A sense of pride in knowing such a peaceful state of a being could hold such power, her hand entangling with his own. Delicate fingertips brushing against skin that lit her own into flames with every miniscule brush, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat from a heart he had long since promised to her alone. \n\n\"My love, my light.\" Her lips brushed his nose, his cheek, as legs moved across his body and drug him closer to her in their bed made of the softest clouds within the sky. \n\n\"I do believe it is time to wake up, for the day is here.\" Her voice was a soft melody, a chime to slowly coax him to the sunlight's rays. Her body an enveloping sense of heat, wrapped in a lover's embrace around him. It was here that they started each morning, and here that she thanked all the Gods within Olympia for such a thing, as any day seemed a capable feat if she was simply able to wake to him in such a fashion. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Aether!", "message": "As day turned to night, his wife and mother passing the proverbial torch, Aether often still stayed awake. The stars glittered and gleamed with a fire in his heart to ensure that nothing would rouse or take his beloved as she slept. \nThe God of Light would draw his wish of protection in the stars and on the face of the moon, before curling up with the woman of his dreams. \nWith her, his heart was overrun with love, beating so strong with that feeling even while sleeping soundly. Being a light sleeper however, little noises would shake him, though Hemera floating from the bed that morning didn't wake him. \nShe was so gentle. It amazed him beyond words. \n\nConsciousness ebbed into his mind as he felt the clouds dip, and the trail of her fingers against his arm. \n**\"...Mmm...\"** He hummed, wrapping his arms around her once more as she called to him to awaken. \nHer lips were silk against his skin, causing goosebumps to follow. Dipping his head into the crook of her neck, he breathed in the scent of her, smiling.\n\nAether was not one to ask for just a little more time, even if Hemera spoiled him with just a few more minutes. \nThe God of Light opened his eyes, and a painting was cast from the heavens in golden oranges and that gradient into cornflower blue. \nThe sun would be cresting, but there were still a star or two twinkling in the distance, granting thanks to Helios and Apollo. \n\n**\"I'm so thankful and lucky that I get to wake up to you everyday. You are my forever and always, my love.\"** \nAether kissed her neck, her jaw, and her cheek.\n**\"Did you sleep well?\"** An eye peeked up at her, through the cascade of blonde hair." }, { "author": ". ` : ESMSIaL", "message": "So easily did he entrap her in his brilliance. His arms moving around her in a steadfast wall against the world and all her worries. Her body melting into his lips with a sigh of contentment. \"My light.\" She whispered with pride as his light was cast upon the sky in the most beautiful mosaics. Her favorite artist, and yet he had never so much as broken a sweat in painting her a canvas upon the skies every morning. A dedication to their love, and the way in which they molded together to bring those below the day as they knew it. \n\n\"I will never tire of your words of love, nor will I ever tire of starting each day to the awe inspiring gaze that is your own looking upon me like that, my love.\" \n_ _\n\nHemera's lips brushed his cheek, his skin wherever she may find it as he explored her own. As she reached for him again to claim his kiss. No, not a kiss, a merge, as they so often did within the mornings. His breath her own, his kiss, his skin, it was as if they gave their entire selves to each other without hesitation. Until she felt the very edges of his soul crushing down upon her and consuming her.\n\nThis was what it was to be in love with Aether, the god of light. There was no room for mediocrity, nor dullness when he was the personification of joy and the reason a room lit up when he graced his presence upon it. He held nothing but passion within him, for life, for her, for others, and it was something Hemera not only adored, but admired by her chosen. \n_ _\n\n\"Did you know...\" Her fingertips playfully brushed against his lips, moving down slowly as she spoke in sultry whispers. \"That those that believe the Christian tellings of Gods, believe that woman was made by man's rib.\" Her fingers had delicately danced along his skin, landing where his rib caged the heart that beat beneath. \"There is a part of me that challenges this thinking- but then when you kiss me, I lose sight of how I could be anything else but a part of you.\" \n\nStill her touch danced along the magnetism that was him, her eyes following it with a lust for his affections. A soft sigh coming from her to snap her from the dreamy stage of tossled sheets and expressive sounds. \"I slept wonderfully, as I always do with you by my side.\" Her fingertips had left their exploration now to playfully touch his nose. \"Did you get any sleep at all? Or were you stubbornly keeping watch over me once more?\" \n\nHemera had attempted many a time in their lives together to convince Aether to relent in his guard. A tower built for them within Olympus, they were as safe as any God or Goddess amongst the clouds. War did not touch them here. Yet Aether remained, steadfast in his brilliance amongst the night stars. Steadfast in his loyalty to her, and all that meant to him. Hemera safe beside him each night as she slept the exertion of her powers away.\n_ _" }, { "author": "Aether!", "message": "His eyes scanned her. \n*Hemera.* \n\nAether remembered the first time she'd turned to look his way. All breath was rushed out of him, and his legs felt like melting candles when their gazes met. \nWith it, brought a painting in the sky so beautiful: oranges and purples in shades so vivid that Aether knew no painter could ever recreate.\n\nHis hand raised to brush over her cheek, quietly looking at her in awe, lips parted. She was so perfect, no architect could ever recreate her gentle slopes and tight angles.\n\n**\"I slept... Some...\"** He added, sheepishly. \n\nAether tried to sleep, but he couldn't let his heart settle against the first time she was nearly taken from him. Their children...\nThe sky had been cast out, the sun eclipsed and Aether had never been so full of rage and sadness. \nHe swore to never leave her, and stuck as close as he could to her through the day, and through the night. \n\nThe God of Light's honey hues cast down to Hemera's rosey lips. Not a crease or wrinkle, her skin so perfect, so flawless. \nHe kissed her. \n\nAether hadn't noticed the way his body searched for her's, scooting as close as he could and bring her leg up over his hip. \nHis palm ran over her outter thigh, and down her calf to steady her in the position at her ankle. \n\n**\"I worry... Ya know?\"** \nAether's eyes briefly flicked down, before coming back up to meet his wife's. He pressed their forehead's together, gently. Just a nuzzle. \nThe God of Light needed to stay awake as long as he could, sometimes for his own sanity." }, { "author": ".rieka", "message": "```FTB. End Scene.```" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "Just outside sits Hera's lush and enchanting gardens. Featuring vibrant flora and ethereal blooms. The goddess Hera tends to these gardens, creating a serene retreat within Olympus. The gardens are often a place of respite and reflection for the gods." }, { "author": "Hieiaa ~ Quieiee sf tnie Gsdz", "message": "Undead hands grasped at the owl that seemed to peck and scratch its way out of the group of corpses that had found their way to the doorstep of Queen of Hearts Inc. Hera could feel as boney fingers dripping with rotting flesh clawed at her, tugging at her feathers and making her hiss in pain as her talons slashed, the smell of stale blood covering her. The darkness had come so quickly, and the undead seemed to appear out of nowhere, attacking without any warning. She had needed to get home, needed to escape back to safety, but on her way out she had been completely set upon. Her wings beat at the air, her small, nimble body twisted and squirmed around until the last hooked finger bone slipped off her form, flying off into the darkness, away from the snarling dead.\n.\nIt took her a while to half-crash and half-land in the cordoned off section of her garden. Her form shifted back into the once beautiful blue pantsuit, now covered in rotting flesh and sinew. Dirty was one thing Hera prized herself on never being. Ever. Yet here she was, disgusting. Hades. It must be him. It was always one of the so-called big three. Emotional man babies. Given too much power and not enough sense. Hera groaned as she stared at herself in the reflection of her jeweled compact, picking bits of rotten flesh from her hair before throwing it down, watching as glass and precious stones scattered on the pathway. \n.\nIt didn't take long for the Goddess of Marriage to strip away the clothes and step into one of the large wading pools, the water clouding with blood as it washed away from her flesh. She was unsure whether or not she could handle this mess without reaching out to him. Zeus. Her husband. Her hand blindly felt for her pants, pulling her cellphone from the pocket and opened her text messages, typing out,If you are alive, find me in my garden and clicked send before tossing the phone onto the marble walkway, not caring if this one broke or not. \n.\n\nHera sunk into the water and opened her eyes, letting her hair float around her, suspended except for the light current from the fountain. It was peaceful here in the water, ironic as she was not one to enjoy Poseidon or his oceanic depths, she always enjoyed the soaking pools and baths of Olympus and her own spaces. Long luxurious baths and oils, bombs, suds had become one of her favorite things about the modern world, and had practically bought out every Lush within a 100 mile radius. Alas, this pool would have to do until she could make it back to her clawfoot tub. \n.\nPopping her head out of the water for a breath, Hera lazily swam back and forth as she thought. She knew war was coming, it had been brewing for what felt like forever. Three brothers with immense powers and even more impressive egos. Gods. DemiGods. Humans. Men seemed to bring chaos with them wherever they went, inciting it with pissing contests and competition. Now it seemed there was no way for Hera to stay out of this one and she already knew whose loyalty she would pledge herself to. \n.\nThere was a dull ache in the heart that had been fortified over the years. Walls of metal and stone and lightening and gold all overed the heart that had been broken so many times over. It was barely held together except that now, no one could touch it. No one could get close enough to that heart to heal it or break it ever again. She was content wasn't she? She was fine being alone, the Goddess of Marriage married to a man who had failed her for eons? It was a joke she knew stained her pride and roiled that anger within her. Even with it all, Hera knew she was loyal to a fault, and Zeus would have her in this fight. Though, she thought, would it be so bad to make him work for it? A sly smile parted her lips for the first time today as she moved to the edge of the pool and wrapped a towel around her lithe body, waiting for her husband to appear." }, { "author": "antichrist2828", "message": "Zeus, always straying where he did not belong, found himself where time stood still. A woman with skin like the whisper of silk was present in his arms. As their lips met in an unsteady, searching kiss, her hands, delicate yet fervent, traced the contours of his shoulders. Her hair, wispy and golden, brushed his neck with the softness of a sigh. His knuckles traced the arc of her cheekbone, his eyes deep pools of insatiable desire. And in that moment, suspended between passion and eternity, his thoughts drifted. Ever restless, forever chasing satisfaction hidden on the horizon. \n\nHe would not get stuck in her hair. \n\nIn the heat of their embrace, Zeus found a fleeting escape. Every touch from her a blazing trail against the cold thought of war. Engulfed in the intensity, he poured his energy into her, desperate to anchor his thoughts away from the brewing storm in his mind. Until suddenly, there was a sharp knock on his bedroom door. The woman in his sheets drew rigid, with eyes round as saucers. Her breath instantly unsteady, she buried her nails into his skin. This reaction he found to be common, all of his women were fearful of Hera. But in stark contrast, Zeus's appeared flat. Almost bored with the interruption, he called out to the other side, his voice devoid of concern.\n\n\"You are interrupting me, *Why?*\" \n\nThere was a moment of quiet, and the gravity of it all did not sink in for Zeus. Hera catching him with other women came as a surprise to no one. As the years passed, so did his sensitivity to betraying her trust. He was not afraid to see her on the other side of the door, if she chose to peer in. But a second more passed, and the door handle did not twist. Instead, a voice barked through the oak, the familiar voice of a servant.\n\n\"Hera has sent a message, she is calling for you-\" There was a brief pause, \"You should not keep her waiting.\" \n\n—\n\nThe words muffled through the bedroom door yanked Zeus from the clutches of his haze. Chagrin sparked within him like a lightening strike- sudden, and purposeful. The servant's voice served as a stark reminder of all outside of his bedroom door. Zeus recoiled from the woman's embrace, his form retreating as if repelled by the very air that clung to her. His hands, once smoothing over the curve of her back, now withdrew without warning. He rose, casting a chasm of distance between them. Her fingers, delicate and questioning, reached for him. But with sharp dismissal, he shrugged her off. \n\n\"What are you doing here still?\" His gaze turned cold, \"You will leave now, I've no use for you.\" \n\nA moment later, he emerged from the room fully clothed, his hair long and loose at his shoulders. As Zeus strode from what momentarily whisked him from reality, a flicker of irritation could be seen in his eyes. She would ruin even what she could not see for him. With a clenched jaw and an unruly heart, he made his way through her garden. Unsure of what she could want from him, he assumed she would talk about Poseidon. They had yet to discuss what was brewing on the horizon just like they had many things. The weight of it all hung in the air, mingling with the scent of blooming flowers. He approached the pool where she waited for him, wrapped in a towel, all kinds of tragic and lovely. \n\n\"I am alive,\" He began, his eyes tinged with something unreadable, \"You have called for me?\"" }, { "author": "Hieiaa ~ Quieiee sf tnie Gsdz", "message": "She could feel him before she saw him. There was a raw energy that hung in the air before Zeus arrived, and Hera had always secretly thrived on it, that zap of excitement. Even after all this time she was madly in love with her husband. She hated him yes, but she loved him more fiercely than any wife could a husband. It was her destiny after all, and that is why she despised him so. He was given a gift, a lifetime of a partner, endless loyalty and devotion, and yet...
\n.\n
Hera shook some of the droplets out of her long, chocolate hair. Did he still find he beautiful? She knew she was, but even with her heart guarded, that young woman inside who had been amazed by his acts of heroism always wished for his approval. She couldn't show it however. Weakness was something she had learned to guard against over these many millennia. She hid her emotions in a labyrinth even the King of the Gods could not find, nor did she believe he would even try anymore. 
.
Hera rose and moved to her husband with a swiftness only a Goddess could have, placing both of her hands on his chest, she leaned up and kissed his cheek with her soft lips. She inhaled, searching for that petrichor scent, reveling in it until... There. Of course. Perfume, sex, sweat, and a lone blonde hair on his collar. Her fingers deftly plucked the strand, so different from her own, and stepped back, examining it in the light. 
\n.\n
\"Another blonde?\" She tutted and casually let the strand fall from her fingers. \"You are getting predictable, husband.\" Hera turned and moved to sit on one of the stone benches. She didn't scream anymore. Well, unless wine was involved. Screaming had done nothing, and now he would be left with icy indifference and biting remarks that hid the pain and hurt within. 
\n.\n\n\"While you were having some... Afternoon delight as the humans call it, I was being attacked by your brother.\" She let the words hang heavy in the air for a moment. \"The whole city was, Zeus. And not by the brother you think.\" She snorted, staring at the water as if that prick Poseidon would appear out of the depths. \"Hades. It could have only been him. Thousands of the mindless dead roaming the streets, the sun blotted out, leaving us in utter blackness.\"\n 
.\n
Her tone grew more and more frustrated and she got up, starting to pace towards and away from him. \"War on all sides now? I knew you and your oceanic brother couldn't stop yourselves from ruining whatever slice of peace we could have carved out for ourselves, but Hades to? What have you two done to incur his wrath?\" She spun to face him, her eyes glowing that violet color that seemed to expose her temper, marching right up to him with her chin tilted towards the sky so those burning eyes met his own. \"You will need me in this fight Zeus. I have forever been loyal to you, stood by through all of your messes, your ego, your prideful decisions that hurt *Everyone* Around you. If I walked away now?\"
\n.\n
Hera turned on the spot, her wet hair lashing out at him like a whip before she started to walk away once more. \"No one would follow you if even the most loyal to you fell away the one and only who has *Never strayed from your side. If I left, who would believe in you? I think many of the Gods would applaud me for leaving, you know? In this day and age, women leave, divorce, start over.\" She turned back and crossed her arms, one perfectly sculpted brow raised. \"You would of course have your blondes though. I'm sure they will come in handy during a war between the strongest of Gods.\"" }, { "author": "antichrist2828", "message": "Zeus peered over at Hera with an uncertain gaze and downturned lips. As she moved closer, there was a knowing air about her. Her hands rested gently on his chest, and he felt electricity buzzing in his abdomen. When their lips met, his fingers tightened around her wrist. His eyes remained slightly open, a detachment in his gaze. He watched as she plucked a blonde hair from his collar. Unsurprised, she pulled away. He did not attempt to keep her there. When she spoke it was bitter, and all too familiar. Before, it had not been her typical tune, but it had become that way. She turned from him and he exhaled slowly, his eyes met the clouds. \n\n*\"Another blonde? You are getting predictable, husband.\"* \n\nHe did not enjoy upsetting her, he just simply did. Observing her find solace on the stone bench, he remained at a distance. His hands clasped behind him, his expression etched into a rigid line. Understanding her had become a labyrinthine task; what once was harmonious had dissolved into a silent enigma. He concluded years ago, he mostly did not know what to make of her. There had been a time when their lives were intertwined in seamless unity, until he had awoken one day to the stark realization that he know longer knew her. \n\nDespite the turmoil and the reflection of their discord in every broken mirror, he wished to wake up next to her. His soul yearned for her presence, for the comfort of her shadow trailing behind him. He demanded both unconditional love and complete freedom.\n\n*That was why he was terrible.*\n\n—\n\nHe absorbed Hera's words, a chilling narrative painting the chaos that had unfurled. Dead wandering aimlessly through the streets, a world draped in darkness with the sun stolen away. As she spoke, the fog of his memory lifted, revealing flashes of the banquet's pandemonium—unfamiliar faces, the staccato of gunfire. Persephone had been wounded amidst the fray, and now retribution was in order. To him, it seemed a fitting course, yet not one he was responsible for. Prudence held his tongue in check, so he offered only his vigilant gaze as his wife wove her tale, but even in his silence, accusation found its way back to him.\n\n*\"What have you two done to incur his wrath?\"*\n\nAs her words hung heavy in the air, they began to gnaw at him. He had tried to be civil, but despite every ounce of his discipline, he would not say silent in the face of accusation. He scowled, hardly a second passed between her words and his. \n\n\"*I* Have done nothing. You forget who called for this war. You forget who set the city into disarray. There was an attack upon their castle, in *Response* To all Poseidon brought upon us.\" There was a hasty pause, \"You may hate me. I will not allow you to turn everything upon me.\" \n\nHis gaze was fierce, but he remained statuesque. There was a time her name rolled off his tongue like it was sacred. Yet, like all things, her glimmer lessened. Zeus was a being impossible to satisfy, and when there was no new adventure in her, he looked for it elsewhere. With everything to win, all he lost was her. The world would continue to turn, Olympus would stand, and somewhere along the way he taught himself they were far from compatible. So, was it not his right to find where he was desired? She pivoted, a whirlwind of chaos, her gaze aflame with crackling energy. In her wrath, she was a spectacle of raw, untamed beauty. Standing before him, she spoke with blades on her tongue. \n\n\"*If I walked away now, no one would follow you.*\" \n\n—\n\nHer words etched at the core of him. It was ignorant- *Blasphemous* To even suggest. To insinuate his worth was tethered to her presence was a notion he deemed preposterous. Having Hera on his arm was a privilege, hardly a necessity. A sardonic grin twisted at his lips as she pressed on, the clouds above them began to grey. \n\n\"My authority rests on *No one's* Shoulders other than my own. With or without you, the men know where to pray.\" He spat, his words turned sour. He looked down at her, dark hair hanging over tired eyes, his wicked mouth turned down. His last ten words had been stripped bare, with nothing but truth in them. He had built their house on secrets and red wine, he did not know why she begged for any different." }, { "author": "Hieiaa ~ Quieiee sf tnie Gsdz", "message": "Hera tensed as he spoke. They threw such barbed words at one another in tones laced with poison. She remembered what it used to be, eons ago. Free from their father she and Zeus had found one another amidst trauma and glory and pain and hope. They had clung to one another and given eachother strength they didn't possess alone. \n.\nIt seemed her husband had forgotten that fact. \n.\nHera didn't mind being wrong as much anymore. Years before she would have argued till she was blue in th face, screaming that her ill fortunes must be traced back to him, but instead she simply nodded. \n.\n\"I apologize. You cause so much pain to me Zeus, I did not think assigning yet another slight to you would carry much weight. You do not care when other actions harm me, what would be one more?\" She shook her head and snapped her fingers, a maiden appearing with a robe and two glasses of wine. \n.\nShe took hers and gestured for Zeus to take his. This was not going to get uglier without it so they both may as well indulge to ease the hardships they brought on one anther. \"I hope Persephone is alright, she was always a kind girl. It is good to see a husband protect their wife...\" The words didn't hold the same sharpness as her others had, simply longing. \n.\n**\"My authority rests on no one's shoulders other than my own. With or without you, the men know where to pray.\"**\n.\n\"Do you truly believe that?\" She turned fully to stare at him as if confused in earnest. \"Do you honestly believe you got here on your own, that you have kept this throne... On your own?\" She shook her head and took a long sip. \"Zeus, already Gods turn from you. Where is our son, the God of War? Is he at your side? A faithful leiutenant who will keep the rest in line? Where is Artemis? Who do we have? An army of your bastards?\" \n.\n\"Men may know to pray to you Zeus, but it is not ancient times. Women know where to pray too. I hear those prayers. The ones telling me the Goddess of Marriage deserves a real one! Image matters in t\n\nHese different times husband, and yours is tarnished gold, even amongst our fellow dieties.\"" }, { "author": "antichrist2828", "message": "*\"I apologize. You cause so much pain to me Zeus, I did not think assigning yet another slight to you would carry much weight.\"*\n\nZeus observed Hera, his gaze dull and unmoving. She was an angry storm of a woman, with fury in her eyes and a broken heart he did not know how to mend. Their differences were uncanny, a reflection so precise it reminded him of how they got there. He held no desire for the trials of courtship, nor did he care to mend what he destroyed. He wished to come and go with ease, he did not favor strings attached. All Hera consisted of were strings. The more he tried to smooth her out, the more she ruffled against him. She did not want to be kept, he was sure, she wanted to be loved. \n\nNow, she spat at him with a displaced anger, one that stirred up everything he had ever done in her chest. He swore he saw it when she looked at him, she was never angry about only one thing. \n\nWith a snap of Hera's fingers, a maiden emerged, bearing wine. He observed her drape the robe over her shoulders, her raven tresses sleek against her neck. Her eyes, weary yet resolute, met his. There was a silent command urging him to accept the offered glass. It was an act of civility, but one he could not yet choke down. He met the gesture with a cold stare, his disapproval etched in the hard line of his mouth, lips downturned in a silent rebuke. He found their proximity to be repugnant, particularly when she was cross. \n\nBeside him, the maiden stood with an innocent curiosity, the chalice of wine poised on a gleaming slaver. He turned to her, his eyes seething with malice. The words that spilled from him crawled through gritted teeth, \"Why do you still stare at me? Leave my sight before you have no chance to.\" \n\n—\n\nThe woman stared up at him with eyes that grew like saucers, her lips parted in horror. The platter balanced on her palm slipped as she stepped back abruptly, red wine painted the stone beneath them. He observed her frantic retreat, nearly stumbling before she disappeared around the corner. \n\nHera began speaking of Persephone's marriage, her voice quivered with longing. She spoke of a connection she dreamt of, and the reality was nauseating. Amidst the crescendo of war's call, she chose *This*, of all battles, to wage. He was wearied beyond words by these conversations. He would not devote another ounce of energy to them, so at first he offered nothing, only an unyielding, vicious glare. \n\nUntil she crossed the line. \n\n\"Do you honestly believe you have kept this throne on your own? Who do we have? An army of your bastards?\" \n\nHer words ignited a flicker of ire in his chest, before it swiftly fanned into a blaze. A flush of heat warmed his cheeks, his jaw clenched as her bitter accusations flew. Overhead, sullen clouds rolled in, thunder growled in the distanced, sending ripples across the water's surface. He wanted to bark back at her, that he knew she was not the reason he stood there. He had an army behind him. She did not keep the crown on his head, *He did.* But, he had to be careful about what he said. He would not push her from him completely, not when next to him was her rightful place. \n\nA steady rain began as his lips parted, venomous words spat back at her. \n\n\"We are at war, you cannot find better things to cry about? You think turning from me now would fix this? You wish to rally against me, so be it. But you are Queen of Gods as long as I am King. Your childishness is *Disgraceful.* The pillars of Olympus rest on this war, and you whine about issues we have had for eons.\" \n\n\"I believed you were fierce, once. Now- I do not recognize you.\"" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "A sacred space where the goddess of the hearth tends to an eternal flame." }, { "author": "Pallas Athena", "message": "Thunder brewed outside the tranquil space of Hestia's abode. Olympus had become plagued with more storms the normally ever since the conflict between the gods commenced. Leaving Mount Olympus a darkened and gloomy shadow compared to its former luster. Yet even still, within it's confines was the Goddess Hestia, dutifully tending to her eternal hearth. It was a place of sanctuary, and one that even the Goddess Athena could feel at ease in. It was a risk coming to Olympus, for her presence could draw unwanted attention. Hence why Athena came in the appearance of an owl, the goddess flying through an open window to land upon a pillar. The small bird let out a soft hoot in announcement. Hestia had requested her presence and Athena was not one to deny her treasured Aunt. \n\nPallas could only suspect that the reasoning for this meeting was for the continuation of their last conversation. A talk of allegiances, and the state of the family. Athena could not bare to see Hestia get consumed by the violence passions of Poseidon, who would no doubt use any asset he could acquire for his own gains. Even his own sister. Athena would not stand for it, and had pleaded with Hestia to join her in neutrality where they could find a way to end this conflict peacefully. Athena could only hope that her Aunt had taken her words to heart.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Hestia", "message": "``The Goddess of the Hearth fought hard to keep her place of harmony a tranquil place, even amidst the currently brewing & raging battle between her brothers. While she seldom got visitors, and even less from the mortals who may need it, her Hearth still remained a peaceful sanctuary for all, even if it was often times only her that occupied it.\n\nThere was not a lot either of her brothers could do to displace the peaceful Hearth. Despite her verbal affiliation with her brother, Poseidon, she remained neutral. Either way, there was not a lot either of them could do to ruin the place, without detriment to themselves.\n\nWorking in a trance, the isolated Goddess would've forgotten her summon of the other Goddess that now occupied her space, fluttering in through the open ceiling that billowed white smoke from the eternal hearth. Hearing the landing of her disguised niece, she would give a soft sigh, setting her tools down, before stepping around the blazing hearth to look at her.``\n\n\"Welcome, my dear niece.\" *She would say softly, walking over to a small stone bench in the circular room, and sitting beside the spot where the owl had perched* \"I cannot recall if I have had the pleasure of you visiting my Hearth before. How are you?\"" }, { "author": "Pallas Athena", "message": "The disguised goddess watched Hestia patiently, fondness within their avian gaze as they were not keen to interrupt the hard working Goddess so abruptly. Athena had always held her aunt in high regard, as she was one of the few within their chaotic family that did little to add to the discourse. Hestia was as constant as the flame she tended to. Someone Athena could trust, no matter what boarders were placed between them. \n\nIt was only when Hestia eventually spoke did Athena come out of her guise. Fluttering off of the stone pillar, the Owl would erupt with soft flash of light, transforming into a stately woman wearing a long flowing blue cloak. No doubt in order to hide her appearance from potential onlookers. The woman reached up to undo a hood obscuring their face, revealing the fair features of the Goddess Athena. A small, but affectionate smile graced her lips, as the flames from the hearth warmed her usually frigid steel like eyes. \n\n\"I must confess, it has been many cycles. Too many.\" Athena responded, her tone holding an unusual sense of weariness for a Goddess such as herself. \n\nAthena would take a seat next to their aunt, their attention solely on the hearth goddess. \"As to how I am?... I persist, as always. However, I am much more interested in how you are fairing, dear aunt.\" She said, before turning her attention to a particularly powerful bolt of lightning striking outside. A streak of annoyance graced Athena's features before turning back to Hestia. \n\n\"I can not stay long I'm afraid. My presence on Olympus will not go unnoticed indefinitely, and I am no mood for a confrontation.\" Athena warned. \n\n||" }, { "author": "Hestia", "message": "*She would smile at the disguised goddess that decided to join her. It was an expression of acknowledgment, and a plea for forgiveness, as she hastily finished her duties.*\n\n*She too enjoyed her niece's company, as seldom as it may have been. She was wise, understanding, and despite being a goddess of war, still knew the harm unnecessary conflicts wrought. She was happy to be trusted by her, and was delighted to say the same for Athena. Despite her initial affiliation with her brother Poseidon, against Zeus' grip of iron, she soon found herself withdrawing from both of them, as Poseidon's anger and violence rang through.*\n\n*As Athena disappeared behind the light of the Hearth, Hestia would barely flinch at the flash of light that burst forth. It wasn't much different from the flashes of embers that spat back after various forms of accrued fuels were cast into them. She gave little more than a polite blink, before her smile widened, looking into the focused eyes of her niece.*\n\n\"Indeed it has, dear.\" *She would respond with a gentle nod. It was rare that Hestia got visits from most people, truth be told. Her service was more radiating than the other gods and goddesses who may take commissions. One did not need to see the goddess of the Hearth, in order to feel her effects. And her duty of care was often lost upon the nigh-immortal deities, or her presence being unknown to many of the demigods and mortals. It gave her more time to work, sure, but it also made her reclusive.*\n\n*She would give a welcoming look to Athena, as the goddess sat beside her. She would give an understanding nod at her cautious response, raising her head at the bolt of lightning that stabbed through the sky, visible through the circular vent in the roof.* \"I have been well, dear. Better, as of late. The champion I appointed is making strides to help me be more active\" *She would remark fondly, before focusing back on Athena's presence.*\n\n\"I understand... As big a shame as it may be, it cannot be h\n\nElped nowadays. I am seldom in such a mood myself, so I shall be prompt.\" *The hearth goddess would take in a deep, steadying breath, being calmed by the homely scent of her domain. Then, she would open her eyes, and looking upon her niece with a serious expression.*\n\n\"We both know of your uncles' pugnacity. While they know restraint, it is often lost. When my brother, Poseidon, brought up a rebellion against Zeus, I was inclined to deny, as I often am. But, he convinced me that it would be better for all... For... The mortals...\" *She would give a wistful look into the Hearth's flames, as if seeing something Athena could not. She closed her eyes, before continuing.*\n\n\"I was a fool, blinded by my family's promise. When I noticed, I came to you, after I heard about your efforts. And I will be honest, I wasn't sure if your group would be much the same. But... R-recent developments have made me change my tone.\" *She would give a stern look back to Athena* \"So tell me, dear. How will we fix this issue, without turning to the ways of your uncles?\"\n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": "trentino.", "message": "*\"The palace of Sol (the Sun) [Helios] rose high aloft on soaring columns, bright with flashing gold and flaming bronze; the pediments were clothed with sheen of ivory; the double doors dazzled with silver—and the artistry was nobler still.\"*\n\nHome to Helios & others." }, { "author": "Plutus, God of Wealth", "message": "It was rare to see Plutus with so little gold adorning his body, but he liked to stand out even when there weren't many people around to appreciate him for all of his worth. In a palace made entirely of gold, truly standing out was a tall order, so rather than dress in something that would make him blend into the walls, he chose a more subtle route - one that wouldn't diminish his character. A white tunic with a dark gray floral pattern etched by hand around the collar, the shoulders, the sides. Fitted black pants with a similar but more subtle pattern in muted gold down the right leg. Black heeled boots with gold tips. A touch of gold jewelry was a must in every outfit he wore - there were no less than three gold rings on each hand, and a gold coin pendant around his neck. \n\nHe strutted into the Sol Palace as if he owned it himself, stopping in the foyer to rest his hand on his hip and look around. A servant greeted him properly with a bow, and queried about what he needed. \n\n\"Tell the God of the Sun that his favorite person is here. I'll be waiting in the throne room.\" \n\nHe said nothing more as he sauntered off through the familiar corridors, heels clacking against the hard floors and echoing in the silence. He didn't bother looking around for familiar faces, not caring for anyone else than the man he was there to see. Servants remained quiet and mostly unseen, and if any of the family were around, they didn't make themselves known to him.\n\nThe doors to the throne room were opened for him as if he was the returning king, and he smirked at the sight of the familiar seat across the room. Plutus had seen much of the palace erected under his watchful gaze, helping his old friend with any issues and giving his opinion whether it was asked for or not. There was hardly anything in that palace that he didn't know about, but the throne was of particular interest to him. \n\nHe walked up the steps in front of the throne before sinking down into the chair with an embellishing sigh. He propped his legs over one arm and leaned his back slightly over the opposite, eyes closing as he enjoyed the moment to himself in such a glamorous room. \n\nHelios could take his sweet time. Plutus was comfortable." }, { "author": "Helios", "message": "The servant made haste to inform Helios of the God's arrival and found him seated in his library, a room that would almost rival the library at Athena's university. Rows upon rows of books encased in deep oak wooden cases made a nice contrast to the warmer gold tones of the room that were dimmed to give a more cozy feel. He heard the door open but didn't glance up from his book until they spoke, \"My Lord, I was told to tell you that your favorite person has arrived.\" That had made his gold irises leave the pages to look at the attendant as he closed the book. He was ready to ask where Circe was, only for them to follow it up with some clarification. \"It's Plutus.\"\n\nThere's a certain excitement a father felt when their children visited, especially with his daughter whom he adored, so his excitement dimmed when he was told otherwise. Nevertheless, it was still a presence he enjoyed. He rose from his chair and set the book down on the table before fixing his robes. \"Very well.\" He didn't need to ask where he would find Plutus, after all, there was only one place the man would find himself in. Walking down the pristine halls of the palace, he made his way to the throne room that was situated at the end of one of the halls, its entrance being two large doors that had the sun's rays carved on both sides, with rubies and emeralds outlining the outside. The doors alone would have been enough to buy him all of Rome once upon a time. \n_ _\n\nEntering with a low creak, Helios filled the room with warmth as his presence became known. His eyes fixed on the throne ahead, seeing the God of Wealth casually sitting upon his seat as if it were made for him. Funnily enough, he made it work for him in his favor, once again proving that extravagance and regality suited Plutus as much as it suited the Sun. Most Gods would have found it offensive to have another in their place, but Helios found it amusing as much as he found it endearing. He *Knew* Plutus and that's what made it all the more acceptable for him. \n\nThere were no attendants in the room with them, most off doing their duties or simply hidden away until either of the Gods needed them. \"Plutus, I wasn't expecting a visit from you today.\" Around him was a bright aureole that slowly dimmed as he got closer to his friend. The God had aged as the years passed, his once youthful features now adorning wrinkles along his eyes while his black hair had streaks of grey. He had grown out his beard and kept it neatly trimmed, which suited him handsomely, though it gave him a more stern look than when he was without it. He wore traditional tan and gold robes, the outline a sand color engraved in small crystals that caught the light as he walked to the throne. It complimented his sun-kissed skin. Above his head was his crown of 12 rays that shimmered as if you were looking at the sun itself.\n\nReaching the top of the stairs, Helios stood, asking, \"What is the occasion? Have you and your mother fought again?\"" }, { "author": "Plutus, God of Wealth", "message": "A playful smile gently teased Plutus's lips as he sat comfortably on the throne, eyes closed and head relaxing against the back of the chair. He nearly nodded off while he waited for the Sun God to appear, but the moment he heard the creak of the large doors and felt warmth take over the room, he knew who had entered. Still, he pretended not to notice, refusing to react to the presence that approached the steps of the throne with a leisure gait. \n\n\"Then I imagine you were pleasantly surprised when you found out I was here,\" He said, eyelids finally parting slowly to reveal two golden eyes staring up at his old friend. \"You're welcome.\" His presence was always a blessing, after all, and he refused to believe otherwise. \n\nHe made no rush to explain himself, which he regretted for once because it prompted Helios to ask questions - one of which immediately made him scoff and throws his head back with a dramatic flair of annoyance. \n\n\"Dearest Helios, why would you even bring her up? I was having such a good day.\" He would have liked to never think about her again, but people loved to prick him with mentions of her as if he cared what she did in her daily life. He knew Helios's question was innocent, but it was still a quick way to earn an eyeroll from the god of wealth. \"Do I *Need* A reason to want to see the one man who can literally brighten up my day? Make my gold glint in the light?\"\n\nHis lips twitched as he finally stood up from the throne and faced Helios. \"I brought you a gift.\" Plutus wasn't known for his generosity, but people he considered friends were almost always an exception. \"I'd usually send a servant, but I couldn't resist seeing you in person. I know you see *Me* All the time.\" \n\nHe snapped his finger which echoed across the large room, and moments later, one of the servants came rushing in with a beautifully wrapped package. Plutus grabbed it and dismissed the serveant with a toss of a gold coin and a wave of his hand to shoo them away. \n\nInside the package was a beautiful gold cloak fit for no one less than a god. An image of the sun was etched into the back, surrounded by a pattern of its rays fanning out like wings. \n\n\"I'm sure you'll like it.\" He offered the gift with a smirk." }, { "author": "Helios", "message": "It was almost humorous how different yet similar the two Gods were. Their love for extravagance, luxury, and discontent with others' actions drew them together, but their temperaments differed greatly. Helios' conservatism was akin to water while Plutus'' easygoing nature was oil, yet they still managed to be content in each other's presence. With an amused expression, the Sun welcomed his friend's visit, stating, \"It's always a pleasant surprise whenever you come unannounced, my friend. My home is as much yours.\" 
\n\n
Sol Palace, Helios' sanctuary, was not open to all as most gods and goddesses were too chaotic for his liking. However, the God of Wealth was an exception. His lips quirked slightly as he recalled their last meeting, \"I am only guessing. The last time you visited, you went through most of the wine and said something along the lines of, *\"The next time I see her, I am going to give her a piece of my mind...\"* And other things I would rather avoid repeating.\" Was this his way of teasing the younger? Though Plutus' comment after made a huff of laughter push through his nose. 

\n\nWhen a present was mentioned, Helios's attention turned to the attendant who brought out a wrapped package. After receiving the gift, Plutus was rewarded with a gold coin, though Helios couldn't fathom what the attendants did with them, as they rarely left the palace, let alone got paid. Opening the present, Helios inspected the cloak. \n_ _\n\nWhen it came to gifts, Helios had so much that it was difficult to find something he didn't already possess. However, the rise of his thick brows and his observant gaze as he looked at the pattern of the cloak, watching it catch the light beautifully as he moved it made the God hum in approval before his gaze returned to him, \"You've always had a good eye, but you've outdone yourself this time, Plutus.\" Praise from the stoic man was a high compliment, especially when he was more critical with his comments, especially these days. \n\nHe placed it on his shoulders, tying it at the front. How convenient was it for him to be wearing their traditional garb? Let alone in tones that suited the cloak? It suited him, making him look more regal than he already usually did which was impressive. \"Well?\" He shot him an expectant look." }, { "author": "Plutus, God of Wealth", "message": "The way Helios welcomed him with such a pleasant countenance was almost unheard of to the god of wealth. Many gods dreaded his presence - a fact that he was not ashamed of - and would sooner wish him gone than allow him into their very own home. Onto their very own throne. But the Sun was bright in Plutus's attendance, and the warm greeting he received was always a blessing. \n\n\"And what a beautiful home it is.\" He should know. He helped Helios decorate it. \n\n\"I don't think I recall the visit you speak of,\" He said, though it was an obvious lie. The devious smile that twitched on his lips gave away the game. \"You should remind me. Word for word.\" The thought of Helios repeating things that he spouted off in an angry anti-Demeter rant amused him. He hardly ever heard the old man cuss or lose his composure. \n\nGolden eyes never left Helios's face as the Sun God inspected the gift. Like Plutus, it was hard to get a read on his tone or expressions; one might think they were related with how little emotion they showed the wake of things they liked. But Plutus thought he might have figured out Helios's tell. The man tended to raise his eyebrows when gifted with a pleasant surprise.\n\nThen again, that might have just been a normal reaction.\n\nOnce he received approval, Plutus's smirk turned into a wider smile, though it was a brief, fleeting thing that showed some teeth before he went right back to the devious smirk. Nothing good lasts forever, after all.\n\n\"Of course I did,\" He said. \"I have impeccable taste.\" He crossed his arms over his chest, but pinched his chin between his thumb and pointer finger in an act of contemplation as he watched Helios wrap himself in the cloak. \n\nGold always complimented Helios's regal frame. He looked like royalty among the gods and Plutus might have bowed to him were he to take the actual throne of Olympus. \n\n\"I don't think you need me to tell you how much it suits you,\" He said, slowly circling around the god to get a glimpse of the whole ensemble. \"How do *You* Feel in it?\"" }, { "author": "Helios", "message": "Helios gave him a deadpan look as if saying there was no reality where he would ever repeat the words said that day. \"I'm sure you can use your imagination to fill in the blanks, Plutus. You have quite an active mind.\" He said. \n\nHis expressions may have been subtle, but they said much more than they let on. He was always someone who was much better with his words and expressive through means, though there were small tellings even beyond that. The room could grow warm, akin to a crackling fire on a cold day or it could grow hot, like an August summer in the Sahara depending on his emotions. In this case, it was similar to the first, showing he was pleased. \n\nHe figured if somehow, *Someway*, Andros found himself amongst his possessions, he would have his eyes drawn to the cape. He would have to keep it safe from him and that new *Girlfriend* Of his who seemed to find herself around his home more than he would have liked. \"Indeed you do. You're one of the few that I could relate to in terms of taste.\" Grandiosity was Plutus' forte but given the palace itself, Helios shared that with him. However, he wasn't one to boast in public, not when everything else spoke for itself... Unless it happened to be the rare occasion that someone would dare to attempt to undermine him. \n_ _\n\nHow did he feel? He sat on the thought for a moment before answering, \"As if I am back in my prime.\" Back when he was young, less wise but more outward with his confidence to where it bordered arrogance. When he was held on a pedestal, the one that the mortals admired, worshiped, and thanked before Apollo proceeded to capture their hearts. When he was a *King*, in his own way, amongst the mortals. \"It reminds me of what I used to wear on my chariot when I first settled into my role.\" There was once a time when the Sun was his father, or at least what it used to be until Helios was born and became the embodiment of what his father wanted to be. \n\nHis hand smoothed over the fabric thoughtfully as he recalled those times. Before he knew the feeling of anger and how it was like to feel replaced, where there was no competition and he simply was all there was when it came to providing the life source that was the Sun. Back when times were simple.\n\n\"I am sure Zeus would have it snatched at the sight of it.\" He said as he drew himself out of his thought. \"It's befitting envy. Though, now I must find something of the same value for you.\" The value that was so much more than just the monetary means, not when the God already had all that money could offer. \"For now, some ambrosia will have to do until then. I've asked Hebe for her best.\" He proceeded to take the cloak off, carefully setting it in the box before waving his hand. The same attendant would come out and he would tell them to bring it to his chambers before looking at Plutus. \"I would suggest we drink here but there is only one seat. I'm sure the chair of my study will make a good enough substitute for the throne.\"" }, { "author": "Plutus, God of Wealth", "message": "One of the many reasons Plutus enjoyed Helios's company was how agreeable the Sun God could be, even in circumstances where others wouldn't be. His own arrogance and snobbishness turned most people away - which was usually intentional - but Helios was different. He embraced Plutus's less positive qualities and went so far as to support him. \n\nSo the moment Helios agreed that he had really good taste, Plutus beamed with pride. \"You're feeling rather complimentary today,\" He teased with a smirk. \"But it's easy to relate when you have just as good of taste as me.\" So many compliments and it wasn't even lunch time, but Plutus was generous with his words when it was someone he respected and admired. \n\nStudying how his friend looked in the cloak, Plutus nodded his agreement to the simple statement. Helios certainly looked as regal, but Plutus would argue that Helios never left his prime. He was older and wiser, sure, but he was just as strong and respectable. Just as deserving of wearing something fit for a king among gods.\n\n\"Maybe you should bring that style back,\" Plutus said. \"I always thought it suited you.\"\n\nThe idea of Zeus snatching the cloak from Helios made Plutus roll his eyes. \"And what would he do with it?\" He asked. \"It wouldn't look good on him.\" He paused, thinking about the possibility a little more. Did he have the cloak made a little too beautiful? Would the God of the Sky truly take something so obviously meant for the Sun God? \"Well. If he did, I would have another more beautiful one made for you. Simple as that.\" \n\nAnother smile made an appearance on Plutus's lips at the announcement of a gift in return. He couldn't deny loving gifts, of course, as he was just as happy to receive something - if not more so - than give things away. And he knew Helios to be just as good at picking out the perfect gifts.\n\n\"Uh, I thought you would never offer,\" He said with a dramatic groan, rolling his eyes back. \"I'll have a large glass of the finest ambrosia you can give me.\" He pat Helios on the shoulder as they stepped down from the throne together, casually making their way toward the study. Plutus knew where it was, as he had been in and out of Helios's home more times than he could count. \n\n\"You should just convert all of your chairs into thrones - then they would all be worthy of our asses.\" His lips twitched into a smirk as he entered the study ahead of Helios and took up a seat in one of the nice chairs. While it wasn't a throne, Helios was right about it being a good enough substitute. \"Tell me, old friend, what have you been up to on this fine day?\"" }, { "author": "Helios", "message": "He shot him a look, \"I could say nothing instead.\" Helios gave credit where credit was due, it was one of his more likeable traits but his honest personality also came to bring him into sticky situations. However, in this case, he didn't mind stroking the God of Wealth's ego with his present. The sight of him wearing the cloak would have been portrait-worthy, though no amount of paints and a skilled hand could ever capture the very essence of regality that Helios exuded at this moment. \n\n\"According to my champion, it's an outdated style.\" Andros, who was once just a mere mortal who impressed him, had become much more than just a champion to the god as time passed. He reminded him of his son, Phaethon, a boy who also lacked confidence in himself when he was alive. It was due to this lack of confidence and need to prove himself that led to his demise and in some way, Andros felt like a second chance to the God, not that Helios would ever admit that nor even acknowledge such a thought. As he took off the cloak, he handed it off. \"Though it is beyond me how cloaks ever managed to not be within the boundaries of style.\" \n\nAs unpredictable as the King of the Gods was, Helios doubted he would take the cloak. There was the slightest glint that came to the Sun's gaze, \"Gold was never his color. It always suited us much better.\" He nodded his head to have him follow as they left the throne room, his dramatic groan making Helios give him a side glance. \"A large glass it is.\" Plutus always did love the finest things in excess so this was unsurprising to Helios. He could always commission Hebe for more. \n_ _\n\nThe study was different than the rest of the palace with its dark oak accents along the ceiling, shelves, and his large desk that faced the large wooden doors. Heavy curtains of velvet hung in front of the windows, left open to give a view of the River Okeanos and the green meadows that the nymphs often spent time around. The light that came in was moderate compared to the near-blinding brightness the rest of his home had. The shelves lined opposite walls from floor to ceiling, filled with old and new books, scrolls, and other ornaments and objects he had collected over the years. His desk had intricate carvings of the sun and other celestial beings along its sides and front, the top left smooth with a book left open further up front and below it, an old tablet. Upon closer look, it had ancient inscriptions that would have made it hard for most Gods to decipher, though most hadn't ever laid eyes upon it. \n\nA sitting area of two heavy armchairs accented in gold sat in front of a large stoned fireplace, above it a portrait of himself in his younger years from a young Italian painter. Helios made his way to a cabinet with glass doors. Its shelves were full of decanters, old bottles that were kept in good shape, and an aged gold carafe and two glasses. \"If I had thrones everywhere I sat, then the allure of having one would fade. Some things are meant to be kept special, don't you agree?\" He brought himself down to sit in one of the chairs as he continued. \"And between you and I, my back prefers the ones in my study these days.\" Even the Gods could grow old even if they were ageless and Helios was older than most. Ambrosia was poured into both of the glasses, a liquid that looked amber yet ethereal - the true drink of the Gods. He held one out to Plutus, a heavy sigh leaving his lips at his question.\n_ _\n\n\"I have been watching Athena.\" He brought his glass to his lips to take a sip of the drink, sweet against his tongue. Usually, Zeus used him as a way to keep an eye on the other Gods and to report anything that seemed off. However, in this case, Athena had brought cause for curiosity within the stoic immortal. \"She's been gathering several Gods to her side, to protect the mortals from the conflict. Even demigods have joined her in her cause.\" They had avoided talks of the war outside of idle mentions, but now, it was clear the situation was getting more complicated and worse. He looked to Plutus, \"I have been thinking of meeting her.\" If he wanted to meet her, it only meant that he was thinking of betraying Zeus. \"I can't help but agree with her sentiment of the mortals not needing to suffer from the God's feud.\"" }, { "author": "Plutus, God of Wealth", "message": "\"No, don't hold back. I'll take every compliment you want to give me.\" Plutus's lips twitched as he held back a wider a grin. Any compliment from the sun god was considered high praise which was a feat in itself since Plutus was usually one to give himself the highest praise imaginable. \n\nHis mood was nearly shot when Helios brought up his Champion. The thought of sharing his powers with a demigod made him scoff, turn his nose up, and roll his eyes. He couldn't help but thank himself that he never took on the burden of a champion. What good would it have done to give someone such valuable power? To allow them to run rampant with it? The mere idea of it had him scrunching up his nose in disgust. \n\n\"You need a new champion. Yours doesn't have any taste,\" He said, settling into the comfortable chair and hiking his legs up over the arm. \"If cloaks ever go out of style, just take my divinity away.\" An empty threat, but one he said with his whole chest. \n\n\"I suppose this is a decent enough substitute for the throne . . . I still prefer the throne, though, backs be damned.\" He smiled and accepted the glass, swirling the drink around a few times as his friend joined him in the next seat. He took a sip before leaning his head against the back of the chair and taking a deep, soothing breath. It was *Such* Hard work being the god of wealth, but he was determined to relax and enjoy the company of one of his oldest friends. \n\nBut then Helios had to bring up a topic that Plutus would have liked better to avoid.\n\nSighing at the mention of Athena and what she was up to, Plutus sipped his drink and averted his eyes. Discussing war and politics was not something he enjoyed doing, but the conversations were becoming more frequent among the gods. People were choosing sides and it was clear he wasn't going to be able to ignore it himself. As much as he tried to, he couldn't overlook the moment Helios talked about meeting with Athena. \n\nGolden eyes snapped toward the sun god at his declaration. \"Meeting her? About what?\" He knew what, but he was in disbelief. \"You can't be thinking of joining her cause, Helios. Zeus will . . .\" He trailed off, not wanting to think about what could happen to his friend if Zeus got angry enough. \"Besides. The conflict will be over and done with in no time. You might as well pick the winning side.\" It was obvious which one Plutus had chosen, but his chest ached at the thought of his friend being on another. \"Don't worry so much about the mortals. They don't deserve your sympathy.\"" }, { "author": "Helios", "message": "Pride was a trait they both shared and praise fed into both of their egos. Helios was simply more conservative about it compared to his friend. The smallest twitch of his own lip could be seen before his expression went back to it's normal non-expressive state. \n\nA new champion. He couldn't see anyone being a better fit than Andros. He was not arrogant yet he was cunning and intelligent. He used his skills when it was needed, yet at other times, he was so introverted and to himself that it made the God wonder why he would be so reclusive despite his talents. His likeliness to Phaethon made him seek a part of him within Andros, admittedly, yet he wanted him to shine on his own. He was simply there for guidance. Yet, he knew he couldn't remain this way for long, not with the war at hand. \n\n\"They'll never go out of style. Not when they suit us too well.\" He echoed in agreement. If the God of Wealth and the Sun still wore cloaks, there was no doubt they'd never go out of style — not that they were the pinnacle of fashion but their flair was undeniable. \n\nAs they both settled into their seats and their drinks, the heavier topic came to hand with Helios' introduction and sharing of his thoughts. He expected some backlash from Plutus, but it still didn't make him pleased. The situation was complicated and he couldn't fault the God for wanting him to keep on the \"Winning\" Side, but what was there to win? Time and time again, a Gods' war proved to be nothing but disastrous to not only the Gods and their realms, but humanity even more devastated by their conflicts. He had always felt for the mortals, but ever since marrying Yujin, he had begun to understand them better than before. \n_ _\n\nHe had always been an observer, akin to someone in the crowd watching a play. Never interacting with the actors or even their story, but trying to grasp a sense of understanding from a distance. As the Sun, his role had always been to provide and in this case, it was no different. Whether it was the Sun and its abundance or his personal protection, he knew which side he had to choose — even if it was a tough choice. \n\n\"I have seen enough of what this war has caused, Plutus. If we as the Gods are feeling it's effects, imagine what they are experiencing. I have seen their encampments, I have witnessed their grief and pain, I have heard their cries of despair. Poseidon and Zeus don't care for them, they see them as dispensable - a necessary loss in war, but I can't see it the same way, not anymore.\" Despite the drink in his hand, he found it difficult to finish the sweet nectar off. He shook his head in disagreement at Plutus' comment on their timely wars, \"This feels different.\" There was a grim turn to his voice. Helios had witnessed countless wars, both before and after the young God's time. \"I'm afraid we haven't seen anything yet. We're just at the beginning.\" \n\nThe wrinkles between his brows deepened as he pulled them together, \"We have a duty to protect them, Plutus. They deserve more than our sympathy. Not all of the mortals are as terrible as you deem them to be. Many are kind and compassionate and do not deserve what is coming to them. If I am to aid Zeus in this war, I wouldn't be able to face myself.\" He knew the repercussions that would happen if he betrayed Zeus. He saw it first hand at what happened to his Titan brothers and sisters, his father and mother, his *Family*. \"This feels like the right thing to do. I only wish for you to understand where I stand, not for you to agree.\"" }, { "author": "Plutus, God of Wealth", "message": "There was not a god in Olympus, the Sea, or the Underworld who could have competed against the eyeroll that Plutus gave. If he didn't have such pristine posture, he would have added to it by hunkering down in his seat to pout while sipping from his glass. Instead, he only did the latter, and tilted it back to finish off in a few generous gulps. He sighed as he leaned his head against the chair and looked over his now empty glass, contemplating, before reaching over to snag the bottle and pour another serving for himself. \n\n\"What's the difference between this war and all the others?\" He asked, though didn't expect an actual answer. \n\nIt was another war for Plutus to involve himself in as little as possible. Another war that he threw money at, but otherwise didn't lift a finger. As he did with most things where violence was involved, he stayed out of it, opting to sit back and observe rather than get his hands dirty. A war between mortals meant less to him than a pebble in his shoe. A war between gods meant just slightly more than that, but how it affected humanity was the least of his worries. \n\nHe breathed out a deep sigh and his head tapped against the back of his chair. \"Helios, Helios, Helios . . . Let Zeus and Poseidon duke it out however they please. It'll be over before you know it and the mortals will repopulate and rebuild and we'll do it all again in another century or two.\"\n\nAs Helios continued to defend humanity, Plutus began to feel a headache forming. He closed his eyes and pressed the cool glass of ambrosia to his forehead as if that would prevent it from getting worse, as if it wasn't his friend's words causing the pressure to build up. The last thing he wanted was for Helios to make enemies in powerful places.\n\n\"*We* Have no such duty, Helios,\" He said, his tone harsher than he meant it to be. His jaw clenched as he realized how his friend had forced his hand in this argument, and there was no taking back the opinion he so brazenly shared. \"*You* Watch over them day in and day out, so you of all gods should know that they are not worth your light. They only love you for what you give them. Take it away and watch how fast they stop caring.\" \n\nHe finished off his second glass before slamming it down on the table between them and standing up. \n\n\"I appreciate the drinks, dear friend. Enjoy your cloak.\" He started for the door, but stopped right before exiting. \"I hope you choose the right side.\"" }, { "author": "Helios", "message": "\"When was the last time the two kings have gone to war with each other? Not without using the mortals or champions as their warriors, not without the intervention of humanities wars, but at each other?\" To think that this was just another war was foolish, for they had never in their lifetime seen Zeus and Poseidon heading the two dominant sides of the war. Whether Plutus responded or not, didn't matter to Helios because the answer was already obvious. \n\nWar always came with monetary gain and the God of Wealth, it was only natural for him to place his bets with the side most likely to win and if it weren't for Helios' growing empathy toward mortals, he would have continued to side with Zeus himself. He was a loyal man, after all, and as controversial of a leader Zeus was, he continued to rule over the heavens and the earth kept order. Helios was one to stray from the chaos of war, having consistently played the part of observer but now, he felt it wrong to simply sit back and watch, only to intervene if necessary. This felt necessary. \n\nHis thumb turned the sigil ring on his finger as the room became tense with their conversation. \"Maybe I am tired of seeing their suffering due to our conflicts. Is it that difficult for you to understand? There was once a time that even you felt sympathy towards humanity.\" *Our* Was used loosely but soon enough, most of the Gods would find themselves involved in the war somehow. He watched as his friend became more frustrated with his view and he didn't expect Plutus to agree, but to at least understand. When he saw nothing of the sort, he felt the frustration rise within himself, especially when the harsher tone was directed toward him. \n_ _\n\n\"You benefit off of humanity and so do I. We have always had that duty, it is you who have turned your back on yours, Plutus.\" He returned firmly, keeping his calm toward the man despite the room's temperature growing warm. \"That is what you don't understand. It is because I see them day in and day out that I know that they are worth my light, and more. You only see humanity for their conniving, thieving, and selfish ways but they are so much more than that. They create, and they love, and they deserve to have their own light shine and not have it crushed by our hand.\" \n\nThe glass slamming brought on a momentary ring of silence between the two. Helios' gaze moved up to Plutus, watching him walk toward the door. There weren't many moments that the God found himself wavering, but seeing the anger from the immortal, a man he saw akin to a son, had his own frustration simmering down to feeling conflicted instead. \"Find it in your heart to try and understand where mine is, Plutus. I will choose the right side.\" He promised. However, which side was right had their once shared road diverge into two paths. \n\nAs the door shut, a long sigh left him, his hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He should have known better than to expect Plutus to empathize with humanity, especially with how it was humanity that had taken advantage of the god and left him scorned to begin with. Even Helios empathized, humanity having turned away from him and favoring Apollo, yet, his anger and discontentment had melted away with the years. He couldn't help but want to look out for them, even if it left him in a minor predicament with his friend. \n_ _\n\nThe Sun found himself seated in his chair for a while longer in thought while having the company of his ambrosia and Plutus' words echoing through his head. He hoped he was making the right choice." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "Zeus' throne room is a majestic hall adorned with celestial pillars and divine tapestries. The throne itself is an ornate seat, symbolizing the supreme authority of the king of the gods. This is where divine councils are held, and important decisions affecting the cosmos are made." }, { "author": "GANYMEDE", "message": "As the young deity leisurely stood on the balcony within his elegant chamber, he was greeted by a breathtaking view of Olympus; warm honey-coloured rays of light caressed his skin as the sun illuminated the realm. From his vantage point, Ganymede gazed over the sprawling magnificence of their divine home, where the clouds effortlessly draped across the pink and orange sky like a work of art on a canvas.\n\nIn moments like these, where he was alone and had time to reflect, Ganymede would forget about the destructive war among the gods and revel in the tranquillity of the picturesque city stuck in time for eternity. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with fresh air before exhaling it. The god felt calm, yet it would not last for long...\n\nSuddenly, a familiar sensation stirred within him like a swirling tempest of emotions hitting the young deity at once, causing him to stumble slightly. When Ganymede ascended to godhood, his and Zeus' emotional connection strengthened, meaning he felt much of his king's emotions, the good and bad. *I need to see him now.* He urgently thought as the god darted from his chamber to search for the ruler of the heavens.\n\nHaving spent over a millennia with Zeus as his lover, cupbearer, and confidante, the deity had few places to search until approaching the throne room. With his hands pressed against the golden ornate doors, Ganymede took a moment to recollect himself before pushing them open to reveal the majestic hall adorned with marble pillars and divine tapestries. There, Zeus sat on his beautifully crafted throne at the end of the hall.\n\nHis footsteps were light as the god stepped into the throne room. When on Olympus, Ganymede wore a pristine white toga, though little was left to the imagination, lined with gold. The god's upper arms were adorned with golden bracelets, and atop his head was a golden wreath nestled in his brunette curls.\n\nAt the base of the throne, the God of Homosexual Love lowered himself into a deep bow as a sign of respect to the ruler of the heavens. **\"My King.\"** His voice was soft. Ascending the steps, Ganymede twirled his finger in the air to allow the empty chalice to be filled with the content Zeus desired. **\"I felt a drink was needed.\"** A radiant smile beamed, his youthful beauty forever immortalised thanks to Zeus.\n\nGanymede gracefully knelt beside the throne, and his doe eyes glanced up at the mighty god who remained seated, curiously gauging his emotions. Admittedly, he was worried for Zeus, especially the toll it has taken since the war. **\"How do you fare today, my King?\"** His hand reached out for Zeus' own, cupping it tightly to comfort him. His touch was gentle and warm, a steadfast anchor for the King of the Gods." }, { "author": "antichrist2828", "message": "In the grand hall of Olympus, Zeus sat upon his throne, adorned with gold and shimmering gems. The room was bathed in a celestial glow, casting shadows across the marble floor. A clock hung ticking on the wall- and he counted each noise as he reminded himself to breathe. \n\nAs he sifted through the voluminous stack of unopened letters, the air seemed to crackle with anticipation, as if the fabrics of the heavens held its breath for him. Each envelope carried a secret, a tale of mortal cries and celestial affairs. Zeus felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, his heart pounded in his throat. \n\nDistantly, his mind wandered back to Hera like it always did. Amidst the chaos, a deafening silence stretched through the halls of their castle. Since their last bitter display, communication had halted entirely, leaving the air thick with a tension so tangible, Zeus believed he could cleave it with a knife.\n\nWith a heavy heart and a breath steeped in resolve, he reached for an envelope, tearing it open hastily. Seeking a fleeting escape from the storm of his thoughts, he began to read.\n\nWith each finished letter, Zeus' brow only furrowed deeper. Though he could not be everywhere at once, his messengers were. One missive detailed temples once bustling with devotees, now lying in ruins; another recounted escalating tensions in the underworld, prompting memories of the attack on Persephone. \n\nAs he sifted through each relentless paragraph, a reoccurring theme emerged: urgent pleas from the mortal realm. Concerns spilled across the pages, questioning the stability of the pillars of Olympus- the very foundations of what the gods and mortals alike had built and cherished. \n\nAnswers were demanded, and Zeus could not have them. \n\n—\n\nAs Ganymede stepped softly into the throne room, his arrival was but a whisper in the storm of Zeus' deep immersion. Only when his voice, clear and resonant, pierced his veil of concentration did Zeus' attention shift, his eyes darting up in surprise from the ocean of parchment. Pausing for a brief moment, he then quickly gathered the strewn letters to stack at his side. \n\n\"*My King. I felt a drink was needed.*\"\n\nZeus observed Ganymede, his gaze shadowed by a flicker of uncertainty. The prince adorned with a golden wreath and jewelry knelt before him, a smile curled on his lips. With a deft twirl of his finger, Zeus watched him conjure a rich, red wine in his chalice. Without a moment's hesitation, he brought it to his lips. \n\n*\"How do you fare today, my King?\"*\n\nSilence swelled around them as Zeus waited to answer his question. Instead, he tilted his head back abruptly, the wine vanishing with a swift, almost violent gulp. The glass thudded back onto the table, its echo sharp in the sudden stillness. Zeus appeared detached, his eyes clouded with distant thoughts. He felt Ganymede reach for him, but the god's touch was fleeting, withdrawn after mere seconds. When he finally spoke, he appeared distracted. \n\n\"What is it you need, Ganymede? I have letters to sort through.\"" } ]

[ { "author": "Boreas, the North Wind", "message": "In the northern half of the city of Olympian, there was a small grouping of groves and trees technically under Pan's purview. They were wild remnants of the city from before true development... But in truth, they were held in sway most of the year by the North Wind. Frozen, dusted in snow, and abandoned, just the sort of place that Boreas seemed to enjoy creating, or so it seemed to most of the world. They were well known to be his favorite place to walk or disappear when he was rarely in the city itself, however, they had been completely unseen by him for a long time, considering that he'd forsaken the city for years and years by current date. Perhaps that was why a certain group had decided to chance their luck.\n\nSnow silently drifted down on a clearing within the grove. The tall pine trees around it had their boughs heavily laden with the stuff, but the ground itself was underneath tons of undisturbed snowdrifts. Sun hidden behind the overcast sky, everything looked exactly like a winter wonderland, perfect for snowmen or angels or a snowball fight, if it weren't for the complete lack of people... And a singular flower. One flower was suddenly pushing its way out of the snow, a lilac of bright white and purple streaks, the pistil extending laden with bright yellow pollen. There was a breeze, the pollen drifting from the flower and landing on the snow...\n\nUnderneath them, the snow quickly began to melt, as it if were under the direct sight of the sun. At the same time, from underneath the melting snow, grass grew up into view and began spreading the same hot disease across the clearing. The temperature across the clearing began to rise... And rise and rise until it was finally a comfortable 75 degrees Fahrenheit. Flowers had bloomed, the boughs of the trees were sloughing off the excess snow, bushes had suddenly grown where there were nothing, and suddenly, there were people. Stepping from the grass and from the trees, nymphs and dryads laughed. Some twenty of them had gathered here in this wild patch of grove, claimed by Old Winter eternally, and yet now rebelling against his will. They were here to party, to retake that which was there, and drive that old barbarian from their trees and new home with that which he hated.\n\nMusic started to play. \"WHAT DOES THE FOX SAY!?\" Incredibly obnoxious music, that was absolutely designed to piss someone off as well as provide a decent beat to dance to, which the nymphs absolutely seemed to have already gotten around to doing. People had already paired up, sometimes three or four of them, as one guy climbed up on a tree and yelled, \"Let's fucking party!\" Before falling back into a snowdrift. In the distance, a group of other nymphs were working together to haul kegs, coolers, and fold out tables into the clearing as the rest of everyone else began the party in focus.\n\nAnd from the top of one tree, a raven sat, watching the whole thing unfold. Before its wings unfurled, and it took to the sky, heading toward the north." }, { "author": "@ Hyacinthus", "message": "In the small clearing deep within the forest was a party of magical proportions. Under the canopy of ancient, snow-dusted trees and the shade they provided, the moonlight filtered through barren branches, casting a silvery glow on the scene below. Twinkling fairy lights were strung between trees and added a touch of whimsical enchantment, while dryads and other spirits danced jovially around in threes.\n\nTrails of shimmering iridescence were left in their wake as they pranced and frolicked, their light and melodious laughter mingling with the gentle crunch of cold, frost-covered soil beneath their feet. The hoot of an owl emanated hauntingly from the darkness of a mass of tangled branches which cast dark shadows - like tendrils - interconnected in a web of chilling shapes upon them.\n\nIn the centre of the unruly gathering stood a beautiful, youthful male, dispossessed of the ability to speak, with an air of bewildered fascination about him. Wrapped in a cloak of deep purple, his bright, violet eyes contrasted against the frozen white surroundings, which was slowly melting by the second. Peeling back to reveal the earthy browns of mud and leaves below its frigid shield, the phenomenon was otherwise irrelevant to the figure in question, who had unknowingly consumed a dangerous concoction earlier on.\n\nThe pesky dryads and their nymph friends had lured him to their party with promises of warmth, hedonism, and revelry. What he thought was a goblet of wine had been infused with enchanted herbs and sweet nectar to conceal the taste of whatever substance or otherworldly magic bent his mind and made him so dazed and complacent to their maddening ways. Shortly after drinking it, the potion had taken effect, clouding his judgement and dulling his desire to leave the clearing completely.\n\n*\"Stay with us, Hyacinthus...\"* One nymph whispered, her voice as soft as the snow that covered the treetops above. \n\n*\"It's far too dangerous for a sweet boy like you out there...\"* Whispered a handsome satyr, whose calloused fingers lifted the male's chin as he looked upon him with fancy and ill intent in his eyes.\n\nThe creatures circled him, creating a soft breeze that stirred the snow. The rhythmic vibrations of the obnoxious music soon became no more than a low, thrumming bass as they sang ancient songs of the forest, their tune weaving a spell of dizzying allure. Hyacinthus tried to resist as his mind struggled against the effects of their poison, his limbs heavy as his willpower faded with every beat.\n\nThe naive god could only watch in a dreamlike trance as the dryads celebrated around him, creating a false sense of timelessness there, as if the world beyond the trees had ceased to exist. Their joy was infectious, their words mesmerising, and despite his desire to resist, he found himself smiling, his heart slowly succumbing to the magic of the night. \n\nUnder the watchful eye of the raven that sat perched on a branch above them, the god nodded in a state of dazed compliance, his slight arms lifted by the hands of strong satyrs, his skin touched and stroked by their roaming fingers and moans. In his face there was terror, a blushing heat soothed by the cool sensation of tears that streamed from his violet eyes. \n\nHe had wanted to forget his life and trusted them to make it so. \n\nA flower in a meadow, compelled to grow high, yet stunted by the shadow of weeds." }, { "author": "Boreas, the North Wind", "message": "A smile spread across his handsome face. The largest satyr of the group couldn't believe that his plan had worked out so well! He had kept his eye on Hyacinthus for days now, having originally noticed him at a party that had gone late at night, playing spin the bottle with a bunch of others. In a moment, the satyr had been smitten, and the only thoughts he'd been able to have for days were about just what it would feel like to run his hand across the god's chest, to feel his lips on a god's, to grip his fingers around those hips that gained enough notice from Apollo to propel a mere fucking mortal from the path to the grave onto the pedestal of divinity. It was like the satyr's every wish had been boiled down and put into a single individual...\n\nSomeone with a fantastic body, a fantastic face, and an easily overpowered, inexperienced god. Finally, finally! He was going to be able to lay with a god outside of Pan's influence... Ugh, fantastic!\n\nIt hadn't taken much persuading at all, once he'd figured out a semblance of a plan, to actually start putting it together. He'd only needed to reach out to a few of his own satyr buddies to tell them the goal, and, well, they started getting everything together. Called up the nymphs, and the dryads, and found the perfect spot to this sort of thing: an abandoned grove at the north side of town. So what if there were rumors around it being the favored grove of Boreas? Everything wild was Pan's domain, and that guy wasn't going to care about a spontaneous party that a bunch of satyrs and other spirits put together! Besides, the North Wind hadn't been seen in Olympian in years, they were perfectly safe out here.\n\nLeaning down and staring at the drugged Hyacinthus, the satyr couldn't help but smile. In his eyes, there was no fear, no terror, there was only the beauty of a sculpture, a thing, ripe to be taken and possessed. Gods weren't people, after all, they were just forces, representations of different concepts... Just like satyrs and dryads and nymphs. Just more powerful spirits. His hand reached out, slowly taking the handsome boy by the chin, tilting his head this way and that like he were inspecting a horse. \"Tut, tut, tut... It's far too dangerous for a sweet boy like you out there... You'll certainly be staying with me.\" He muttered, his tone low and dark, just enough for the god to hear. The satyr was about to move on to the next stage when he noticed something...\n\nThe wind had changed.\n\nBefore, there had been a noticeably warm breeze blowing from west to east, bringing with it the slight smell of pollen and springtime rains. It had been helping the grass, which was growing magically from the influence of all the nature spirits into a pillowy floor, but now... It was definitely coming from the north. It was nothing but a breeze, but it had a chill accompanying it, and it caused the largest satyr, the one that had engineered everything, to stand up and look around. Surely, nothing could be coming? How strange for the weather to change... And then the howl began.\n\nThe breeze steadily picked up to a faster pace, whipping between the bare boughs around the clearing. It started to run with such a strength that the settled sleet along the boughs was being pushed off onto the ground, sounding like giant steps colliding with the earth. One, two, three, faster and faster and faster from the opposite end of the clearing. The satyr could feel his heart start to race. Something was coming, the very deep primal fear of prey was running through his veins. Quickly, no concern with the others around him, he began to bound from the main circle in the center of the clearing, the one underneath an old oak tree that had started to birth new leaves. He bounded, and ran, no one paying attention to him, the music to loud, the drinks too intense, the company too good for them to notice, and he ducked into a cold bush.\n\nAnd that was when he arrived.\n\nA snowy wind whirled at the edge of the clearing, first creating one foot clad in an ancient Greek sandal, and then another. The whirl grew upward, revealing a leather skirt bound with brass and bronze and iron, and then a breastplate cast from pure bronze. It had no lower garment, leaving the arms which generated soon after to be bear. They were covered in old scars, some white and thin, others deep red and textured with rough gashes. And finally toward a head, shaggy with dark black hair except for a singular curl of greying white, with a beard unkempt, not long and well-groomed, but the facial hair of a soldier who had been on campaign for too long.\n\nBoreas hefted his empty hand and within it generated a sword made from pure ice. Still, he stalked forward, the grass at his feet withering dead as he did, as nymphs and dryads were driven before him. The satyr hiding in the bush could feel his knees shivering watching as some of his brethren came together to form a line, running against him. With a slow and careful cut of his sword through the air, the North Wind sent them hurtling back, crashing into each other and the distant tree line... And then the death began to occur. Those without the good sense to flee were slowly and carefully cut down, the only sounds in the clearing after the sound system had frozen were the screams and the terrifying howl of the wind. More and more made it to the safety of the wider trees, leaving Boreas with only a few bodies at his feet, the rest hiding... Hiding and watching.\n\nThe North Wind stalked to the last living thing before him, a boy laying in the grass underneath the central oak. Taking one step more, he raised his icy sword and looked down, prepared to provide the coup de gras of winter, to dispatch another who disrespected his grove.\n\nThen hesitated. The sword arm dropped as his head tilted to the side, before he could resist curiosity no more. Boreas knelt down next to the boy and buried his blade into the earth, leaning down over him to push an arm underneath his back, his hand cradling his neck and head. And then, he got a closer look at the boy who had been left alone in his grove.\n\n\"... Hyacinthus?\"" }, { "author": "Hyacinthus", "message": "There was almost no time before the frigid bite of winter swept the forest with a chill so cold it burned. Deep in his trance, Hyacinthus was unaware of the sudden drop in temperature and the cool wind that rustled nearby leaves with a shivering whisper. As frost crawled across the lush greenery of the woodland like a silver serpent, the forest began to wither under its icy breath, replacing the vibrant colours that once were with a scene of bleak and desolate landscape of frost-bitten trees and ice-crusted branches. \n\nIn the small clearing, Hyacinthus remained dazed, bathed in the pale light of clouds that formed in the heavens above. Light filtered through the skeletal canopy of barren tendrils that sprouted from trees, gnarled and twisted like silent sentinels that stood guard around him. Amongst the dying remnants of nature, the dryads and satyrs who facilitated the god's abduction soon abandoned their enthusiasm for their depraved deed, their carefree demeanours all but gone as the cold crusade of winter laid waste to their delight.\n\nOut of place in such a grim tableau, the young god's radiant beauty stood at odds with the vines enchanted by the dryad's magic that curled and fastened around his wrists and ankles. Complacent as he was semi-conscious, Hyacinthus' state of awareness of his fate became all but clear as he struggled weakly against his constraints, his violet eyes filled with fear and defiance. The faint, ghostly wails of the dryads had suddenly faded and the satyrs no longer danced devilishly around him ready to satiate their primal hunger. Instead, the clops of goat-like hooves left shallow prints in the snow-covered earth, their mocking laughter replaced by the whistle of bitter air. Similarly, the nymph-like forms of dryads and their silhouettes retreated to the shadows of trees that surrounded the clearing, their malevolent eyes watching from the darkness as the arrival of something *Else* Foiled their dreaded machinations.\n\nThe God of the North Wind's form became visible through a swirling mist and was a towering figure that commanded fear. Clad in clothing befitting of an ancient barbarian, he carried a sword that seemed to be forged of pure, unyielding ice, the edge of its blade glimmering with the sharp edge of the indomitable cold. Then, with a mere twitch of his shadowed face, he summoned the full might of the force of winter, clearing the forest with a howling gale that stripped every tree of its crumpled leaves. Snow and frost shrieked as frigid air dispersed the creatures from their hiding places, spinning around the god in a wrathful vortex that spoke of his anger. In an instant, the dryads and satyrs were caught off guard by the stormy onslaught and were forced to recoil in terror. Their laughter died in their dry throats as the bitter cold bit into their flesh, their once-agile movements slowed by the burning sting of encroaching frost. \n\nThe god advanced with relentless purpose, his sword shimmering with a lethal chill as he swung it with a force that seemed to echo throughout the entire woodland. Birds scattered from the barren treetops in search of reprieve as the edge of the blade cut through the air with a sharp, crystalline ring. The first satyr barely had time to react before the icy blade cleaved clean through him in an instant, leaving his corpse to hit the cold ground with a *Thump* Before shattering like glass into a thousand tiny pieces.\n\nThe blizzard claimed the dryads next who fled for the trees, engulfing them in snow and ice that whipped through the scene with blinding ferocity. Their screams were lost in the roar of the storm as their forms became encased in ice or butchered in totality, their expressions of horror frozen in ethereal terror for the rest of time. The young god watched in awe and relief as his captors were dispatched by the wrath of the figure, who moved like a seasoned warrior across the bodies scattered across the snowy ground with deadly precision. When the last creatures fell to the bitter winter frost, the man finally turned his attention to the young Hyacinthus.\n\nHis touch was gentle, belying the strength and wrath of what he had earlier summoned, as the young god began succumbing to the toxic potion's numbing effects. As if by subconscious thought alone, the vines tangled into a barbed mass of thorns around him, but were cut down easily by the same blade that claimed the lives of those that formerly held him captive. The young god stumbled forward, looking at his rescuer with fleeting gratitude and admiration as a large arm wrapped around the back of his head to support it. Then all he remembered was a face - one which he knew. \n\nHis eyes softened with the last flickers of consciousness as the crunch of the sword impaled in the stiff snow pierced the air around them. In the boy's face, there was momentary elation as the cogs began to turn inside his mind, his memories of the stranger clouded and muddied by the effects of poison, struggling to piece together the identity of the figure that cradled him in the throes of their wintery surroundings. Then, through a warm little whisper, Hyacinthus finally spoke his name.\n\n**\"Boreas...\"**\n\nThe gnarled branches of barren trees above snapped with a frightening series of cracks, their tips razor sharp as they reined in on the two gods in the snow below. From the young god there was a quiet, breathy laugh, followed by another sweet whisper as he pacified the retaliation of nature. \n\n**\"Thank... You very much, trees... But I... I think I know him...\"**" }, { "author": "Boreas, the North Wind", "message": "Spirits were one of Boreas's favored foes to fight. While the different sorts of humans, from heavily armored Greeks and Romans to the swift, capable horse archers that descended from the steps, were perhaps the most varied group to confront, spirits had two essential advantages over humans that made them a unique and worthwhile opponent. The first, naturally, was how wily they tended to be; perhaps inherited from mischievous Pan, they were certainly capable of seeing through and creating many an intelligent trap for their counterparts on a battlefield... And often they were the first to notice when a situation was incredibly against their favor. Not only were they interesting in direct combat, then, but also in the chase, for they knew exactly when to run to preserve their strength, and, being related to mostly prey animals, knew how to run to avoid the most trouble.\n\nThe second benefit, of course, was the lack of blood. It was often so difficult to clean off and had a way of getting everywhere after a few strokes. Spirits often either had some form of ichor that froze quickly enough not to spread or were completely fluid-less. Therefore, when his blade of ice made it through the first satyr, bisecting him in half, it was not a concern at all how a sudden burst of scarlet would coat the sword with a hissing heat, spreading up the arm and spraying the god's side with a spattering of bright red fletching. No, instead, it was like a sharp knife had made its way through bread, leaving the loaf standing and together, until the pressure of gravity brought it tumbling apart to the ground, where it shattered into something like a million diamonds.\n\nA select few of them were wrong.\n\nFor one dryad in particular, a rather large icicle that had seemingly grown within the space of Boreas's appearance, decided to fall at the exact moment she ran underneath the tree, landing solidly in her foot, temporarily locking it to the ground as she fell forward with her momentum. This, of course, caused a little trauma as she cried out, her friends ducking out of their hiding spaces to pull her toward safety. Another victim was suddenly beset by an almost microscopic whirlwind of raging hail and ice crystals, leaving her cut, bruised, and nearly unconscious behind a tree. Alive, both of them, but with lessons taught.\n\nNature had an order, one that was to be respected by *All*. Winter was the lesson to Spring's kindness, two methods of learning survival, and just because one happened to be a spirit, an immortal thing, did not mean one was untouchable from a... Teachable moment. That was all Boreas was doing, teaching in this moment not to defy the will of the seasons, the beings greater than the spirits, those who defined nature and worked with it in its existence. Winter was nothing to scoff at, it was Death in its original form, the slow and insidious killer cold that all life had to adapt to, make it through, until once more the Spring would come to rescue them. That was Boreas, the cyclical reaper covered in snow.\n\nTo be honest, he was thinking and moving in almost rote memorization now. His rage and violence were an old cape, something that resisted the rain well and was familiar enough after many nights slept under while out on the road. Something he could throw on in an instant. That was why, when he first noticed the figure underneath the tree, he had raised his sword to strike before the image could process. But when it did, the cape he had been wearing, his rage and his bloodthirst, scattered from his shoulders like so many bare threads just coming loose.\n\nIt felt like he was seeing a ghost. Because, for all intents and purposes, he was indeed.\n\n\"Hyacinthus...\" Boreas repeated, looking down at the young prince he once saw in the ancient wilds of the Peloponnesus, completely ignoring the response of the tree above him, \"You are supposed to be dead.\"\n\nRealizing that perhaps recovering in such an intimate position was not exactly the best for a person who he had not seen in literal millennia, Boreas took a few actions to... Ease Hyacinthus into a more comfortable position. First, his hands dipped down to take hold of the vines that had wrapped around his wrists, the cold of his touch instantly freezing the fibers and allowing him to snap them into green tinted frost in a moment. Similarly, the ones around his ankles were easy enough to shatter with a breeze, allowing the god of winter to more easily pick up the young man. Slipping another arm underneath Hyacinthus's legs, he maneuvered him around the roots and knots of the oak behind him, before laying him against the trunk of the tree so that he was sitting up more comfortably.\n\nPerhaps, after such a terrible scenario fueled by the heat of alcohol and passion, the cool breeze that the North Wind brought with him was much welcomed, but Boreas was... Still cautious about his proximity. The god knelt a decent distance away, next to where his sword had been buried in the dirt and was already starting to melt thanks to the lack of his concentration or his physical connection. For a moment, from the angle that Hy had and the height of Boreas even while knelt in front of him, it seemed as if the clouds in the sky behind him were framed perfectly to give him angelic wings, spread wide over his shoulders, as if they were protecting Hya from any unwanted eyes or arrows... And then the divinity of the other god in the scene broke through a simple illusion. Those were indeed wings, covered in white plumage, spreading from the back of the warrior in front of him as a simple barrier. Of course, it would be so easy for those violet eyes to pierce to the true form of his savior... A scarred, battered, barbaric warlord from the north, with wings like the driven snow." } ]

[ { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Alastor, in his youth, loved to get lost in the woods. He would take long walks, and run his fingers over the rough texture of the bark of the trees. His eyes catching the glimpse of sun beams that poured through the canopy of leaves. \nHis cheeks were soft from youth, yet angled sharply in his prime. Dark brown, medium length hair was pulled back, out of the way in a very small ponytail at the base of his neck. A few loose pieces of hair, much too short to fit in the confines of the makeshift hair tie, hung over his forehead. His eyes were still that striking blue hazel, and reflected the green of the flora like clear pools of water.\n\nTaking off his shoes, Alastor held onto the tanned hide straps with two fingers, as he stepped over the rocks that were nestled in the running river. \nThe water was cool against the sun that was warming the earth. Stepping to the other side of the river, he noticed a little bundle of frog eggs in a carved out portion of the river bank, floating undisturbed. \nIt was amazing to him how many frogs would be born, and how many could spawn. \n\nLeaving the little huddle of eggs alone, Alastor went on his way, gingerly pushing vines up with his forearm so that he could pass through. He didn't have any direction or plan. He thought of very little as he walked. He just took in the sounds of birds, and, the smells of dirt and sweet notes of flowers blooming nearby, and feeling of his nare feet against the moist dirt; of simply being in nature alone. \n\nLittle did he know how untrue being alone was..." }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "As the mortal entered deeper into the woods, he would hear a soft melody of a Panflute playing in the distance. Pan, the god of the wild, sat on a large stone, with sheep that laid on the grass under his feet. The soft breeze of the wind danced around him as the god's long puffy hair flowed in the breeze. Pan skin was sun touched, his horns wrapped with vines and flowers along with his hair. Pan was younger, his skin bare with no tattoos, both eyes a dark brown. \n\nThe god played a soft melody into the day, one filled with sorrow but a hint of hope. The god stuck in a loveless marriage, held onto hope his love would love him any day now. Pan knew he was being delusional, he knew that those dreams of a happy marriage, a family would never come. The gods had fated him to be alone, Eros and the others seem to enjoy his tragic tale. \n\nHe was silent, suddenly as he realized the forest was quiet, his sheep perked up and began to make sounds. The long staff, with a shepard hook rested beside him on the rock. The god looked around till he felt it, the steps of a mortal. Someone had gotten lost in the forest. He let out a soft hum at the realization, feeling the footsteps on the ground of Arcadia, his home, his heart.\n\n_ _\nHe doesn't allow mortals entry to his home for long, scaring them away, the god ears twitched as he tried to hear the mortal. The god pinpointed the man, and sniffed the air, before disappearing into thin air, leaving a soft smoke in his wake. \n\nHe landed gently on the bench above the mortal man's head, staring down at him as he walked through his forest. He followed above silently, and was careful to remain out of view of him but keep an eye on the mortal. Pan hated that a mortal had entered his home, but he was beautiful and he would give him that. His beauty was gentle in Pan eyes, strong jaw and eyes that looked like the ocean or maybe the blue sky, he would have to stare closer. \n\nPan needed to make himself known, scare the mortal away, he was silent till he disappeared again. This time reappearing in front of the mortal a good distance ahead of him, his staff by his side. He pointed it towards the mortal neck. \n\n\"That is far enough, are you a lost mortal traveler or have you entered my home in search of something.\" Pan says, his tone cold, he needed to protect his home from strangers who wish to cause harm. He needed to know his motives." }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "The mortal hadn't heard a single thing when suddenly, the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Alastor whipped around to find nothing behind him, not even up, or, back around a tree. \nIt wasn't until he turned forward once again that he found he'd come face to face with a limb- a edge of a staff to be exact. \nIt truly startled the man, and he pressed himself against a tree nearby, the sharp back scraping against his shoulder and back where the fabric of his tunic didn't reach. \n\nAlastor was breathing heavily, those bright ocean eyes wide enough for Pan to see their true color and even brighter they were out of fear alone.\nWho - or rather - *What* The hell was he staring at? There was no way a God would ever show himself to a simple human... Right?\nDeep down, Alastor knew who was standing infront of him, but had never thought it remotely possible that he'd ever see a God or Goddess in the flesh. He was still only young, and just turned nineteen. \n\nThe God's mane was wild, with vines and leaves curling around his horns. Though his face wasn't like the pictures, and his body was strong. Those legs looked like they could kick his skeleton from his body in one piece. \n\nAlastor had only remembered that the satyr had asked him a question, and if there was anything he was taught about the Gods: they didn't like to wait. \n\n**\"I was — I was just walking i-in the forest, I don't understand by what you mean...?\"** \nAlastor's throat was dry, and he had to swallow several times to being able to stammer out the words. It was obvious that the mortal man was nervous, hell, he was scared! A man with the body of a beast was standing infront of him! \nA sight he'd never thought he'd ever seen, and it was even less easier for his mind to completely comprehend. \n\nAlastor waited, and watched, pinning under the God's gaze, and weapon for his judgement." }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "The staff was anything but a weapon, it was for shepherding his animals within these woods. Though the mortal would not know that, he stared hard at the man before him as he stared at him, the mortal eyes were beautiful in the gods head, and full of fear. He feared him, good. The god needed to be feared, his hooves clicked on the ground as he steady his body a bit, he stared at him. He slowly tilted his head sniffing the air. \n\nHe paused for a moment and his movement was quick as the mortal spoke, moving forward. His nose against the mortal skin, sniffing him, trying to tell if he was lying. His nose against his skin ran down his chin before sniffing his neck, like a warthog trying to smell the shit the man spews. He purred softly, \"You smell of fear,\" He grumbles against his skin, \"What's so scary little mortal, do you fear me, I am only a Satyr protecting my home\" \n\nPan himself was young, in god terms, married and happy... Happy? Sure he is. He hums softly. \"You got lost then... Lost in the woods and forest, going deep, passed the entrance unknowingly and found yourself in Arcadia, the Home of Pan and his Nymphs and Satyrs\" The god says gently into his throat before pulling away making them face to face. His eyes shined with curiosity not anger anymore, amusement of the mortal infront of him. \n\nHe felt the man's hand run down his skin, his hand moved to the side, his nails gripping the tree. It was gentle, not wanting to harm the Nymph that rested forever inside the trees. \"Speak little human, do the felines capture your tongue.\" He laughs gently. \n\nHe kept his view on the man before him, his eyes running down his body, then his face taking everything to remember. If Pan is not held by his own loyalty to a wife, he would chase someone like this, desire for him but he kept to himself. Playful is all the god is now, enjoying the red tinted face, but never going farther. He keeps his hands to himself." }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Alastor watched the God with little expectation. He couldn't be sure what he was going to do. \nHowever, being smelled wasn't one of those things. \n\nHe watched Pan sniff the air, before diving down and trailing his nose down his skin and into his neck. \nAlastor's heart shot up into his throat, slamming hard on the way up. He flinched, initially... But was rather surprised when the purr against his skin caused his heart to beat in an entirely different rhythm. \nThe way his lips lingered against his pulse, brushing along his skin with each spoken syllable, caused heat to stir in Alastor's core. His cheeks flushed red.\n\nThat hungry look was taking him in, and up close, the God was much more handsome than he'd previously percieved. \nA hand teased at Alastor's skin and his breath hitched. \nGods, what the satyr would find when his eyes peered down and then back up. The tunic did little to hide such a adrenaline fllled reaction.\n...\nAlastor couldn't help it. His body was reacting partially in fear and now confusion as he tried to pin any solid thought down, but his mind went blank everytime. \nHe had to suppose that he wasn't completely charismatic at this point, especially not towards a God. Such a being with more power than he could ever comprehend, and there wasn't much he was comprehending right now. \n\nThose thousand thoughts went through him mind and slipped through like sand. \nHe tried to catch that sand on his tongue, feeling out words, even if speaking felt like all those granules were embedded painfully against the muscle. \n\n**\"I-I did get lost. A-and I'm sorry... If it pleases you, I will leave..\"**\nAlastor's eyes studied the other. He felt the warmth of how close he was, and the unique features he had. His eyes were... Dare he say beautiful. Like they were the condensed essence of their forest themselves. They saw things that Alastor couldn't; other worlds and feel space and time in a way that made his existence small and fleeting. \nAlastor was a bit trapped." }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "He could feel his heart skip against his lips when he was close and chuckle gently, his staff on his side as he leaned on it, staring at the mortal man again, staring into his ocean eyes and getting lost in its crystal blue waves. The fear and emotions that rotate in his eyes. Pan didn't fear the mortal in front of him, he was harmless to these lands he concluded an innocent lamb that lost his shepherd. \n\nHe raised his hand up to the mortals cheek then down to his chin, his nails running against his skin. As he stood tall, he raised the young male's chin with him so his eyes followed his tree brown. \"Such a cute thing you are, if I was any other man or monster, I would have eaten you. Satyrs would in a different way that would fill you with pleasure and fear, while most Nymphs in these lands would have led you to your doom. You're lucky I was the one to find you, young lamb\" \n\nHis eyes held a gentle tone now, no longer angry, more amused at the situation than anything, \"It would be wise for you to leave but sadly you are trapped here\" He joked lightly, \"Unless you know the path out of Arcadia? Which I think not.\"\n\nHe moves back, his hooves hitting the ground with a loud thunk, as he walks with heavy steps. His eyes shined, as he held up his hairy hands with long brown nails to match fur. He motioned his hand as a form of \"Come here\" To the man, \"Take my hand, little lamb. I'll lead you back to your herd, and while we walk... I'll allow you to ask 3 questions, if you amuse me... I might let you ask more.\"\n\n_ _ \nPan at this age isn't skilled in his teleportation just yet to steal or take people with his touch. He can take items with ease but other people will only cause problems for the Satyr, so he has to walk alongside the mortal to make sure he reaches an exit safely. It was dangerous for the Mortal to wander these woods without a guide, he wasn't lying when he said the other creatures would harm him, Nymphs and Satyr may be the main creatures under his care along with normal animals but there are other Mythical creatures within his home.\n\nHe knew it was dangerous, he would have to take them to that one exit near the pond and willow tree. It was one of his favorite spots to play music, the willow tree, would be the way for him to exit this land. Going under the leaves then head out again, would lead him back. \"Come mortal take my hand, let me lead you to home\"" }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Alastor was captivated by Pan. His heart lodged itself in his throat the moment he tilted his head to follow his gaze as he stood. Nail grazed his cheek but the skin of his arms bloomed in raised gooseflesh. There was little want to tear away from that gaze that caused his whole body to feel warm and cold simultaneously. It was as if he couldn't be touched enough and needed to be wearing more clothes.\n\n**\"I honesly can't begin to understand how I found the entrance...\"** He confessed. \nHe literally just walked. One moment he was in the forest and then the next, he was still in a forest. It seemed one was different from the other, but there was no discernable way to tell.\n\nAlastor's eyebrows furrowed, watching the God turn and begin to take his leave. The look Pan gave him was peculiar in the way his eyes reflected, unreadable. \nThere was a little seed of doubt that he was even out of the clear, as by the sounds of it, he was in a dangerous place. He was at the whims of a God. \nA hand was extended out toward him, more paw than human hand. Alastor hesitated. Was he supposed to trust this God? Stories had spoken of how mischievous he was.\nHowever, he did want to go home. This was an experience that would likely take days to finally settle in the folds of his mind. He needed however much sleep he could get to try to reset what was reality, and what was a dream.\n\nAlastor finally took Pan's hand, allowing him to lead. His palm was rough, and a little larger than the mortal's own. It was such a strange sensation. His flesh was smooth, like a human's. However the fur that covered him was like a cow's or possibly even closer to a horse's mane. Despite him being part goat, it wasn't short enough to make Alastor think of a goat. It was too obvious and he his mind wanted to associate it with something else, to capture it in a way that was explainable. He wasn't sure he'd tell anyone about this, for he couldn't be sure he would be believed, but at least he'd never forget him in" }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "Pan chuckles at the mortals' words, letting out a laugh after a bit, Arcadia is strange even to the god Pan. \"You are a funny mortal, you do not... Find an entrance\" He says gently, \"You know or get lost and dragged into Arcadia\" His voice was gentle as he spoke, leading the man deeper into the forest. As he walked one of the smaller birds landed peacefully on his horns. Pan didn't seem to mind. \n\n\"Arcadia,\" He says gently, with a chuckle, \"What an amusing mortal man you bought for me, trying to cheer me up old friend, tired of my sad song\" \n\nHe calls into the wind, as nothing replies back, only the soft blow of the wind, the rustling of leaves, and heavy steps of hooves against the dirt path as he walks. Pan grip was gentle as he led the mortal deeper into his woods. Pan knew the forest like the back of his hand; he wasn't worried of getting them lost if anything he was being careful not to lead them to the more dangerous spots in Arcadia. \n\n\"I believe I recall giving you 3 questions. I will take that one as a question, you now only have 2\" He says with a mischievous tone, as he keeps forward. The bird chirped on his horn, making Pan smile and raise his staff to his horn for the bird to hop on, not once losing stride as he walked. Flowing so easily to the whims of the creatures of the forest, he could hear the other animals following them.\n\n_ _\nBirds watching above while a fox follows their trail for a moment before stopping. Deer not far from where they walked, taking their path back to their home. The forest was alive, just as Pan wanted it. No harm would ever come to the creatures in the forest, not by mortal hands at least. Animals needed to hunt to keep alive, and Pan had no plans to stop animals from harming the others unless they ran to him, and made it. \n\nPan glanced over to the Mortal man walking alongside him. He was still, pretty in the forest light, he sighs. The gods were playing a cruel joke on him, testing his loyalty to his wife, he was sure of it. The punishment wasn't enough to her; they wanted to make it worse, or maybe laugh at Pan for being a fool. Pan had already flirted with the mortal, jokingly, but now he... Wasn't sure. Thankfully he would never see the man again, he could hold out for this journey and forget about him." }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Never had he ever thought he'd be so blatantly taken by the hand and led through a forest by a God.\nIt was out a tall tale, and one his friends would never believe.\n\nAlastor opened his mouth to object, but he quickly closed it as he realized that speaking at all may count as a question. Originally he had not asked a question, but made a statement. \nHe watched the other fauna rest upon him as easily as any branch, and the human toyed with the idea that he may be holding the hand of the heart of this place: Acadia.\n\nHe was unaware of the God's internal thoughts, still trying to come up with questions of his own. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Pan tilt his head towards him, his large horns gave him away. \nAlastor turned his head, too, to look at the creature. \n\n**\"I'll save them,\"** He spoke confidently, like his wntire being was clutching the chances to him in desperation, praying that Pan would let that one statement count either. \nAlastor had questions, yes, but he was a firm believer of figuring things out for oneself. He didn't even ask Pan what it was he was thinking or looking at, his free hand curled into a fist around the chances to prob the mind of a God." }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "Pan paused for a moment, his hooves stumbled but he was quick to become upright as he walked. He was shocked at the mortal's answer to his own question, he turned to look at him fully, his eyes full of shock. He wanted to hold his questions, why did he think he would return, why would he believe he would return... Did he want to return? Why, because of... Him? \n\nHe was flustered that a man wanted to see the god again, many would ask the questions now and leave. He felt trapped in a way, like he trapped himself in this man's grasp. \n\nLetting out a faint laugh, he leaned forward towards the mortal, \"Amusing... That's what you are, very amusing. I see why the forest loves you, and allows you to enter. Since you won't ask, answer me this: why did you go deep into the woods? I'm sure that the tale of men getting lost never to return has entered your ear.\" \n\nPan was curious if this man, who so gently looked at frogs and walked through his forest peacefully. The men who entered his home looked for his animals and friends, Nymphs and Satyrs, for hunting. He dislikes that, the only hunting allowed are for the animals themselves, there is an order in these woods that humans so easily disturb, yet this man welcomed it so peacefully. No weapons for hunting or cutting down wood. He wish to know who this man was. \n\n\"And answer me this, little mortal, you are human... Small. Who are you, give me your name, and one day when you get lost in the woods again I can find you\" He says gently, continuing their walk." }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Alastor wasn't quite in the realm yet of being attracted to Pan, as his saving of questions would be out of certainty that he would prove he wasn't like any other mortal out there.\nHis dark hair fell out of it's hairbands and framed his face some, the heat from the weather catching up to him.\n\nAs a mortal, Alastor loved most creatures. He couldn't imagine hurting any animals kutside of the necessary slaughter that would be his meal. Otherwise, he was told stories about the way of the world that fascinated him, and his mother was extremely devoted to fate and karma. He wouldn't have ruined the forest even if Pan threatened him.\n\nAt some point the mortal as fell in line with the God, still holding his hand, however it was only under the premise that he had to be lead out of Arcadia by it's protector. \nThe saytr's hooves crushed pinecone and twig like it were nothing but leaves in comparison. Though, looking down, the path was surprisingly clear, as if nature moved for the God.\n\n**\"Small, perhaps. Maybe you are just large: Godly in stature, I mean,\"** He gave Pan a look that flickered between anxious and coy. How much humor would a God appreciate?" }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "The woods were gentle to the two of them, as he walked them down the path, his ear flicked just a bit as the rustling of leaves in the breeze. The forest was loud, even in the peace of nothingness. The birds remained chirping above them, while the bird on his head sang back. \n\nThe path was getting close to their direction, they had been walking for a while. Or maybe the forest quickened their time, made them closer to where they needed to be. Arcadia was magical and unpredictable, just like it's owner, Pan never understood the forest. Even in the present he struggled with Arcadia, he loved her greatly and Her him, but there was a way to her that never seem to make sense of what she desired. \n\nPan chuckles at the mortal's answer, though he wasn't given a name, he didn't mind, he was just amused at how he wasn't... Scared of him. At least he didn't seem to be anymore. He found it refreshing to him, his tail couldn't help but wag at the idea. He was a copy thing, and he enjoyed coy creatures the most, cunning and smart. \n\n\"You're a funny little thing too, I enjoy that in a mortal, it makes them more entertaining and interesting.\" Pan may be known to cause panic and fear, but he was a peaceful god if one doesn't bother his woods. Which was rare. \n\n\"Little things, should remain little for me,\" He says, staring down at the mortal, who would one day grow taller than him. \"Your words are funny, continue speaking and this time little thing, I want a name~\" \n\nHis voice practically purred." }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "The mortal walked along beside the other, no longer so uptight, but not completely relaxed either. At this point, he accepted that he would have to trudge along next to the God. Though, there was increasing uncertainty that came with Pan expressing that when things were little... That they needed to stay little for him. \nHe wasn't entirely sure what that meant, and the uncomfortable sludge that sat at the bottom of his stomach made him not want to think about all of the innuendos or meanings. \n\nAlastor looked down at the forest floor momentarily, having forgotten that the God had asked for him name. He was very kind in asking a second time, however that second chance was laced with something more primordial. \nThe purr did something to the mortal that he thought had just been done out of fear before. \n\n**\"My name is Alastor...\"** \nWas all he really had the breath to say.\n\nThe human's fingers twitched around the God's hand, and his gaze hadn't met him for sometime as they walked. \nHe wanted to go home, give his mind a chance to crash into sleep and reboot with some sense. \nThey had been walking for some time, much longer than Alastor had thought he'd been in the woods previously. But he had to reason that they no longer were in the same place as they were before - not the forest at Alastor knew anyways. \nHis hand was beginning to grow clammy against the beast God's palm.\nWould he ever get out?" }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "They were closed, and when they made it to the location it was clear. Luckily for the god none of the dangerous creatures in these forests were showing themselves. He felt the twitching of the mortal's hand, and couldn't help but chuckle gently. \n\nAlastor. A beautiful name. It held one meaning Avenger. \n\nHe turns to the tiny creature checking him out before chuckling. \"A name not suited for you, Tiny Creature. Avenger. Maybe with words... But then again there are tiny creatures who bites are painful so...\" \n\nThe god's tone was playful with no true bite to it, the god was teasing the mortal man holding his hand as he led him through the woods. He decided there he would lead him out even if he pissed him, not like they meet again, but he had amused him a lot. \n\n\"Tiny creature will be your new name, only I will call you that.\" He smirks, before saying \" We here\" \n\nHe stepped farther and in front of the two was a beautiful sight, a beautiful pond with crystal clear water, a waterfall. A large and beautiful weeping willow. They needed to enter under the leaves of the willow to exit Arcadia... But he let the mortal take a moment to enjoy the view. Remaining silent before leaning to him and whisper into his ear, \"Beautiful yes, little creature\"" }, { "author": "Alastor", "message": "Alastor's dark eyebrow furrowed as his attention was once more on the God. His name did not suit him? \nAnd then the word that it was associated with had suspicion move in his core. \n\n**\"I think it does..\"** \nHe mentioned quietly. \n\nThere was more to the human's life than he was divulging out loud. This wasn't the strangest occurance that he or his family had experienced with a God. \nThere was some bad blood circulating the veins of his relationships, strange occurrences in the middle of the night, and harassment that would likely tarnish his family name. \nAlastor was the one to step in.\nAs innocent as the human was, his need to uphold the sword of justice was strong. He would not be wrong. \n\nAlastor felt something akin to discomfort finally take ahold of him as he saw his chance to escape. \nThe God leaned towards him, calling him that wretched name and the human finally tore his hand from Pan, eyes sharp as he glared.\n\n **\"...Is it only because I am mortal? I am no pet..!\"** \n\nAlastor pushed passed the whipping branches of the Willow tree and past the waterfall, unwilling to acknowledge it's beauty. He wouldn't be trapped by the illusion of peace. Alastor was on his guard, a distaste for the reaction of the God souring in his cheeks." }, { "author": "Pan | God of the Wild", "message": "Pan looked at the mortal in shock when Alastors hand was torn away from his, he couldn't help but flinch back at the glare and venom that escaped Alastors voice. He watched for a moment, his eyes filled with shock and... Sadness. \n\n\"W-wait- no I-\" Pan tried to call out only for the mortal to run off, Pan chasing asking him a few moments later, \"Wait Mortal- I didnt- stop running\" \n\nPan was panicking, he hoped he didn't ruin this, friendship? He wanted the mortal to come back and ask questions, the mortal promised he would, but Pan messed it up, and they were running away. Like everyone else, why did everyone fear him? \n\nHe is not a vengeful god, sure he has his issues. When he is pissed he lets others figure a way out, if he really dislikes them kicks them out right away. He scares people away and has a tempter to him from all the mistreatment from the gods and others around him. \n\n\"Please- I apologize- I don't think of you as a pet\" He calls out, the mortal passing through where he needed to escape Arcadia making Pan even more desperate. He didn't want to lose something. His heart racing pounding in his chest, he was close to pleading a gods aid but silence that thought. \n\nHis hand reaching out towards the mortal to grab him, Pan wanted to pull them towards him and keep them there not let them escape the tree lines, cause if he did he couldn't follow." } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "An artistic enclave within Pan's Groves is the Sylvan Sculpture Grove, featuring sculptures and installations crafted by gods and mortal artists alike. The grove celebrates the beauty of the natural world, with sculptures depicting mythical creatures, divine flora, and representations of Pan's whimsical presence." }, { "author": "papadrah", "message": "For any art lover, the moonlit evening was a perfect time to peruse the sculpture garden. The lack of light and long shadows cast by the full moon above offered a different sort of view than one might have gotten in the daylight. The creatures that spoke of Pan's whimsy and transient nature took on a decidedly darker tone. While that had perhaps not been the intent of the sculpture. It still showcased a different side to even the most fanciful of gods. A capricious creature could still have fangs and rip the throat out of those who got in its way. \n\nIt was fitting, given what the evening would become. Marigold June had ventured to the garden with thoughts of inspiring herself. Her art-loving mind did not always see the world in shades of what was dangerous and what was not. Beauty, form, and texture were to be admired, and such a garden at such a time was too delicious an opportunity for her to pass up. She had no way of knowing that the Lord of the Underworld was calling his power to unleash the dead upon the earth. \n\nSome miles away, a lone warrior was coming to terms with that very realization, but his arrival was a time off for this particular scene. Instead, it was as Merigold had been in the midst of exploring that a sudden gust of wind would rush through the grove with the scent of rot as her only warning that danger was growing close. \n\nThe dead that closed in upon her position were not burn of this garden. They were migrators, following the line of their last victim towards where their senses told them the next would be. Did they know she was there? Perhaps not at first, but she had been bathing in the full moonlight in the middle of a clearing as if she were some sort of witchy woman drawing her power from the celestial bodies to cast a spell. \n\nAs with most horrible experiences in the woods, this one began with the snap of a twig to alert her that there was an issue, and when her head jerked, it would show that ghoul-like corpses were exiting the cover of the tree line and moving their way towards her. They had the ability to run, but they had not yet sprung into attack mode. Perhaps, for the most part, because she may have frozen to be as still as one of the statues. She was far too beautiful to be one, but the dead could not discern art. Perhaps if she remained still, they would pass her by. \n\nBut mortal reactions were a difficult thing to control..." }, { "author": "maribel june", "message": "Maribel June found solace in the art of others, a yearning to know what their mind thought, their eyes saw, as they sculpted the beauty that lay before her. Pan's Sculpture Grove had always been a personal favorite in this, a meeting of nature and art in ways she found awe-inspiring for the starving artist that was she. \n\nThey seemed to breathe with life around her as she watched the steam roll off them in the crescent casting of the moon. The golden rays of the setting sun casting long shadows through the trees and making her hum with approval as she moved to her bag. To reach for the book of scribbles and drawings that brought her own mind's eye to life. She had just moved her fingers across it when a twig snapped in the distance- the world cast into a darkness that brought sight entirely from her eyes.\n_ _\n\nIt was then that she whimpered. What was this? With trembling hands, Maribel reached for anything solid in a darkness that held no reprieve. The noises of something unknown growing louder in the distance, a sense of hunger to them that brought about a sense of unease. With a sinking feeling in her gut, she steadied her breath and attempted to move away from it all. Weaving in between the statues that she had come to know like the back of her own hand. \n\nStill, they approached, until they were behind her and a hand grasped her bag yanking it from her shoulder and bringing a high pitched scream from her lips. \"FUCK OFF! Whatever you are, fuck off!\" A surge of adrenaline propelled Maribel upwards, she climbed the statue she held as she felt hands grasp at her and moaning growing louder. Who knew how many there were that surrounded her, as she could not see her own hands that reached higher still. Her shoe another fallen victim to whatever yanked. Her ankle snapped as it held no mercy for its latest victim. Another scream, this time in agony as she curled it into herself and sat upon the makeshift horse. High above the grass below, curled in the fetal position. \n_ _\n\nWith each passing moment, Maribel's grip on reality faltered, her mind consumed by a primal fear that refused to be silenced. The eerie silence of the forest around her was punctuated by the moans below her. Sounding like the zombie films of her past. What the fuck was this? That would consume the world whole with such ease. Had a God been angered once more? To what end would this war be played. What further damage could they do to the mortals they claimed to protect?\n_ _" }, { "author": "Hercules", "message": "The undead were ceaseless with their hunger. A shoe would not quell their desire to feast upon their flesh. The abominations summoned forth by Hades were something meant to punish those who had harmed his beloved when, in truth, they did nothing but harm the innocent. Those who had assaulted Persephone's party were not the sort that didn't have a drove of automatic weapon-carrying guards. Maribel June was their typical victim—a lone person in the wrong place at the wrong time. \n\nFor a split second, she was safe. High atop her stone mount, they could not reach her, even as others attempted to trample those before them to get to her. Only the tallest amongst them was able to get within inches of grazing the fabric hanging off her delicious flesh. There was the sense that this was some sort of surreal dream. Any moment, she would squeeze her eyes and wake up safe in her cozy bed. Zombies were not real. Yet, no sudden surge of shifting back to reality came. The shadows were her company, with stray moon rays to illuminate the true horrors fiending to get to her. \n\nHow long could the stone hold up against the weight of the creatures beneath her? Would they get creative? Would she slip? How long would these shambling corpses claw for her? \n\nA new sound nearly caused her to roll right off in a startle, though this was no undead. It was the sound of something heavy hitting the earth with terminal velocity. Stray bits of dust and dirt kicked up, some striking Maribel lightly before bouncing harmlessly away. She could not see whatever it was that had made a small impact crater in the earth, but the dead took notice and were soon no longer trying to climb upon themselves to get to her. They all had a new target.\n\nAmongst the shadows, a hulking figure moved with alacrity. It was faster than any humanoid had a right to be at that size. It looked as if it swung with its arms, and the chorus of crunching bones its fists made on impact was otherworldly. Where her screams had been the high point of sound one moment, the dying moans were overshadowed now by primal anger. Pure-unfiltered rage was this creature's ally, and one of the statues in the garden was ripped from the earth with inhuman strength before it was used to swipe through the air and send bodies scattering in every direction, including smacking them against the base of where Maribel was curled in fear. \n\nThe dead did not take long to dispatch as quickly as they appeared; whoever this would-be hero was had dispatched them back to their eternal slumber. Some through blunt impact while they walked, others through crushing whatever magical nerve center that gave their bodies animation. A large group of them knocked down together were completely flattened by the shadowy man slamming the statue into a new resting place atop their bodies. The last gasps of the dead were crushed by a firm stomp of his boot, once again returning this grove to silence. \n\nShe could hear his breathing amidst the shadow. He, as one could only assume, given the shape the shadows clung to, labored with exertion. \"Are you alright?\" That was a loaded question. This was most certainly going to require therapy. If she watched this creature, she would see him step into enough moonlight to, in fact, confirm skin not slothing from his face. On the contrary, he was handsome in the same way the statues that surrounded them were. He was waiting for her to show a sign that she trusted him enough to reach up and offer her a hand. \n\nShould she take it, she would feel no tremble in her descent. Perhaps she had felt the grip of a strong man before, but this gave the sense that she could stand upon that palm and get the same result." }, { "author": "maribel june", "message": "The weight of the undead pressed against the stone, their relentless hunger driving them to new heights of desperation. Maribel clung to her perch atop the stone sculpture, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched the creatures below, their twisted forms illuminated by the faint moonlight. The groans echoing against the whipping wind and claws grasping against the air around her. \"Please. Just go away.\" She whimpered against the chaos and closed her eyes as tight as her lids would allow. How long could the stone withstand their onslaught? Would they find a way to reach her, their clawing hands inching ever closer? The thoughts sent jolts of panic through her body, making her shake and gasp for air. \n\nSuddenly, a new sound shattered the eerie silence, causing Maribel to startle. It was not the familiar groans of the undead, but something altogether different, yet equally menacing. As the earth trembled beneath the force of the impact, Maribel's pulse quickened to new heights, her eyes darting around the darkness in search of the source.\n\nThe undead, sensing a new threat, turned their attention away from Maribel, their primal instincts driving them towards the disturbance. With a mixture of fear and hope coursing through her veins, Maribel watched as the creatures below shuffled towards the unseen danger. Was this the salvation she had been praying for, or would it only bring further chaos to an already nightmarish scene? \"Honestly, truly, any help down here would be appreciated.\" Maribel spoke to the skies with no answer in response. A deafening silence to her pleas giving her all the answer she needed. \"Of course not.\" She whispered in realization. She was just one mere human, after all.\n_ _\n\nSlowly, the sounds of the beasts were squashed into nothing. Every groan being taken out by an unknown source. The Earth threatening to buckle at times under the sheer strength that grasped them. Perhaps a God *Had* Answered her pleas. The pleas of a starving artist, that took to drawing them straight from the sources of her dreams. Stories untold in history, but seen within her mind's eye and retold through the stroke of her brush and ease of her fingertips. \n\n*\"Are you alright?\"*\n\n\"Depends on your definition of alright.\" He could talk, at least this was one step closer to a sense of safety. His figure moving into the moonlight gave way to a striking scene. A scene that made her yearn to reach for her notebook and mark his beauty down upon paper. Waiting on her, hand outstretched as her gaze looked down upon it.\n\nMaribel hesitated, her breath shallow as she weighed her options. Trusting this mysterious figure seemed risky, yet there was an undeniable allure to his strength and calm demeanor amidst chaos. With a hesitant nod, she reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as they met his sturdy hand. As he pulled her up, she felt the reassuring strength in his grip, a stark contrast to the terror that had gripped her moments before. With each step out of the shadows, she felt a sense of safety enveloping her, as if his presence alone could ward off the darkness that threatened to consume them. Though the events of the night would surely haunt her, for now, she found solace in the steady presence of her enigmatic rescuer.\n\n\"So... Does my knight in shining armor have a name?\" Her voice shook slightly as her form did within the unforgiving night. Her body still coming down from the adrenaline of the night to remember. \"...And does he often rescue random damsels in distress or do you have a daytime job?\"" }, { "author": "Hercules", "message": "There was no way to know who he was in the midst of saving. Be it some unhoused soul or the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen mattered little in the grand scheme of things. Someone needed help, and he had the power to do something about it. That was to say, it didn't count at that moment. That changed the moment her heavenly features peered over the stone to lock eyes with him for the first time. Hercules had avoided such interaction for centuries. He had not been ready for the frightened, unsure, doe-eyed beauty to find it within her to trust him enough to reach down for his security. For a moment, he felt like she might flee, but the artist put on her brave face and descended, hand in hand with him. \n\n\"It's not like the movies.\" The deep-toned stranger began. \"If you are bitten, it won't turn you into one of them.\" This was said with the same sort of levity that one might have said a spider bite wouldn't turn you into Spider-Man. The two things could even possibly relate. The dead did not just rise. \"So if they touched you, you are fine. I would just need to make sure it doesn't get infected the old-fashioned way.\"\n\nHercules didn't flirt. The little injection of a smile had been without conscious thought. It was gone the second he realized it had been there, but not with the suddenness that would cause her to retreat from him possibly. He wanted her to think nothing was wrong when, in reality, he could not remember the last time he had spoken to someone *This* Attractive. It stirred things up, and he fought to suppress it before anything could spiral out of control.\n\nWhen asking the name of one with his lineage, there was a pause as if he needed to consider what to say. Her trembling fingertips were still head in his sure grip. For all their strength, he was gentle with her in a way most could never be. \"I don't suppose you would leave it at that if I said my name was Bill?\" No one named Bill could do what he had just done. There was too much divinity in both his presence and his appearance. So, after a moment, he let out a sigh for strength and spoke the name uttered through fables. \n\n\"Hercules.\" The name was synonymous with heroics and strength. He was a figure as large as the gods in some circles and perhaps even rumored to *Be* A god himself. Yet no one could say where he had been or what he was doing. These were fables passed down and told through different mediums, and yet here he stood before her. More real than the marble that had saved her from being mauled to death. \n\n\"And no, I don't make a habit of this.\" He said in a surly way. The fingers that had held her realized the contact was becoming problematic when his mind told him how much he had missed it. Once he had felt the urge to lace their fingers, he released and let both of their arms return to their side. \"Undead or not, it is dangerous to be out here alone. The most civilized of areas make for a perfect hunting ground for the cunning predator.\" This was him just being cautious and having no faith in the world. There was something jaded in those eyes. Deep-seated and too distant for her to touch. Yet, there was a glimmer of hope if one knew where to look." }, { "author": "maribel june", "message": "His words, though laced with a hint of levity, brought a small smile to her lips, a brief respite from the overwhelming situation they found themselves in. As they descended together, Maribel couldn't shake the feeling of safety and comfort that seemed to emanate from him in waves despite the example he had made of the undead with ease just then. Yet, his unexpected smile caught her off guard, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that seemed to bridge the gap between them. In that instant, she saw beyond the facade of strength and stoicism, catching a glimpse of something deeper within him and became curious to know her rescuer.\n\nThough she couldn't quite decipher the emotions swirling beneath her surface in this odd little moment of a fairytale meet gone awry, Maribel found herself drawn to him in a way she hadn't anticipated. Yet, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their surroundings, she knew that her focus must remain on survival and survival alone. \"I don't think- one of them scratched my ankle but I am sure it will be fine without further inspection. You've done more than enough, truly.\" Her words were soft, like a lost little lamb of a woman that had just been saved from the slaughter. Unrecognizable to the spewing of facts she normally did. A sense of frustration rouging her cheeks in embarrassment, at how easily she became the typical damsel in front of this statuesque figure of a man. \n_ _\n\nWith a silent resolve, Maribel pushed aside her own swirling thoughts and fears, trusting in the strength of the stranger by her side. As they reached safer ground, Maribel finally found her voice amid the chaos. \"I know.\" She finally stated, to his admission in name, a sense of mischievous guilt across her features. *The* Hercules was hard to miss. His likeness had been in so many pages of the books she studied cover to cover. \"Though admittedly you seem... Different from what I expected.\" Her gaze studied over him slowly, an analyzing sense as if she was memorizing every feature to paint upon her canvas later. A likelihood, for the fact alone, someone made of such perfection belonged on a canvas. \n\n\"I will never get used to that.\" It was meant to be a whisper to herself. An admittance out loud that the Gods and heroes of the past walking amongst the mortals so casually was an oddity. A good thing, in today's events. Though perhaps it would not have been a rescue needed if not for another divine's hands in shaking the core of the Earth in his fury and casting into darkness. \"Any idea how long this,\" Her hands cast around them in the blinding darkness, \"Is supposed to go on?\" A shiver was sent down her spine at the reality she did not feel safe to be left alone. \n_ _\n\nTemptation to cling to him and beg for him to take her with him, wherever his destination, until the undead returned to the Earth they belonged within once more. \n\n*\"Undead or not...\"*\n\nMaribel looked at him with a bit of incredulous humor glinted in her eyes. \"By that logic, no one should venture outside their walls. I have often come here to find solace in the sculptures and been just fine. Though admittedly the zombie horror film made reality was not something I prepared for, it's true.\" \n▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂" }, { "author": "Hercules", "message": "There was a vibration in the air between them. Something he could not place. He could not see it, nor could his hand wave through the air and touch it. Magnetic pull wanted to draw them closer so she could clutch to his chest like some cheesy romance novel. His impossibly strong hands could find purchase on her, and the two of them could fade into the shadow of a moment, locked forever in some tempting embrace. It was by some sense of self-control and danger that the two did not slip into such a moment. Danger had not left them yet, and the Lord of the underworld was not finished with his tantrum. \n\nThe moment she mentioned that one of them had scratched her ankle, she had not even finished saying it before the mythological figure moved to squat before her and take her gently by the leg. The being was insistent and did not ask for permission to lay hands upon her. A finger touched the back of her heel to turn her leg show, letting a stray bit of moonlight catch the now bleeding wound. A twinge of anger shot through Hercules that threatened insanity. Once again, patience stopped him from punching his way into the god's subterranean realm. \n\n\"Just because they won't turn you into them doesn't mean there is a fair bit of rot beneath their nails. Who knows what that breeds? We will see that this gets treated.\" We, he said, as if that was a promised thing he could just call upon. Like all born centuries ago, perhaps he felt entitled to the mortal's time, or maybe he had been so detached from such things that he had forgotten there were more amiable ways to socialize. She -could- say no and dismiss him, but what if the dead came back to finish the job they had started earlier?\n\n\"You expected something?\" Why did that even shock him? The tone said he thought it was not some large deal that warranted much thought. Was it humility or something else that conjured that sort of reaction? The way her eyes toured him up sent chills right back down his spine. There were urges long suppressed that nearly sent him surging forward, but control is a must for one so strong. \"Well, I hope I didn't tarnish whatever image you had of me. I hear that is common amongst mortals who meet my kind.\"\n\nThat wasn't completely true. Some mortals left their meeting with the gods utterly awe-struck and would rant and rave. His experiences were different. \"I have no clue, truthfully. The small village I was living near was overrun, and I was heading to try and get some answers as to why this is happening.\" Something about his stance said he was going to be asking questions with his fists. Not his tongue. \n\nWith a jerk of his head, he motioned for the woman to follow him. A snapping twig in the distance had caught his attention, though it was far beyond the range of her mortal hearing. \"We should be on the move. Towards someplace more defensible than a statue garden. Heights saved your life, but a door or some sort of choke point would be ideal.\" Note that he said he had not saved her. He knew all too well that he would have arrived too late to do anything if she had not gotten herself up truly. \n\n\"It's dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to..\" Never mind the fact that he had just quoted the Lord of the Rings while peering into the dark to lead the way for her. A hand reached back without looking. Was it for her hand or to usher her along?" }, { "author": "maribel june", "message": "❝ ⌜ what if-for once-I was the poem and not the poet?⎯ ✶⌝ ❞\n \nTitle. [Shadows](\nSetting. In the midst of chaos, amongst the Sculpture Grove.\nCharacters. Maribel June, a mortal oracle & Hercules, a brooding anti-hero.\nPings/Mentions. \nNotes. I got to it -eventually. Don't kill me ❤️\n \n .𖥔˚.\n▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂\n_ _\n\nYelping, she yanked her ankle from whatever wrapped around her, pulling only to have it refused in kind as she saw the man named Hercules kneeling before her. For someone that loomed over her and seemed to make even his own shadows quell in fear, he was surprisingly nimble and quick. Examining her ankle with a firm, yet gentle nature that had her planted within the unforgiving night's fields. \"You don't get out much, do you?\" Maribel's eyebrow shot up in a humored fashion as she studied the hero of the past against the moonlight. Ignoring the surge of adrenaline and whispered thoughts at the sight of him on his knees before her. \n\nGently she nudged the injury from his hands and rolled down the jeans that had been stained in- frankly she didn't care to know. Part of her yearned for him to wrap his hands around her and whisk her away, like a real life Superman, and the other wished to scold him on the blasphemy that was touching an unwed ladies' ankle, like they were of the Victorian era on a simple stroll. \"We?\" She did not say it with malice in her voice, her back straightening to look at him with curiosity and question, only with a tone of humor. His dry sense of command something she admittedly was not quite used to. Working in the ranks of arts and museums left her inexperienced when it came to brute men that traversed the woods looking to save damsels from harm's way. \n_ _\n\n\"Mortals who meet your ki- I will never grow used to this.\" Maribel hugged her artistic journal closer to her chest and motioned for him to lead the way. A silent acceptance to his proposal. Walking in silence, she listened. Listened for the symphony of crickets, or perhaps the rustling of leaves. Anything to prove to her that life hadn't entirely stopped, and yet there was nothing. Nothing- but the sound of moans far off, tortured and gurgled. The curse that had been cast upon them, unbeknownst to her as to what she had done to deserve the wrath of the man running things below. \n\n\"Questions from who? Are you going to just... Go down to the Underworld and demand Hades explain himself? Pummel him if he doesn't?\" A chuckle escaped her, a melodic laugh that was true to her humor until she looked to his face and saw an answer there she was afraid to hear. \"Don't answer that. I would rather not know.\" She whispered against herself, curling further into her as the night air became unforgiving and a chill was sent through her body. A foreboding sign to what was further to come, she was sure. It was not in the Gods to simply stop at one small notion as quickly as it had begun, and for Hades to send a wrath upon the world- Maribel did not want to know for how long this would last. For how long they would all be subjected to squinting against the nature of the night, only to have rabid undead come from the darkest corners. \n_ _\n\n*\"It's dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to..\"*\n\nAn upwards curl to her lips at this phrase, as her hand subconsciously wrapped into the warmth of his own. She had remembered reading the Lord of the Rings more times than she could count within her childhood. A comfort read she would still find solace in to this day, but hearing it from the mouth of a man that had just thrown rocks the size of himself at the undead seemed the most unrealistic of the night's events somehow. \"Alright, Bilbo, lead the way.\" \n▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂\n_ _" }, { "author": "Hercules", "message": "\"Apologies..\" It would not take her long to figure that he was a social shut-in. A self-made pariah that could have easily molded and thrived in modern society. Yet, there was something almost primal in his nature. A feral godling that could snap her like a twig did not ask for her consent to lay a hand upon her, even if it was for a virtuous reason. The implications of that were terrifying to anyone who sat and thought about it for long enough. The evil that could breed in a creature of his strength should have sent chills down one's spine. Maribel June was built differently. She was the sort to play alone in a dark sculpture garden at night. Danger sense was not her forte. \n\nSatisfied, he released his hold on her. \"I think the problem is I'm out too much. I never get in..\" Despite how far removed he was, there were alarms that went off behind the eyes. It was evident he knew something was wrong, and he was quick to stumble over his words to fix it. \"I, ah, mean..\" There was a slight pause as he attempted to fix his stumble. \"I don't socialize much. I tend to keep to myself.\" Maribel did not need to be a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist to put that together. \n\nThe fact that she questioned \"We\" Was glossed right over. It sounded like the natural conclusion to things. He'd appeared out of nowhere to save her; it was not as if he was ready to melt back into the darkness to let her fend for herself. It wasn't illogical to think there would be another roaming group of shambling corpses around the next bend. So long as she was with him, she was safe.\n\nHer question as to his plan set his jaw into a momentary tight lock. Even from her lips, his name seemed to conjure something from that well of bottomless anger the mythological man only just barely kept hidden. \"If it was that easy, I would have done it a long time ago.\" Luckily, when he spoke, his anger had dissipated. Though, this could be attributed to the fact that he had taken that moment to look back and examine her beautiful face. There was a thought to comment on just what he thought of her large eyes that still stared at him with a sense of wonderment. It was good that she had not asked; there was no real plan in place. Perhaps he was only just now realizing that. \n\nLuckily, there was no reason to dwell on this for long, for when her hand fell into his, a jolt like a lightning bolt from his father raced from the point of contact to every nerve ending within his vessel. It was intoxicating, and in response, his hand closed around hers. It was feather light for one so strong, and no matter how hard she yanked, there was nothing that could set her free from that vice. A smile graced his features. Something genuine for her picking up on his niche pop-culture knowledge before the pair of them set off side by side. \n\nThe infection could not set in so quickly, so his pace slowed if only a tad. His vision in the dark was at least passable in the sense that he could see what was on the road, but for mortal eyes, she would probably struggle. \"There is a root to your left.\" If she caught it in time, it would be easy, but there was no chance of her hitting the dirt. Not so long as he kept her grasp in his. \"How far do you live from here?\" Basic medical supplies could disinfect the wound. If she was scared, a round of antibiotics could make sure nothing found its way beyond the scratch. Going to a hospital on a night like this was bound to turn into a waiting room marathon. If he could just get her safe behind a closed door, she would be safe, or that was at least what\n\nIf she lived in the city, then she probably would not be able to afford to leave his side any time soon. His hammering fists would probably need to be put to use again. The more humans huddled together, the more the dead would flock to rip them apart. *Fucking Hades*, he thought to himself. His heart still ached for those he had lost, but he would redeem them and make sure nothing happened to his ward he led through the dark. He'd failed them, but he would be her light in the shadow to see her through." } ]

[ { "author": "kenneth.greygullhaven", "message": "Hephaestus steals way for a visit to the mortal realm and meets someone there unexpectedly." }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus the god of the forge might appear to many in the mortal realm larger than life, a deity always beyond reach, towering over mankind, looming large and powerful, and even intimidating. And while to an extent that was true, as a god, there was more to the forge master than that. Surprising many, including his fellow deities, Hephaestus found great joy in mingling with mortals. To him, they were endlessly fascinating creatures, possessing a unique strength born from their fleeting lives. With a passion and drive that burned as brightly as his own eternal fire, the god of forge and fire could not help but admire\n\nThough he never announced his escapes to the mortal realm, Hephaestus found solace in slipping away from the forge when his work was complete and the weight of his responsibilities became too heavy to bear. After centuries of shouldering the burden of it all, he longed for a respite. With each step he took towards the mortal realm, he shed layers of expectations and obligations, feeling lighter with every inch closer to the world of men and women. Away from the incessant demands and constant need to prove himself, he could simply be- no bickering with Ares, no pressure from Zeus, no snide jabs from the other gods. It was just him, Hephaestus, as he often wished he could be. The bustling streets were a welcome change from the stillness of the forge, and the smells of spices and cooking filled his senses. He revelled in the simple pleasures of walking among mortals, blending in and forgetting his divine status for a brief moment in time.\n\nIt had been too long since his last trip and his body as well as his heart and his mind longed for the refuge and peace. And so, without hesitation, the forge master had stolen away from his realm several days prior - according to the fleeting mortal concept of time - and wandered among the beings he found endlessly intriguing. Whether observing them quietly or actively interacting with them, he found himself drawn to their complexities and curiosities.\n\nAs Hephaestus wandered through the narrow, cobbled lanes of the market, he caused heads to turn but more for the sake of a new face being seen at the market than anything else. The god of fire and craftsmanship, moved along from stall to stall, the ever present limp and soft click of the leg brace he wore barely acknowledge as he went. His eyes, accustomed to the dim light of the forge and the glow of fiery embers, now gleamed with a different type of joy as he took in the sights. The farmers market was abuzz with life and colors that seemed to dance in the morning light, a stark contrast to the dim, ember-lit corridors he was accustomed to. \n\nThough Hephaestus cherished the solitude of his forge, he also relished being out among the bustling crowds here. Despite the vast expanse that separated him from mortals, the god of the forge had always felt a unique kinship with these often overlooked and disregarded beings. It was this deep connection that led him to wander beyond the markets on this particular day, passing by the lively training fields where young men honed their skills and strength. As he continued walking, the neatly organized fields gave way to a sprawling meadow, filled with a riot of wildflowers and tall grasses swaying gently in the warm breeze. It was here he finally paused and breathed in the sweet smell of flowers, hyacinth in particular.\n\n||" }, { "author": "Hyacinthus ", "message": "In the meadow, gentle zephyrs danced with the vibrant hues of at least a thousand fragrant hyacinth flowers that bloomed merrily in all directions as far as the eye could see. Amongst them, young Hyacinthus, from which the flowers took their name by decree of Apollo, wandered peacefully while he tended to them in groups of three. There, surrounded by the beauty of the fruits of early Spring, he sought refuge from the tedium of military training against the wishes of his father, too beckoned by beauty rather than war.\n\nThe earth itself mimicked the grace of his gentle footsteps as he pottered through the meadow, feeling liberated by the sweet scent of the hyacinth flowers and the absence of the clanging of metal swords. The rigid confines of Sparta's obsession with aggression weighed down on his shoulders but in the arms of nature and the gentle murmurs of flowers, he found refuge from the demands of his warrior training.\n\nIn that haven, time seemed to stretch and bend, allowing the serenity of his escape to unfold at the leisurely pace of the natural world itself. The sun above illuminated the vista of lilac and bathed the world below in hues of twinkling gold, caressing the petals of flowers in the meadow with its warm light and bringing them to life. In the midst of the splendour, however, was also where Hyacinthus first laid eyes on a figure unlike any he had ever seen before.\n\nCloaked in the guise of a mortal man, Hephaestus emerged from the overgrowth, the truth of who he was not yet known to the human prince that stood before him. His attire was typical of what farmers wore in classical antiquity and his appearance seemed to support the suggestion, though there were no livestock to tend to this far out in Persephone's lush, green paradise. Despite the god's mortal appearance, however, Hyacinthus was drawn to the almost otherworldly disposition of the man before him, for in his carefully curated disguise, there was something about him that exuded knowledge and wisdom.\n\n**\"Hello there, sir,\"** The young god said sweetly as a gentle breeze swept the scene, tossing his brown curls across his forehead as it passed through. **\"Are you lost? There aren't many people this far out for miles. It's why I like to come here,\"** Hyacinthus explained, his feet gently treading through emerald blades of grass as he offered the man a friendly smile. **\"To be alone with my thoughts. Sometimes I think the garden is trying to talk to me.\"**" }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "Hephaestus returned the young man's smile warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. \"I'm not lost, young one,\" He chuckled, \"Merely wandering and appreciating the beauty of this meadow.\" He gestured around at the lush grass, wildflowers in full bloom, and gentle breeze rustling through the trees. \"You're absolutely right, it's a peaceful place, perfect for quiet contemplation.\" He took a deep breath, savoring the scent of spring and serenity. \"An escape from the noise and confusion of the world, if only for a little while.\" His voice was filled with a sense of longing and wistfulness as he gazed out at the idyllic landscape before them.\n\nAs the god of fire and metalwork surveyed their surroundings, he was struck by the vibrant hues of the flowers blooming around him. The emerald blades of grass swayed gently in the breeze, and the majestic mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks kissed by rays of golden sunlight. It seemed that this field in particular seemed to be springing to life more than any others in the area. \"Nature has truly created a masterpiece here,\" He mused to himself. \"If only mortals would stop and appreciate its beauty for what it is.\" As an artisan himself, he couldn't help but be inspired by the intricate and elegant designs that surrounded him.\n\nHephaestus sat down on a nearby rock, gazing up at the cloudless blue sky. \"I enjoy stealing away from my work now and then, as much as I love it. My forge may be where I spend much of my time, the clang of hammer on metal rings constantly in my ears... But here, the only sounds are birdsong and the whisper of the wind. And that of welcomed conversations\" Hephaestus added with a small smile and nod as he considered the prince standing before him.\n\nHe studied the handsome youth at his side. The boy's gentle nature and thoughtfulness stirred something protective in the god's heart. Here perhaps was a mortal who shared his high ideals. \"If I may ask, what work occupies your days, since you shun the warrior's path?\" Hephaestus questioned. \"I myself am a bit of a craftsman, making tools and functional items from metal, wood, fabric, and clay,\" He replied. \"Everything I fashion comes from the earth itself in some fashion, the raw materials a gift that I think few of us ever truly appreciate.\"\n\nHephaestus looked down at the grasses at his feet and gently reached out to touch one of the Hyacinth flowers that were reaching up towards the sun. \"Simplicity has its own beauty. Like this blossom. Earlier I went to the village market. The farmers and craftsmen there find meaning in their humble work. They value community and kindness over riches and power. And something tells me, young Spartan, that you too prefer the finer things beyond war and power, am I right?\" Hephaestus asked with a kind and knowing smile. \n\n||" }, { "author": "Hyacinthus", "message": "As the sunlight dappled and danced through the foliage, intricate patterns were cast in shadow against the soft grass below. The stranger had stumbled across the young Spartan prince who had taken to reclining against an old oak tree, his gaze lost in the delicate dance of a butterfly that fluttered merrily between them. The stranger's steps were as measured as his thoughts and his voice carried a wisdom that felt curated over centuries. Not expecting company, the handsome young man tilted his head back and glanced up at the weathered man as he approached, his silhouette becoming strikingly stout as the sun blazed gloriously behind him. \n\nOtherwise unbeknown that he was in fact in the presence of a god, his eyes reflected the exact same hue of the violet blossoms dotted around their surroundings, not yet alarmed by his new companion. **\"This place is my sanctuary,\"** The young prince said. **\"It makes me forget about the chaos of the world around me. It's not that I don't understand the weight of my duties,\"** He sighed. **\"More so that it takes a toll on my soul.\"**\n\nHis heart was stirred by the depth of the stranger's words which resonated deep within him, his voice tinged with a slight hint of uncertainty. Though he tried to present a facade of conviction, the responsibilities of his station sat at odds with the more refined passions that were truly dear to him. To him, the meaning of life lied not in the pursuit of power or conquest, but in the connections forged between people and the beauty of the world around them. \n\nAs the sun dipped below the distant horizon and cast the meadow in the radiance of its warm glow, Hyacinthus felt a rush of clarity wash over him. The man spoke confidently about the bonds of friendship and the embrace of appreciation, further cementing the importance of the pursuit of knowledge and fulfilment. Hyacinthus smiled curiously as he made haste, his eyes following his every movement as the old man resumed his poetic discourse.\n\n**\"You're a craftsman?\"** He asked, suddenly piqued at the mention of the man's work as his limping gait carried him to rest upon a rock opposite him. **\"I wish I had skills like that. I've often wondered what it would be like to hone my artistry, but I'm probably not as good with my hands as I am with my mind,\"** He gave the man a sheepish grin. **\"But I suppose I am quite handy with a sword.\"** \n\nHis gaze drifted wistfully to the endless expanse of sky as the evening breeze whispered through his brown curls. The clangour of war could be heard in the distance as groups of young men just like him practised their form, the crack of metal swords piercing the solace that held both of them in its embrace. \n\n**\"I dream of a different life sometimes,\"** He said glumly as the sun painted his face in shimmering gold. **\"One where Sparta stops its aggressive territorial expansion and focuses instead on curating the kind of community you just described. It's not easy for a prince to disappear into the streets and find himself lost in the whimsy of artisans.\"** He smiled faintly, mourning a life denied to him. **\"So I come here to try and forget about the future that awaits me, and dream of a better life full of bloom instead of shields and spears.\"** \n\nFor it was in nature's beauty that young Hyacinthus truly discovered the sublime." }, { "author": "Hephaestus", "message": "As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the stone Hephaestus sat upon, he leaned in to listen intently to the young Spartan's words. His keen eyes caught the hint of longing in the prince's voice and the glimmer of desire in his gaze as he spoke of wanting more from life than what seemed to be offered to him. A smile spread across Hephaestus' rugged features, touched by the prince's interest in his intricate craft. The air was filled with the scent of burning embers and molten metal, reminding Hephaestus of his own fiery forge.\n\n\"I have been a craftsman most of my life\" He said with a nod and a soft smile. \"My focus has always been on forge work, but I am not unfamiliar with other forms of craftsmanship.\" His eyes seemed to glimmer as he spoke. \"There is a certain peace that comes with shaping a raw lump of material into something useful,\" He continued. \"Whether it be armor to protect or swords to defend, crowns to adorn or jewelry to cherish, I find solace in the process.\" He paused for a moment, thinking of the countless pieces that lined his cluttered workbench back at the forge.\n\n\"But I do understand your longing,\" He continued with a wistful gaze towards the prince. His eyes shifted to the leg that was held somewhat awkwardly out against his chosen seat, the simple metal brace gleaming in the rays of the fading sun. \"I know what it means to feel trapped by fate, as though your entire life has been carved out for you before you even had a say in it.\" The words carried a weight of experience and pain as Hephaestus spoke. He had seen the cruelties of life firsthand, long watched innocents suffer while the seemingly wicked were rewarded. His gaze turned towards Hyacinthus, conveying both empathy and resignation. \"Life is not always kind, and I have found it is rarely fair. The Fates can be cruel in their decisions.\" His voice trailed off, bearing the weight of many years' worth of observations and reflections on the workings of the world.\n\n\"Point being, I could have easily allowed my disability to hinder me from living fully, but I refused. Instead, I sought out blacksmiths in every village and asked them to teach me their craft. Despite being told that I would never amount to anything because of my...\" He waved a hand dismissively as if brushing away the word 'flaw' \"...Limitation, as my brother so often calls it, I persisted. And now, my work is highly sought after and admired. So Your Highness, I understand better than most what it's like to have a burning desire for something greater, something different, something only whispered about in your heart and soul.\" \n\nHis voice was laced with determination and pride as he shared his story of overcoming adversity. It was clear that his physical limitation had not stopped him from achieving success in a field that many deemed impossible for someone like him. A sense of inspiration filled the air as he spoke, reminding everyone that nothing is truly impossible if one has the drive and determination to pursue their dreams.\n\nThe forge master's words were laced with a familiar understanding, as if he and the Highness shared a secret bond. The corners of his aged eyes crinkled with a knowing grin, revealing years of wisdom and experience. It was almost ironic to see the god of the forge addressing a mortal in such a casual manner. \"Your Highness, you remind me of myself in many ways,\" He said, his voice deep and rumbling like the roar of a fire. \"I often find my heart and soul longing for the simpler things. That is why I am here, actually.\" He lifted a hand to his chest, his expression softening with introspection. \"Here, enjoying the peace and beauty of this place while ignoring and shirking my own responsibilities.\"\n\nHis gaze drifted towards the tranquil surroundings, where nature seemed to hum with its own peaceful rhythm. The scent of wildflowers mixed with that of hot metal from the nearby forge, creating an oddly comforting aroma. In that moment, it was easy to forget about duties and obligations, and simply bask in the present moment. \"I take it you come here often then, seeking the calm in the storm that is the world the gods have seemed to deem necessary?\" He asked a kind gleam in his eyes as he considered the young man sitting there with him.\n\n\n||" }, { "author": "Hyacinthus", "message": "A stark contrast to the harsh and militaristic world of Lacedaemon, the meadow that the young prince found himself with the stranger in was a place of serene beauty, where flowers and petals glowed like scattered jewels in a riot of colours and hues. It was breathtaking and alive with the faint collective hum of hundreds of buzzing bees and fluttering butterflies, welcoming both men into its accommodating arm and providing them with an indescribable respite that soothed the soul. \n\nThe prince took a deep breath and filled his lungs with the sweet scent of blossoms, feeling peace wash over him in an instant. The man divulged his trade as a craftsman and passionately so, coaxing a warm smile from Hyacinthus, whose curiosity and admiration had been piqued by the elder as he detailed his enjoyment of his profession. Inspired, the young prince felt the weight of his royal responsibilities melt away, leaving him to enjoy the brief reprieve from battle and war.\n\n**\"That sounds amazing,\"** The boy said with a warm smile. **\"I can't remember the last time I ever did something that I truly enjoyed. This meadow brings me a lot of comfort, but it is a shame I can't take it home with me.\"**\n\nAs Hephaestus advised, Hyacinthus listened and hung on his every word, feeling a sense of relief as the stranger divulged his struggles. From overcoming his physical disability to determining the course of his own life as formerly dictated by the forces that were, it was clear that he was committed to leading a fulfilling existence. The young prince smiled and drew strength from the stranger's experience, comparing it to his own as his eyes drifted to inspect the metal brace on his leg as it clanged against the earth beneath his foot. \n\n**\"I've dreamt of travelling far from here. Of seeing the great cities and exploring foreign lands,\"** He chortled as the sun began to set on the horizon. **\"I want to learn from other cultures and experience their art and music. To see their way of life. But my father is not very keen on the idea of his heir abandoning his duty to the kingdom, or having his only son go off gallivanting afar. The Spartan traditions have never really appealed to me, but it does feel as though I'm trapped here forever.\"** \n\nThe sun dipped lower and cast long shadows across the meadow as Hyacinthus shifted in on his seat on the rock, feeling somewhat lighter and more resolved. The man's words echoed in his mind, resonating deeply as he pondered the optics and adventure of confronting the ugly truth in order to move beyond it. However difficult, it appeared the stranger knew firsthand what it meant to truly embrace who you were, and what you wanted to make of it.\n\n**\"I come here as often as I am able to,\"** The prince said. **\"Usually to escape the bloodshed. I don't think I have what it takes to be a warrior like them, but I find so much joy in appreciating the beauty of the world around me. It feels wrong to deprive myself of it, and I suppose they do not understand.\"** \n\n||" } ]

[ { "author": ".rieka", "message": "At the heart of Persephone's Bloom lies the Fields of Rebirth, a vast expanse of vibrant meadows adorned with blossoming flowers. This sacred area represents the cyclical nature of life, growth, and renewal. Gods and visitors stroll through the fields, witnessing the beauty of perennial blooms and experiencing the rejuvenating energies associated with Persephone's realm." }, { "author": "+ pasithea. --+ ", "message": "To anyone unaware of Pasithea's nature, she would appear lost. In reality, she knew exactly where she was going, a content look of awe taking over her features as she continued out into the blooming fields before her. This wasn't her first time coming to the Fields of Rebirth, but the beauty of the area never failed to impress her. She was a little shocked by how empty it was, usually arriving at the scene of mortals and immortals alike, wandering through the grass and taking in nature's serenity. That didn't bother her though, as she was more than fine with spending time alone; she always had been.\n\n Pasithea continued through the fields, her fingertips brushing gently over the long blades of grass and the softness of flower petals until she found the spot where she wanted to settle. It was just as she was about to sit down that a melody caught her ear. Her head immediately snapped in the direction of the sound, suddenly realizing that she wasn't alone. *Hmm, who could that be?* She decided to follow the sound of the music, intrigued by its player." }, { "author": "Laci Rodriguez - Demigod", "message": "While one could never run from life and death as it was a constant in the world, Laci still believed it was important to take days off from it like any regular job. She like anyone else needed time for herself. The demigod dared not imagine what this was for her Goddess Melinoe who had been at this for... Who knows how long but one may as well say eternity. Was it her inexperience that made helping the dead and living process their passing weigh heavily on her mind and soul? Or was it her mortal blood that made her weaker? Perhaps a mixture of both.\n\nOutlets for Laci were fundamental. Be it long rides on her bike through the countryside, miles and miles of nothing but nature and consequently very few if none random ghosts. She also enjoyed her long bubble baths but when she had a ghost latched onto her it... Was a bit awkward and anything but relaxing. The other means she used to relax and bring a sense of life back to her own mind was sketching, exploring new fashion and the one she currently found herself doing surrounded by natures inspiring embrace - music. \n\nNormally she didn't play outside of her apartment but she wanted some fresh air and decided playing her ocarina out in a quiet garden would be refreshing. She was no professional when it came to music. At least when compared to certain gods and demigods. She faired well enough, perhaps she wad being too humble but art was in the eye, or ear, of the beholder after all. \n\nHer fingers danced along the frame of the ceramic wind vessel playing a tune from a videogame but one she found to be quite inspiring. Music after all was a key player in the ambiance for any show, movie or game. \n\nLittle did Laci know... She was about to attract attention but not from the wandering lost souls." } ]