InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "But its by invitation only."

Ἥβη (hebedia) wrote in peripeteia_rpg,
@ 2009-06-27 14:40:00

Entry tags:

apollo, hebe

Emberlynn/Hebe and Victor/Apollo
Who: Emberlynn/Hebe and Victor/Apollo
When:Evening on Tuesday
Where: A coffee shop near the Acropolis
What: Drinking coffee, reading and a chance meeting
Rating: PG-13, just a guess right now ^.~
Status: Incomplete

Emberlynn was incognito, or at least what all of Hollywood had been lead to believe was such, as if over sized sunglasses and a large hat had ever fooled anybody. But it was mostly the fact that she was in Athens that had Emberlynn out of the limelight, because after all she was supposed to be at her Beverly Hills home recovering. Recovering from what she was not even sure, but she was sure it had a long name and meant she could not go outside.

Emberlynn had mixed feelings about the whole thing, on one hand it gave her a chance to breath in a way she had not been able to since the cameras found her, on the other Emberlynn missed her friends, she missed the party’s, she missed working. She wondered how long she would be here in exile.

But after all it could be worse, this was a beautiful city Emberlynn mussed as she sipped her coffee and watched the sun set. Perhaps she would look for a movie that has to deal with Greece, shooting on location here would be amazing. Looking down to see her coffee was almost empty her eyes caught the edge of that damn journal in her bag. She had not even had the nerve to write in it yet, what if it was a prank and what ever she wrote ended up on PUNK*D or something? She could not deal with that right now, her manager might just kill her (But then again if that happened at least people would remember her). But perhaps the real reason was because it scared her more if it was real, other people with dreams like hers? Feeling wrong in their own skin, like they are greater then anybody will ever know? That was just to much to think about. So she returned to her coffee and her book, the newest J. Gatsby. God above she loved this mans books! She bit her lip and smirked as she read.

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_apollo
2009-06-27 06:35 pm UTC (link)

By most measures, the man who entered the coffee shop was nondescript: a youngish blond man in jeans, a windbreaker over a T-shirt and a New York Yankees baseball cap. He ordered his drink and took a seat in one of the plush chairs, propping his feet up on the table in front of him, and taking out a plain Moleskine notebook and a blue roller-ball pen as he sipped his coffee. He also took out his journal, that damned black leather book that had been driving him crazy, and opened it, placing his Moleskine inside.

He had a restaurant to review this evening -- he was getting a behind-the-scenes look at a nice place down the block as part of one of his pieces for the Times, but that would be later. He would be Victor then, the virtuoso turned published author and journalist, but right now, he was J. Gatsby, publishing things Victor would not dare for his literary reputation.

He glanced up with another sip of his coffee, pausing at the end of a line. He really did need a nice scotch, he thought, with another sip. But he could wait until later. At least, that's what he tried to tell himself.

Then, he felt it. There was this urge, growing with each passing moment. It was like a pull, a curious affinity, and he turned to his notebook and started to write again, trying to resist it. His eyes wanted to glance up, but he held firm.

It was like that urge to write in that damned journal! Where was it coming from? He shook his head. He was going crazy. That had to be it. This writing under two names, trying to maintain two separate identities, it was getting to him.

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hebedia
2009-06-27 06:53 pm UTC (link)

Damn. Emberlynn cursed silently noting her empty coffee cup, she frowned into the mug. She set the cup down and finished off her page before standing to go get a refill. The starlet’s hair fell in gentle curls all down her shoulders to her mid back, and aside from the sun hat and sunglasses she looked perhaps like any girl her age might look while traveling through a new country in a simple pale pink baby doll style summer dress and shirt heeled sandals.

She had not made it more then a few steps when she stopped, a warm feeling washing her over. It was as if she was stranding in the presence of the sun, or hot set lights. A feeling she had always loved, even though every actor only complained about them. Somehow the light made her feel loved, not forgotten, not pushed aside. Emberlynn shook her head. Weird, she had to stop doing things like that. People where going to start questing her sanity, and she did not need that as well!

Her head still felt fuzzy with thoughts, her skin still feeling as if she was outside under the sun. Emberlynn was not fully paying attention as she made her way across the room to get more coffee, her depth perception was off. At lest that is what she would blame later. She walked almost directly into the blond mans chair.

“Oh!” She almost squeaked looking down and noticing he had been writing, and her running into him and messed up his perfect page “ I’m so sorry! I don’t know what….. my head was else where.” She tried to explane.

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_apollo
2009-06-27 09:45 pm UTC (link)

Victor shook his head. Initial annoyance was quickly abated the instant he heard her voice. Where had he heard that voice before.

He could hear her voice, knew she was already there even before he entered the vast throne room, with its immense pillars of marble. Her voice was melodic, danced through the air, was pleasing to his ears. He would say something to her about it when she leaned over to pour the ambrosia into...

"Aw, forget about it," he said, in slightly New Jersey English that years in University and writing and trips abroad could not shake. He shook the image from his head, however. Weird. Then, he got a good look at her.

"It's totally ok." He offered her a smile, brilliant and beaming and sunny.

And she had such a nice smile. He loved to whisper to her while she was pouring, relished seeing her full lips curve upward when he would say things that were most inappropriate for their sacred meetings...

He closed the notebook, and the journal over it. "No harm done. Are you alright?" he asked, genuinely.

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hebedia
2009-06-27 09:56 pm UTC (link)

His smile was brilliant, and it sliced the words from her tongue.

She could feel his gaze on her and she moved around the twelve chairs, privy only to the meeting because of her service, most ignored her. He never did. And he always had something to whisper to her when she poured into his glass, and he always made her smile.

Emberlynn found her words again, somehow “Oh, yes! I am fine.” She said removing her sunglasses that had almost fallen off of her face. She could see him clearly now and though it was almost night she wanted to put them back on, he glowed. “I’m so sorry. Again.”

if her brother only knew… all hell would break loose

Then her eyes fell what was in his hand, that notebook. It was the same as hers, only with different letters. Even his called to her. She shook her head “I’m sorry, this might sound weird….. but what is that book you have there?” she asked, it was everything not to trip over her words.

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_apollo
2009-06-28 12:02 am UTC (link)

And he knew that if her brother knew, all hell would break loose, and yet, he also knew that that wasn't why he did it. She really deserved to be appreciated more...

That voice again! Where had he heard it before? "Don't be, please," he insisted. When she took off her sunglasses, more images danced before his eyes.

There she was, again, and again, and again. Pouring. Dressed finely as one of beauty's bridal attendants. Preparing her mother's chariot. And then, she was gone. No more, replaced. His brow had been set slightly darker, eyes just barely narrower, fists clenched just a bit. No one would have noticed, unless they had been looking very closely, and knew him very well. But his displeasure was immense.

He ran a hand through his hair, his nervous habit. "It was in my apartment," he said, trying to explain it. "It's-- just a journal." But he knew that wasn't true, not entirely. "Since you mention it -- it's kind of a weird thing, actually. The journal, that is. Not the question." Damn it. She was making him trip on his words.

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hebedia
2009-06-28 12:40 am UTC (link)

Emberlynn's eyes danced on the journal. "I have one just like it," she commented slowly "It was just in my hotel room..." she completed her eyes finding his.

Replaced, as easily as if she was never even there. Forgotten, set aside. Given to that meat head of a hero as if she was some sort of prize. Anger and resentment burned through her young soul. He was the only one who seemed to remember her. The only one who seemed to care.

His eyes where soft and deep, Much deeper then he let on, that was his game after all. To act the fool. She was not fooled. and she found herself wanted to reach out and touch his face, to make sure he was really there, she suppressed the urge. "It's a bit different on the cover... but its the same... I can feel it." she swallowed hard, she was sure she sounded like a fool, she was always useless without a script.

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_apollo
2009-06-29 03:47 am UTC (link)

Victor's eyes opened wide for a fraction of a moment. "I-- know what you mean," he said.

Alright, he knew who she was. He would have had to have been living under a rock not to, but she had one? And why was he feeling this way around her? Why was she making him see things? Or rather, why was he seeing things around her? About her? With her?

No one could ever know just how much of a game it was. He had convinced himself he could keep his secrets, could keep all the things he felt buried inside. True, deep feelings only ever led to hurt -- his brush with vile love unrequited had taught him nothing if not that.

No, it had to just be something he'd seen on the television before falling asleep one night -- that was it. Really. But he knew that wasn't quite right.

His mind raced. "Does it look the same inside?" he asked, unable to help himself. He offered her the journal, his scribblings and Moleskine notebook with his creative little pseudonym on its first page forgotten inside. His thoughts were instead on just how to brush his hands against hers if she went to take it -- he, too, of course, had the very distinct urge to try to make sure that she was real, not just another dream gone too soon.

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hebedia
2009-06-29 04:00 am UTC (link)

All the partying had to be doing a number on her psyche, that is what it had to be. Why else would visions of this man she had never met before be dancing around in her head. She had to control her hand to keep it from shaking as she took the book from him. When his hand touched hers as she took the book it was all she could do not to gasp, it felt like electricity short from his body to hers, visions poured into her mind almost overlapping she couldn’t keep them straight.

Smiling, pouring, dancing and laughing, poetry and song and when she finally had the courage to ask him to dance with her among the nymphs and muses. Secrets and hot checks, the feel of his hands on her skin.

Emberlynn took a deep breath sinking into the chair next to him, not sure in her legs could hold her much longer. It took all she could to clear her mind as her eyes turned to the journal in her hands, she didn’t need to look at it, she knew it was the same. But she opened it anyway. “Y-yes… it’s the same…” her voice faltred however and her eyes fell on something else, she looked up at him in shock “Wait… are you seriously J. Gatsby?”

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_apollo
2009-06-29 08:56 pm UTC (link)

He had been all too happy to dance with her, had felt more alive as they danced than he had felt in a long time, since before what he longed to forget. And with her, it seemed almost forgotten, a distant, faded memory as he became lost in a vision of her dark waves of hair, her youthful beauty a picture of perfection.

He had been so absorbed in taking in each detail of her, so consumed by the visions she was causing, the feelings he was having, that he had completely forgotten about his notebook and notes.

"That... would be the name I go by when I write certain selections of material," he said, running a hand through his hair again. "My last name is actually Fitzgerald, so I thought it was a clever literary allusion." He'd always been freakishly into creative things, music and writing and poetry, literature in general, took such things in like a sponge.

"Besides, I can't imagine the look on my mother's face if she knew," he added, with a chuckle. And yet, another thought pressed him, made him feel giddy with glee. She knew who he was... Well, sort of.

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hebedia
2009-06-29 11:09 pm UTC (link)

“I’ve read all of your books.” Emberlynn admitted quickly with little reserve, a blush spread across her face as she realized how much like a fan-girl she sounded. She nodded at his explanation, but really it had been a long time and a few to many drinks since Sophomore English. “You are amazing.” She allowed despite her better judgment.

Perhaps that’s why she felt like she knew him, his books had always spoken to her. She had always felt connected to them like she was a part of them. Maybe that’s why she felt this way around him, as if her knew things about herself that she didn’t even know.

She broke his gaze, his clear blue eyes to intense. “Sorry to be all fan-girly, I don’t get star-struck very often.” She allowed a bit more like her regular self and not the simpering fan she felt like right now. She looked back up at him, her dark eyes locking on his wanting nothing more then to press her lips onto his. Somehow she convinced herself to wait.

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_apollo
2009-07-01 03:38 am UTC (link)

Victor allowed a small chuckle, good natured, smiling broadly at her. The Emberlynn was starstruck? With him? Something inside of him felt warm, soaring, especially stricken with her, with her words, with her very presence and proximity.

"You're starstruck?" he asked. "I happen to think that you are amazing," he said, his blue eyes searching her dark ones. "I'm a fan." And he really, really wanted to kiss her at the moment.

He thought about it, as he sat on his throne with the rest of the Olympians, thought of it as she approached to pour the ambrosia. How easy it would be, to just whisper, to lean forward slightly, and reach with his hand, to tilt her chin just a bit, and press his lips to hers, to kiss her there in front of everyone. But he didn't...

What was she causing in him? What were these things he was feeling? Why did he feel this connection to her, like he had known her long before this life, like they were tied together by something bigger than everything there, in that coffee shop, at that moment?

It had to be how gorgeous she was, he reasoned. After all, she was even more striking in real life, her youthful beauty emphasized, magnified a thousand-times-fold.

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hebedia
2009-07-01 06:15 am UTC (link)

For a moment Emberlynn was confused by his words, why would he be star stuck by her? Flashes of the golden statuses on her mantle came rushing back to her. Oh yeah.

“Well,” She defended “I am allowed to be star struck as well. Trust me, it was not all stone cold fox when I met Tom Hanks.” She mused “I’m a fan of yours as well, I seriously carry a copy of ‘The Fountain of Youth’ on me constantly.” She blushed “I was actually just reading it.”

She could listen to his stories forever, tales of the other gods and heroes. Weaving elaborate tales with the help from the muses playing the parts, a part of her wished he would tell a story just for her and not for the crowd. A story she could keep just for herself and never have to share

Emberlynn wanted to touch him, to reach out and feel that electricity course through her body from the contact. He handed him his journal back hoping for contact.

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_apollo
2009-07-01 11:33 pm UTC (link)

"Oh. Really?" he asked. It made him feel something strange, a curious mix of pride, contentment, and fulfillment, that she might like his work. Victor had accomplished a bit, by way of his literary career, but he'd never felt the way that he did at that particular moment. What was it about her?

It was the fact that she was a big Hollywood name, he reasoned. Yes, that had to be it. It was just that.

But then, she did have one of those journals, too... No, that was ridiculous. He dismissed the idea.

He would tell her... They had just finished, just adjourned from another meeting where Zeus' eye candy pretty boy was prancing around, pouring the Ambrosia. With a slight sneer at the thought, he looked around, searching for her. His very expression changed at the sight of her, youthful beauty bringing a smile to his features. He would tell her then, a story just for her...

He reached for the journal, his hand brushing against hers as he took it. Then, he reached for her hand, taking it in his, ghosting his lips over it.

It had been too long since he had seen her. He had missed her terribly -- it was not the same without her there. Cupbearer was her place, not for their father to appoint haphazardly. Why was he getting all worked up about this? He dismissed the thought. He kissed her hand, trailing kisses up, up toward her shoulders, then up from there to her neck, then toward her ear. He whispered into it, starting a sweet story just for her...

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hebedia
2009-07-02 02:09 am UTC (link)

She was angry, no that was an understatement, she was livid. Every molecule in her body radiated anger as she watched the court convene, and that boy. That boy that her father traded her for, just thrown her aside and married her off to that.... that plebeian! like she was chattel to be given away. And now that boy served her ambrosia, HER gift to the gods! and it was taken from her

His hands where soft, his lips where softer and it sent chill from the point of contact straight into. and for a moment she could have sworn her hear stopped. "I know you. I don't know how but I know I know you."

It pained her heart to watch everything go on with no need for her, as if she never mattered. but as the court left, she could feel him. Like the sun was showing at night and it warmed her skin, and her heart. She melted into his hold, into his kisses. but nothing could prepare ehr for his words, a story, just for her.

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_apollo
2009-07-02 10:11 pm UTC (link)

And his heart nearly stopped at the words.

There she was! It was her! He knew her! His dreams...

He dismissed the thought. No, it was silly, really. Where might he know her from? Surely, he would have remembered meeting her -- no matter how inebriated he had been, if he had been under any kind of influence.

And yet, in his heart of hearts, in the deepest recesses of his mind, the most intimate part of his soul, he knew. He knew she was right. And perhaps that startled him more than anything.

"I know," he said, softly, though his look showed traces of his inner confusion. "I only wish I knew how," he said.

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