| Discovery (tag: Aphrodite) |
[30 Dec 2007|02:15pm] |
It had been a good idea to split herself as she had, Apate reflected. If she hadn’t had the fun the fashion show in Milan was providing, there was no way she would be able to handle the horror that was Dolos’ bedroom. It was a necessary balance to the disgusting job of making that space livable. She could not even begin to express her appreciation for rubber gloves and garbage bags.
And, she vowed, she was not going to clean anything again for so long that even Lethe wouldn’t remember the last time it had happened.
Her progress was impeded as the garbage bags full of trash, refuse, unwashed clothing and questionable items grew and began to take up too much room to make movement manageable. Pausing to look around at her progress, Apate decided that she needed to remove the bags rather than keep moving them out of the way. Which brought up the question of what to do with them, but even as she wondered, she had the spark of an idea. ( An idea that she found incredibly appealing. )
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| Perspective (Alathea) |
[30 Dec 2007|03:10pm] |
Taipei 101 was the tallest building in the world, for the moment. Something about that attracted him to it, though he couldn't have said why. Prometheus didn't spend much time in Asia. They weren't truly his people, in the same way that the Sumerians which Enki had created weren't his people. Fascinating that for all intents and purposes they'd created the same thing. He'd always wanted to ask Enki about that, always wanted to ask him how they'd managed that feat. It had been roughly the same time frame, so far as he could tell. Standing with his face pressed against the railing, knees touching concrete, Prometheus was looking out over Taipei. Impressive sight. He hadn't come here to think about the origins of so many races of men, just as he hadn't truly come here to look at Taipei. He'd come here because the winds were strong, and the night was... dark. He'd come here because it was as far from Olympus as one could get, as far from what was coming as Prometheus could get. There were easier ways to escape what was his, but now that she'd been in the forge it didn't feel like home.
It seemed that he never had a home where his heart was.
There weren't any Greek deities that would come looking for Prometheus now, here in Taiwan. Especially not on the observation deck of Taipei 101, outdoors at night. Beautiful view. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to forget the names that he wouldn't remember anymore, the same way he'd forgotten Asie the day before Kratos and Bia had come for him. The same way he'd forgotten about Epimetheus. About everything that had happened before Styx's river consumed him. Washed clean of everything that he'd done, everything that he was, and only those few scraps remained. It was high time to get rid of those, too, wasn't it? He hadn't really been washed clean. And never would be, assuming such a thing was even possible after taking Aphrodite into your bed. Twice. The filth seemed to roll off of him in waves, something he couldn't explain but felt nonetheless. She was as clean as any goddess could be, he supposed, but then why would he feel so filthy after the deed was done?
Because she was exactly what he'd called her.
( A whore. )
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| Family Ties (Styx) |
[30 Dec 2007|06:34pm] |
The shower had been hot enough to scald the flesh off of a mortal. He'd wanted to get all the blood off, as well as the smell of Tyche. Her wounds would take a bit to heal, no doubt. Her nails had gone deep into his skin as she raked. At the time it had felt like the caresses of a gentle lover, sending shivers along his spine and goosebumps over the whole of his body.
Now though, after it all, they stung and did nothing but remind him what he'd done to her.
Freshly dressed, he sat in his temple - his home - in the underworld. Thought about going out to his cars and seeing if there was anything he could fix. Of course, there wouldn't be. He kept them all in perfect condition. He needed a junker to work on. Get a new project.
Something to distract him.
Keep his hands busy.
He also felt like he needed somebody to talk to. Somebody who didn't have allegiances to both the Underworld and Olympus. He'd gotten half of what he needed from Prometheus. That was the part that encouraged him to stay the fuck out of all of it. He needed to hear from family next.
What he really wanted, he supposed, was to talk to his father. He had no idea where to find Erebos, though it had become clear to him upon returning home that he was, indeed, back in the world. In more ways than one. He supposed he could call him, but didn't feel like it would be fair to Darkness to do something like that. Not this soon.
Deimos poured himself a highball of Gentleman's Jack and sat on his couch, thinking and trying very hard to not think all at the same time.
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