| Responsibilities (Tag: Apollo) |
[06 Feb 2008|11:07pm] |
He'd woken half-crumpled on the floor, the result of having fallen asleep on his couch while still terribly, horribly drunk. In the unforgiving morning light that sheeted over his face, he realized not for the first time that his overindulgence of the night before was both detrimental and foolish. Drinking himself into stupidity - and he groaned with the headache that spiked whe he'd thought of how he'd comported himself with Oizys the night before - was beneficial to no one; not to him, not to Oizys, not to... Artemis. No one.
The Musician eventually showered, dressed himself in slacks and a starched shirt, then faced the truth of the matter. He needed to return to Olympus, no matter how much he despised the thought of it. He needed to see his father, no matter how uncertain their relationship remained. There were too many unanswered questions... And though it was almost a foregone conclusion that whatever damage the Underworlders had done to his father had been rectified by Apollo's own healing powers, Philammon still needed to see for himself.
The sun was too bright on the grand marble steps he trod to get to the temple door of The Shining One. The door was ajar, which left him in an awkward position. Knocking seemed... just as foolish as the headache he suffered. Walking in, that was something reserved for those more familiar with Apollo. But given the two...
Rubbing the back of his neck, Philammon finally stepped inside. It was quiet, but for the small, metallic sounds coming from inside the far room across the temple. "Father," the Musician called, though just the sound of his own voice was enough to make him wince. He headed toward the doorway, blinking against the patches of light that tossed themselves so artfully through the high windows.
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