| Goode Olde Times [ open to Deimos ] |
[12 Apr 2008|12:09am] |
People stirred in their seats, shifting from side to side as if remaining still would mean coming out their hiding places on the benches that circled the dirt field. Harsh light in the arena made the lines of Ares' helmet seem alive, as if the metalwork were truly part of the skin it protected. The faceguard of his black helm, which slid so easily to cover his face, was curved upward in a sinister smile. His armor looked used and only had a dull gleam, as if the light did not want to linger on it for very long. Just by appearance, he was declared the villain. Ares adjusted his lance and leaned forward, so he could stare down the field at the knight carrying green colors. There was a young man adjusting the straps on his saddle, whispering some useless piece of advice. Whatever boy lingered by Ares' horse didn't talk. It'd been sometime since he tried this, but he was never truly out of practice. There was no weapon that Ares did not know how to wield. More importantly, there was no weapon that Ares could not wield better than anyone else who picked it up.
( . . . )
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| All At Once [Morrigan] |
[12 Apr 2008|09:42pm] |
Aphrodite returned home not hours after Prometheus had left her alone. She needed to be home. Not because Ares had ordered her home. There was no reason to listen to him anymore. She'd told Harmonia what he said. Sent a message to her daughter and closed the doors of her temple. There were things she needed to do. keeping away from the rooms that reminded her of him. Family room, her children's bedrooms.. Anything. Even her own bedroom. She went into the second hall, the one she stayed in mostly. He never came here. Too pink or two cheerful. It seemed dull now. Her attendants had tried to do something for her but she'd waved them off and closed the doors herself.
She laid down on the chaise off to the side of the room, over looking her vast gardens. There were things she had to do. First of all there were people who's love needed returning. Moros, Styx. She shouldn't have tampered, no matter how angry. Even if Moros killed her children. It was time. Maybe he'd feel something besides anger then. It didn't take long. It was gone from her and back to them. They could do with it as they wished.
There were so many others, so many other things and she didn't know if she could deal with it right then. She laid her head back with a sigh and ignored the rest of the world. Hours passed. The sun was shining and she couldn't even muster a smile. He meant so much. So much even with the cold shoulder. Even with him not being as loving as he could be. She missed him even when he was angry. She missed everything about. She rolled over and put her hands over her face.
What else could possibly go wrong?
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| Home (Alathea) |
[12 Apr 2008|10:04pm] |
Home was perfectly cured planks of wood stretched out to form a small deck. Each step leading up to that deck creaked like comfort, like security, a welcome sound as it invaded his ears. Prometheus wondered idly how long it would be until he had to rebuild the damn thing again. By his last count it had been destroyed five times. Not counting Dolos' remodeling. When he stepped onto the deck Prometheus turned. Looked toward the shoeing yard, and the wide double doors that were currently closed. Closed, and chained. On the deck was a door, which led into a stairwell that took the visitor up to the second floor. Everything on the second floor of the building was residential. A pair of bathrooms. Five bedrooms. A study that was still empty - Prometheus had virtuallly memorized everything he ever bothered to read. What was the point of having a study, in that case? And another room he hadn't decided what to do with, yet. Prometheus didn't feel like seeing if Dolos had taken the key, left the collar. Not yet, anyway. Not for the first time he thought about going to see Eos. She was undoubtedly home, wasn't she? Doing something. Only the Fates knew what. For some reason he couldn't do it. A reason he was going to have to parse out when he... oh.
( That was why. )
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| Sea Of Mist (Iris) |
[12 Apr 2008|10:08pm] |
When you left Japan, there was a certain poignant... no, no there wasn't. Japan could keep its strange goddesses and its odd ways. Its dead hookers and its impertinent sisters. So, Set and Apollo were planning on coming after him, were they? That meant only one thing - the land of his power, the land of his ancestors. Wales had some of the most beautiful hills on all the Earth. Mist rolled over them gently. A silver caress of water and air. Atop one of those hills he stood and looked out. Searched for something. Anything. Egyptian king and Greek archer. Either one was nothing for a man of his stature, wasn't that right? But together. Together they were more than a problem. Together despite Set's instability and Apollo's apparent apathy they were a conundrum that he couldn't solve or answer. The thought had occurred to him to seek out Susa-no-O, but that one was probably knee-deep in his own troubles.
( Gwydyon was not a gambler. )
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