Who: Poseidon and Amphitrite When: Tuesday night, after this. April 6, 2011 Where: Poseidon/Amphitrite's penthouse Ratings/warnings: TBD
I
t took him at least two hours or so longer to get home than usual. He was sweating like a pig by the time he got to the door, his breath ragged as if he'd been running the whole time. That bite from Medusa seared through his veins, turning that ichor vile. It made him stumble into the house knocking over things as he tried to make his way in.
His legs felt like dead weights, as if his energy had been zapped. What may have been even more deadly to a human wouldn't kill him, but hell if he felt like his insides were being turned inside out.
Just as he'd made it through the threshold of the penthouse door he collapsed on the floor, laying there on his back for a few minutes, pushing the door closed with his foot before attempting to roll over and make his way upstairs. If Amphitrite was anywhere around he wasn't aware, everything felt blurry. He pulled his tie and jacket off as he stumbled up the stairs, the shirt underneath drenched, his hair dripping wet as if he'd dived right into a pool before coming inside.
It was the thud that got her attention. Amphitrite had been reading when she'd heard it and it made her stop and listen. Not that a burglar scared her all that much before, but even now she wasn't fully herself and her imagination did tend to run wild these days.
It wasn't until she peered through the crack between the bedroom door and the wall, carefully making sure to stay out of sight as much as possible, that she saw it wasn't a burglar at all.
Fear and worry suddenly rushed over her and she came out of her hiding place to his side. "Poseidon, what's wrong? What happened?" He looked horrible.
He kept his hand leveraged on the railing of the stairs as he made his way slowly up the steps. He was pale, probably running a fever and felt as if at any moment everything he'd eaten and then some would come spilling out of him.
When he made it to the top of the stairs and to their room he collapsed again on his back. Everything was dizzy and he hardly had the ability to tell her anything other than just crawling his way to the bathroom floor where the tile was cold and felt good pressed up against his face.
Seeing him like this was killing her. It was so similar to when he'd come to get her in Greece. She could do no more than watch as he collapsed, kneeling down next to him with the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness.
She stayed there, watching as he crawled to the bathroom, staring in disbelief. What the hell? She moved over into the bathroom, placing a hand on his forehead, "Gods, Poseidon, you're burning up." She scrambled for a rag and got it wet, and then pressed it against whatever parts of his face she could reach.
He lay there just letting the tile cool him off. He never got sick, this was all very unnatural.
The bite that Medusa had left was on his left arm, still covered by his sleeves though starting to seep through the ichor she'd manged to spill out from her venomous teeth, marking into and over the tattoos on that arm.
"I don't feel so good," he simply said out of breath before flipping over letting the tile cool his back as Amphitrite padded his face with the cloth.
His face contorted feeling his stomach toss and turn like his blood bubbling inside. Everything felt off. Weak.
The first thought was that he had been cursed and this was his punishment. She wouldn't put it past someone to put a curse on Poseidon. He had done a number of terrible things and he had it coming, even Amphitrite had to admit that.
Her eyes examined his entire body, though fully clothed it hardly did any good.
"I can tell," she said irritably. That was when she saw something strange. She stared at his left arm, leaning closer. "What is that?" Her words were short and clipped, almost like a mother discovering the reason her child was sick. Truly, Amphitrite was treating Poseidon like her child in this moment.
Poseidon's eyes were closed fast shut when she inquired about the bite. He hadn't even looked at it since the girl's teeth clamped down. Using the side of the tub as leverage he sat up, his back against it unbuttoning the soaked shirt and peeling it off his body. He was sweating profusely, his arm numb, and while the bite looked nothing more than nasty teethmarks, it presented the situation when his mind felt to dizzy to explain, as did the nail scratch that ranged from his brow down his cheek.
Taking a few long breaths he opened his eyes again, their color a dull blue.
"Medusa." He said nothing more, not even having the energy to laugh.
It was like things had suddenly gone into slow motion as she waited to see what might be under his sleeve. And just as suddenly time seemed to speed up when her eyes fell on the bite. She didn't know what to say. Only something immortal could do this much damage. Could make such a strong god so weak he could barely walk.
And then the name.
She stared at him, though whether from shock or anger or something else, she didn't even know. She went back to wiping his face, "After all these years, she finally got hers. You had it coming, you know that." There was nothing bitter in her words and somewhere inside of her she almost wanted to laugh.
He wanted to spit that awful taste out of his mouth but it coated his tongue. He didn't know how long this would last, and yet he was like a annoyed kid that wanted it to end when he said so.
He eyed Amphitrite hatefully, but his eyes were just tired with red lids. Poseidon clawed at his chest feeling his heart rate elevate up to an unnatural rate. He pushed her hand away, angry at her words and yet wanting her to leave the room for a moment. He was weak like this and it made him furious. "Water," he instructed though his words came off far more needy than he intended.
As soon as she stood, as soon as he thought she was out of the room (he could hardly sense anything) that toilet lid flew up and whatever had been twisting around inside of him came up. It didn't matter that he anticipated it, it clenched him so tight that he was sure his organs were coming up with him.
Just as it had before, without his control the world underneath them tremored. He couldn't stop it or sense it, it didn't even make him feel at ease. By the time she returned hed kicked the door shut, the toilet lid was down with his arms flopped underneath his head resting on it.
Amphitrite would do what she wanted regardless but he didn't like being so weak. In front of her it was even worse.
Even if she did believe he deserved this she hated seeing him this way. Gods never got sick and the simple name of Medusa made sense of if all. Deep down Amphitrite felt a twinge of respect for the woman who finally got revenge. That of course was better left to herself and she knew better than to go blurting such a thing.
Without saying anything she stood up and retreated from the bathroom. When she heard the tell tale sounds of sick it made her frown and almost feel sick herself. The sound was worse than the smell. And no matter how much she thought he deserved this she still felt like mothering him. Maybe then he'd realize it's okay to be not a complete ass in front of her, all the time.
She held out the glass, though now remained silent. If he needed something she could either figure it out or he'd let her know.
He focused on her blurry form through half-lidded eyes raising when he felt the least bit of energy to do so. He pushed his wet hair out of his face motioning for her to get back down on his level. He wasn't about to reach up and beg, this alone was humiliating enough.
His shaky hands grabbed the glass, fingers pale as they slid over hers to take it from her grip. He drank it fast as if it held some antidote. It didn't but at least it helped for a moment. The sweat had finally started to dry but now as with fevers he felt cold.
Now he was dependent on Amphitrite and that made him extremely pissed off. Poseidon was no child and he was stubborn. He wasn't sure he'd be able to leave that bathroom floor for the night but he'd try. He crawled for a moment until his body wouldn't let him anymore. Out of breath he just rested against the wall refusing to look at her as his skin covered in goosebumps, a tremble wracking him from the inside out.
Though reluctantly she knelt down next to him, watching quietly as he drank. The smell of the bathroom was revolting. She couldn't believe something so foul could ever come up from Poseidon. She had never once thought he could ever get sick. The whole thing made him disgusting, but she played off her frown as dislike for the smell.
She couldn't remember her children ever getting sick. They were gods, how could they? And yet the strong maternal instincts were there.
The tremors she felt made her uneasy, unsure whether they were on purpose or if he might be losing control of his own powers. She watched him closely and disgusted though she may be she was still very worried. "Perhaps a bath."
She could make the bathroom smell like a fucking garden he didn't care, his senses were all out of whack. He could see that look on her face, inwardly not caring what she felt. He didn't want her coddling, and he'd stubbornly try to do everything himself because he was not to be dependent on her, he couldn't be. Ultimately he would be as he agreed with a simple nod of his head.
As soon as she could help him stand he continued speaking in just one worded requests because it was everything he had in him to keep his energy focused on what he could make his body do. "Clothes," in which he used the time she took to do to look in the mirror. It was like looking back at a ghost. His eyes were red, skin dark, sunken and pale. He could still feel Medusa's tongue invading his mouth that alone making him heave. The poison taste was worse than anything he could throw up.
Once on his feet he shut the door again turning on the water and using an hour to let it calm the disruption. It helped long enough for him to redress, stand and use every mouthwash down to the last drop to get that taste out of his mouth. He felt emptier than he'd ever felt, and not just physically.
When he emerged back from the bathroom sweats and a tank top he had enough energy to faceplant the bed. The tremors didn't stop as he crawled up pulling the comforter over him. He still hadn't even dressed the bite. It throbbed now, as if his heartbeat could be felt underneath, the ichor burning furiously against his skin.
All the while Amphitrite stood anxiously in the hallway, pacing back and forth at the thought that this could possibly overtake Poseidon and take him where he may never return. It was irrational to think such things but it frightened her to think that her husband could be susceptible to this.
It wasn't until she'd heard the door to the bathroom open that she peered into the bedroom once more. She watched as he collapsed onto the bed and didn't so much as make a movement to help.
And it wouldn't be until she was absolutely certain he was asleep before she would take care of his arm for him. She knew even now he was too stubborn and thickheaded to allow her to help. For now she watched anxiously.
Under the cloak of sleep Amphitrite could do as she wished and he'd hardly know until he was awake. He would sleep restlessly for days, sometimes planted back in the bathroom and others cleaned up curled beside her like a child.
He himself was unsure as to what this would do, he just felt vulnerable in a way every victim under his hands had ever felt. If he hadn't been slapped with Amphitrite's abduction and rape, this was a double whammy and he wasn't comfortable with that. It may be a lesson, but it may even be a unlearned one in time. Poseidon was hardly one to change his ways, though he had been unable to rape or sleep with a woman since he'd returned from Greece with Amphitrite. Medusa before he'd known it was her was the first woman he'd taken a lustful glance at since which meant he was heading back to his old self. He was deterred once again, only this time he didn't know how long it would last--or if he'd recover more pissed off than ever.
It would be the weekend before he felt well enough to stand on his own and at least walk around. His secretary had called numerous times finally having to speak to Amphitrite to know if she needed to run things or close down the office until 'Dorian' was back.