phobos_ (phobos_) wrote in peripeteia_myth, @ 2009-06-19 18:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | nike, phobos |
Phobos and Nike Meet
Who: Nike and Phobos
What: Phobos returns to Olympus and sees a new face
Where: Mt. Olympus
When: Shortly after Nike comes to Olympus (before there was an age of Heroes)
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
Plagues always held a special place in Phobos's heart. There was a certain sharpness in people's panic and fear with a plague because it was so sneaky. A battle you could, in theory, move out of its way. You could run, hide, or fight and still come away from a battle unscathed. Battlefields were where he best plied his trade in fear and panic, but plagues were where he perfected his art. You couldn't fight or out run what you couldn't see. Oh you might be able to move away in time and the disease might skip over you but there was always that all consuming fear that, watching your family and neighbors and friends die, you may be next and it was that that Phobos refined his art in. Even the Spartans, so brave and fierce and the bane of his existence because they didn't run from a fight panicked and turned on each other during a plague.
Hmm... perhaps he should nudge the plague in Messene over that way....
Chuckling to himself, Phobos ascended to Olympus to let his work set in for a little while before he returned to watch the fruits of his delicate work. Nodding to familiar faces, he walked into the huge palace of his grandfather, plucking fruit where he went, scooping up a flagon of ambrosia that appeared next to him. Ambrosia was the one thing he missed most being amongst the mortals. They had something they called ambrosia or they bandied the word about to describe a succulent grape or pear but nothing could compare to the real ambrosia, the nectar of the Gods.
Sitting negligently on a stack of pillows, he lounged, letting the peace of Olympus seep into his bones. This too he missed. For all the backstabbing, avenging and revenging the Gods did, his grandfather's house at least was the lone place of peace. At least it was for him. It might be a turbulent battleground for others but that was where he felt most at peace so it would stand to reason he would like it here too.
As his eye drifted over familiar faces he took note of an unfamiliar one. A goddess with the wings of Cupid but the shape and air of Athena sat across the way looking a bit out of place. Phobos couldn't remember ever seeing the girl before. Frowning, he stared at her, wondering who she was and searching his memory for any newcomers his brother or parents may have mentioned in passing.
Nike looked up, feeling a wave of fear pass over her and meeting the eyes of a god she'd never seen before. She frowned slightly in response, although she didn't know if it was his forbidding expression or something else that chilled her to the bone. Handsome, yes. All the gods were, save poor Hephaestus, but there was a cruelty in this god that surpassed the others. Her eyes tracked him as he moved through the throne room, and then watched him settle on a heap of pillows. She tore her eyes from him, but that didn't help the feeling of her hair raising on her neck as he continued to look at her.
Pointedly ignoring him wasn't working. Fine, then, she'd try confrontation. She stood, careful of her wings, holding them tensely behind her, and made her way to where he sat. It wasn't all that far. "Is there a reason you find your eyes drilling holes in my back?" she asked tartly, her hands on her hips in a confrontational air.
"I've never seen you before," Phobos replied with equal bluntness. "I know all the gods of Olympus and all the gods who care to reside on Earth. I know all the demi-gods and the names of all the centaurs, satyrs, nymphs and dryads. But you... are new. I surely would have remembered the wings of Cupid on the body of Athena. I am wondering who you are and what you're doing here and that is why I stare. So. Who are you and what're you doing here in my grandfather's house?"
Her eyes turned unfriendly. "Then your knowledge is as lacking as your manners. For I do not have Cupid's wings on Athena's body. I have my wings on my body!" she exclaimed, stamping her foot a bit petulantly. "And it stands to reason that if you don't know me, then I am equally in the dark about you. The polite thing to do would be to come and introduce yourself! Not stare at me like you are some freak of nature without eyelids to blink!" Her cheeks were turning quite pink as her anger rose, her stomach knotting in reaction to something about him. But she would not back down! "And as for what I'm doing here, I was brought here by my mother to drive your grandfather's chariot. Assuming when you say your grandfather's house, you are referring to His Majesty!"
Phobos snorted slightly at Zeus being called 'His Majesty.' Riling this one up was fun though. Of course riling anyone up was fun. Standing to his intimidating 6'7" height, he bowed sarcastically. "Phobos, son of Aphrodite and Ares, twin of Deimos, destroyer of men's spirits at your service. Now while I'm sure it's common knowledge around here who you are, but I have not been to Olympus for quite some time. The news below is quite different than the news up here. Who is your mother?" He didn't bother asking why she was driving Zeus' chariot. Zeus's motives were his own.
She drew herself up to her full (not at all inspiring) height and matched him glare for glare. "My mother is the Styx. She has been a great supporter of Zeus since he took the throne. Indeed, she was the first to aid him, and he has shown her great honor. My siblings and I are here now to repay that honor with our own service. I am Nike, bringer of Victory. I do not know where my siblings have disappeared to, so I cannot introduce them." And indeed, that was a large part of her current frustration. She was proud of her mother, and of her mother's standing with the King of the Heavens, the honor he'd shown her in making her name the gods' binding oath. But abandoning them here, and then being further abandoned by her siblings was making the youth feel out of control and out of her element.
"Nike," Phobos repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue. The bringer of victory? So... this means that there will be winners and not just complete obliteration? How... disappointing. "I suppose I'll be seeing you on the battlefield now." His voice was grudging. Deimos was NOT going to like this anymore than he did. "How does that work? Athena points to the side that has pleased her and you bring them her will that they win? What fun is there in that?" He threw up his hands in exasperation. "War is about death, destruction, and chaos! When another side wins it should be at horrible losses and should be worse than the actual battle. I mean, how fun can a glorious victory be?"
"Glorious victories create HEROES! They give people hope! Something to fight for! Examples to follow! They inspire ballads for mistrals to sing for generations to come! What do you mean how can it be fun? Where is the fun in barely surviving to crawl home in the mud? Why would they even continue to fight, if that was all that they were ever offered as a reward? And... you assume that the victory is only in war. I bring victory to all battlefields, not just martial ones," she snapped, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Honestly, did he only delight in suffering? There was so much joy to bring in victory, too!
"But the suffering! The fear! The panic and mindless rage! A battlefield should be filled with guts, gore, body parts, and the smashed hopes and dreams of both sides! Glory? Bah! War is a violent, bloody, awesome event! There is no such thing as a good war or a good fight. People die or they run away in fear as it should be. What good are heroes? And hope? That was the cruelest of Pandora's box and rightly so should it remain in her box," he shot back, leaning over to get into her face.
She was not about to let some overgrown, over-muscled arse bully her!
Flaring her wings to their full ten-foot wingspan she poked him in the chest as she growled up into his face. "If war is so bad, then why do you perpetuate the travesty? Why live for and glory in it? Don't you dare try and make it sound like what you bring is noble and what I bring is a lie! Without me, humanity would refuse to go to battle since there would be no point!"
"Money, power, riches, domination, those are reasons enough. I am the god of fear and panic, little goddess. I glory in what you call a perpetuation of a travesty. I feed off it, it's what I do. Without me there would be no battles, no victory to be had. Everyone would lay abed and till their fields with no need to do anything let alone push themselves for the glory of any victory save a well cooked meal."
"And that would be victory enough for me," she said in a soft, though firm, voice. "However, I doubt we shall ever manage to agree. Therefore, I propose we agree to our differences. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to find my sister." And without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and swept away, her wings fluttering slightly and making a soft breeze in passing. Although she didn't hurry. That would not only be undignified, it would look like she was retreating. And she wasn't. This round was a draw, to her at least. But she was not conceding the war. Not at all.