god_of_hade (god_of_hade) wrote in themoderngods, @ 2012-05-13 00:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, ♥ milo rankin, ♥ piper prescott, ♦ pluto, ♦ prosperina |
WHO Pluto/milo & Proserpina/piper
WHEN 13 May 2012 | super late in the evening
WHERE Proserpina's new apartment
WHAT Pluto wants one night with his wife, just one night.
He still wasn't sure how he felt after meeting with Reed (and by association Neptune); instead he tried to focus on his wife; this strange feeling that he was going to the end, which he tried to deny. They were married in a way that went beyond mortal disagreements, had been so for hundreds of years, the idea that it could be so easily undone seemed ludicrous. Still, there was an ache in his chest that he could not logic away, no matter how he tried. He simply would have to make the most of this visit; his aching for her was only amplified upon hearing his brother had found his own wife, knowing that they were equally affectionate while Pluto dealt with the gap between he and Proser. He wished he had something to give her as he ascended the new apartment building, hardly noticing the lasciviousness of it. But it was late and there were no places open appropriate for the gifts he would want to give. As he came to her door the thought had struck him that he had not even remembered and chastised himself heavily. It was ridiculous but he re-descended and only hoped his actions would make up for the even later visit. The doorman looked at him oddly and he gave a quick word to tell him he'd simply forgotten something, making his way with quick pace down the sidewalk until he could turn an alley and then nearly broke into a run to the park. He needed the bare earth below him, it would not work otherwise. Central park was bereft of many things, the city tried to bring life back into the cement garden but it, in many ways, had been sapped of its strength. Except for one thing: the earth still retained its mineral deposits. The elements all still remained even if they were slowly draining. It would take much more to pull those things from the world around them. His minds-eye scanned the earth below, his shoes taken off and set aside as he walked barefoot as the contact made it easier to read; a number of things remained but nothing quite right to make something out of...except....there. Dropping to his knees, Pluto's hands nearly sunk into the earth and out he pulled string after string of cylindrical copper wiring, as if it were just simply buried in there like that. It was his power that he was able to pull such things and with each grasp and tug out more came until his hands--working almost in a blur--were forming a shape out of them. It would not be as elegant as something Vulcan could make, or even some of his other brethren, but unlike those others--this was his element. He controlled the deposits of the earth as well as the dead and he, like he had upon those first attempts to woo his new bride, built a gift for her. The doorman, as he came back with dirty knees and still clinging mud on his fingers, gave him a look but let him in. This time as he reached the door he knocked, the gift awaiting in his pocket. |