|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Feb 2, 2021 18:32:38 GMT -5
After being knocked unconscious, for a little Laurie was aware of only darkness.
But without warning, a flickering flame appeared before him, throwing the boy into light. He blinked rapidly, lifting a hand to shield his stinging eyes from the sudden light.
Once everything came into focus and the light did not hurt his eyes so much, the scene began to reveal himself to him. He was still in pitch black. No walls, no floor as such, though Laurie did seem to somehow be sitting, and he could feel pressure against his back as if he were sitting against a wall. No room, no nothing. But a figure crouched in front of him, holding a torch.
It was a man who looked young, with olive skin and long wavy dark hair. He looked young but his presence did not feel young. The eyes which were fixed on Laurie were a deep, rich purple colour. He imagined they’d look almost brown or black without the light. Those eyes had a strange feeling about them beyond just their unnatural colour. Strangest of all, a pair of goat-like horns protruded from the man’s head, ivy wound round them and through his hair even.
Laurie recognised the face quickly, though the last time he’d seen it there had been no horns, ivy, or purple eyes. The last time he’d seen that face he’d been in a drunken fog. Then again, when was he not?
”Dionysus?” Laurie asked, voice hushed as if in awe or as if he feared being overheard
”Who else would it be?” the god answered with a smile, the kind of smile that always seemed to have some mischief in it, as he moved from crouching to a sitting position ”what, surprised to see me?”
As Dionysus spoke then, a chalice appeared in his free hand. It seemed, Laurie noted in amazement, to be made out of amethyst. He was sure he remembered Chiara or Jason telling him something about this from one of their books. Something about Dionysus creating the gemstone in some myth where he chased after a girl (one of the gods was always doing that, it would seem), and the Greeks had believed it protected them from drunkenness. Made drinking vessels out of it. Like the very one Dionysus held, only with fewer beautiful carved designs.
He took a sip of what was apparently wine - or maybe ambrosia or nectar, whatever the gods drank - while Laurie responded.
”A little!” Laurie exclaimed exasperatedly, Dionysus not even flickering ”I’ve had a lot of experiences of blacking out and in none of them have I dreamt.”
Granted, alcohol had been involved in all the other times Laurie had unintentionally lost consciousness, but he stood by his point.
”Huh,” Dionysus hummed, frowning at the chalice ”that’s a little sad”
But then he brought the vessel to his lips again to take another sip, smiling knowingly over the rim as he did so.
”Though of course,” the god pointed out “who told you that this was a dream?”
Laurie didn’t have a an answer for that, his mouth snapping shut for lack of response. Dionysus was a god, after all, he could give visions or do anything he wanted to, really. More than that, he was the god of madness. He could control Laurie’s mind however he wished.
The French boy paused for a while, then, before he looked back to his guide. The fear of what had just happened had washed over him all over again. Ripley’s voice, his foot on Laurie’s face.
”What’s going to happen to me?” Laurie asked, voice genuine. Fear creeping in, adding edge to the words.
He just needed somebody to either reassure him that everything was going to be okay or at least clear up the uncertainty, help him prepare if what was going to happen was bad.
Dionysus turned the chalice slowly in his hand, letting it catch the light of the flames and glow a little.
”I do not deal with the future,” the god answered, and Laurie could swear there was a hint of regret in his voice ”that is for my brother and the Fates. I don’t like knowing the future; it’s awfully boring. Takes the fun out of things. Prophecy is for those who need order and certainty.”
That made sense, Laurie supposed. Dionysus was a god of chaos, irrationality, emotion, instinct. He was all about living in the present.
”Fine, then what’s happening to me?” Laurent questioned, hoping that if rephrased the question Dionysus would be able to offer him something, anything at all.
”I know about as much as you do,” came the answer ”but I know a kidnapping when I see one. As to what’s going to happen when you wake up? I do not know. I’ll be honest, though; I don’t think anything good.”
Well, that wasn’t particularly helpful. Laurie already knew he was being kidnapped. Then again, he supposed it had been a stupid question. Of course he knew what was happening to him. It was the uncertainty of the future that scared him, and that was the thing Dionysus couldn’t help him with.
”Can’t you do anything to help?” Laurie asked, and he couldn’t tell whether his tone was hopeful or desperate. Probably both.
He hated that he needed to ask for saving once again, but better Dionysus than one of the other Ascendants. They didn’t have to know how incompetent Laurie was. How ridiculously easy it had been for Ripley to kidnap him.
Unfortunately, the god shook his head.
”Ironically, given that I am known as the Liberator, there is nothing I can do. I’m here to guide you, I can’t do more than that.”
Laurie sighed, running a hand through his curls as he let out a stressed exhale. He didn’t even know if the others were okay. Everything was a mess, and Dionysus couldn’t help him.
”Just stay alive, Laurent, that’s all I need you to do. And you will. You really shouldn’t underestimate yourself and your powers so much, it’s a little insulting. You are far more powerful than you know; madness is a dangerous thing.”
Dionysus leaned closer to Laurie, as if telling him a secret. But there was a dangerousness in the god’s eyes, Laurie noticed as he came nearer. A raw, uncontained power.
”I’ve had kings torn apart by their own wives and daughters with the power I hold. Trust me, kid. You’re not weak.”
Laurie swallowed then, a little nervous himself - despite knowing Dionysus would never harm him. The god just chuckled, obviously amused by this, before leaning back again and taking another sip of his drink.
”I sure hope so, because I’m the one in danger here, not you. I’m not the having-people-torn-apart type,” Laurie answered
Dionysus smiled at that, a smile which almost seemed fanged, especially in the light of the torch. Not quite human. With that, though, he rose to his feet, with torch and chalice still in hand.
”With the hit you took I doubt you’ll remember this conversation when you wake, or much before it. It’s okay, you’re going to be okay, kid. Like I said, we’re going to figure this out together. Just try not to die.”
Just like that, as if he’d never been there, Dionysus and his torch flickered out of sight, disappearing and leaving Laurie back in that same empty darkness, unsure when he would wake.
|
|
Demisexual
Leo
Surviving off Thai tea and Miguel O'hara
|
Post by Leo on Feb 3, 2021 0:54:46 GMT -5
Naida was beginning to think that separating was a bad idea. They were going through a maze of shelves where they couldn't see each other and where the other was going. Anyone or anything could be hiding in here with them. Something felt wrong.
Maybe it was the fact that it was Halloween or the fact that exiles had purposely made their presence known for the team to even come here, but either way, Naida was getting nervous.
Moving to use her key and call everyone to go back to where they entered from, Naida glanced at Kaz and started by saying; "I think we shou-"
Before she could get the rest of her sentence out, Atticus dropped from the group, vines wrapped around her feet, and dragged her back and away from Kaz. She screamed in surprise and in her panic only managed to get the cap off of her canteen and spilling water onto the ground.
Strung up like a doll, Naida was forced to wait for Atticus to come to her. She glared at the boy as he puppeteered her and forced her to do as he commanded. "Must you be so dramatic?" she asked through gritted teeth. Even the last time they fought he was over the top and theatrical.
She quieted when he said those words though. "I seem to have overestimated you."
Her blood ran hot and her lip twitched in agitation. He didn't get to say that to her. Not yet.
"Who said I needed to use the full length of my arms?" She questioned. Her fingers flexed outward and then curled into a claw looking shape as she pulled the water that had spilled on the ground up into the air. Her control was not nearly as perfect as it would have been if she was using all of her arms. But, in small percentages, Naida was able to move the water faster.
Manipulating the water, she had multiple, dagger-like streams fly at high speed towards the vines holding her up and at Atticus' face hoping to cut and inflict pain. The water did its job of freeing one of Naida's arms and one of her legs.
"What makes you think I should be on your side?" Rán's champion asked, venom in every wor she formed into the question. With her free arm, she pulled more of the water off the ground and brought it to rest easily in her hand. She glared furiously at Atticus but didn't give him a chance to answer."Because you think my goddess is a traitor to her King?"
"I am not a traitor like you, Gaea!" The voice was not Naida's. Older, powerful, and angry despite her usual soft tone. A wrathful Rán.
|
|
|
|
|
Post by Lioncl on Feb 11, 2021 20:59:13 GMT -5
Daniel was surprised that she had agreed so easily and let him take the lead not to mention actually saying something to him, albeit a single word. As he took his place in the front, he closed his blue eyes only to reopen them a few moments later which were now golden. He was glad that he had learned how to do this since it made seeing so much easier in the darkness that surrounded them. Suddenly he also heard the crash and the yell. He recognized that it was coming from River almost immediately and it sounded like Echo did as well. Daniel quickly turned around to try and stop Echo from running off by herself "Echo wait! That's not a good idea right now since we could get attacked at a moment's notice" he said
|
|
|
Post by Nariku The Avaricious on Feb 13, 2021 18:51:41 GMT -5
Irene continued onward with her two companions, ignoring Zeus to the best of her ability. The fact he couldn’t keep his issues to himself, or between him and his wife, was honestly rather exhausting. Instead of being civil, they just choose to take their frustrations out on the mortals who have no power against them. If it wasn’t for their constant bickering, those two would have been perfect for each other.
Perfect in how they’re both terrible. It reminded her way back when she’d gotten chosen by Zeus in the first place.
Back in her home city, she was sitting in the back of a cop car, ready to be arrested for stealing some *sshole’s car (which he totally deserved btw.) Before she knew it, Zeus in disguise was driving off, laughing when she explained her justification before telling her that he wanted her to learn what justice really was. Now, cut to months later and he’s done jack sh*t in that goal. All that’s happened is that he’s proven himself to be a massive hypocrite who doesn’t actually follow the ideals he preaches.
Sure, Irene wasn’t some moral authority when it came to what was fair or wasn’t, but she absolutely knew one thing: she hated liars. She hated being untruthful to people and would rather have her opinion be heard. She hated hearing Zeus rattling off on how Irene should be more dutiful, when the god couldn’t even bother to keep his own morals straight. She hated hearing about all the lies he liked to keep from her, like his previous champion.
Irene’s attention soon snapped back to the present when the other two boys’ attention were caught by something. She glanced over to where they were looking, catching a glimpse of a girl before she’d vanished into the shadows of the streets. She matched the description of one of the Exiled kids, Gwen Anker, back when she’d fought Lucien and River. A dangerous opponent she was, given what her powers were.
She was about to charge in after the other girl, but paused when something had overcome Lorenzo, seeing as he’d staggered forward and had some sort of epiphany. The champion of Zeus went up to him and rubbed his back, making sure he was steady before he spoke again. He had a point, they couldn’t let her slip away. Who knew how much damage she could create in the meantime.
“As long as you know where you’re going, Sunny Delight, I’m trusting your judgement on this,” Irene replied, giving the boy some space as she cracked her knuckles, “I’m going to need as much room as I can get so I can fry this fish-faced freak”
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Feb 16, 2021 14:29:52 GMT -5
Guinevere offered a noncommittal shrug at Lucien, filtering in the boys words with a look between fond and harrowed. When Griffin exited his room, her eyes flew up to meet his, widening ever so slightly as she gave a fond smile. She tucked some of her dark hair behind her right ear, caught up in her little crush and missing most of what Lucien was yabbering on about.
Still, she hummed, returning her attention to the younger boy with a raised eyebrow, "Are you sure it's a good idea to put that tiny fashion disaster in charge of our outfits?" She questioned, a small pout on her face. Granted, Luka did have a style, but it consisted of greens and blacks and things more befitting to the shifter. It was a sense of style that fit Luka's messy chaotic lifestyle, but wasn't something Guinevere wanted to wear herself.
Hence why she jumped at the opportunity Griffin proposed, about helping each other with their gifts. Her face lit up in a thankful grin, crossing her arms, "I'll help you if you help me!" She chirped happily. The idea of her crush helping her pick an outfit was...well somewhat horrifying but the alternative was to be dressed in whatever awful thing Luka would certainly pick.
"We ought to get ready than, petite colère," She hummed, stepping out into the hall, dressed in a red romper at the moment, and ruffled Lucien's hair a bit. "See what le serpent has planned for us."
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Feb 16, 2021 14:48:54 GMT -5
Atticus was smirking at Naida, though a distant noise seemed to catch him off guard slightly. Crashing of shelves, a cry of a girl, the plan was under way. That was splendid, indeed.
Those precious seconds were wasted, his attention turned back to Naida as she revealed that she didn't need the full length of her arms. A surprise, for him, that was. He used his staff to maintain a lot of the control of the vines, it was harder to manipulate them correctly without the staff, and he could likely never do such a feet with simply his fingers. Naida was powerful, and this show of power was revealing.
They couldn't have such a foe returning back to that Pantheon.
The vines cut easily, and despite his movements, one made a nasty little cut on his cheek. He stood still for a moment afterwards, using the pad of his thumb to wipe the small smear of blood off, glancing at it for a moment. Though he wiped it off soon afterwards, a dangerous little smile on his face.
"Then maybe she's not a traitor, per se. But she's a thief, is she not? Do anything wrong in the eyes of others, and you can be called anything they see fit." He stepped closer, using vines to sneak up behind Naida, the faintest of glows from his staff. Trickles of blood dribbled down his cheek, his chin, and yet he stepped closer. "She stole lives from the hands of mortals. She's seen as a villain, she's associated with death and robbery. Do you really think they trust you, in that Pantheon of yours?"
He stopped, his eyes becoming somewhat downcast, looking away. "It's not fair, not to you." The whisper tickled at the cold air, his eyes closing for a moment, "It's not fair that Zeus and Hera are respected as they are, when they hurt as badly as they do. Cursing others, killing them. Sure, Rán may have killed, but she is shunned for her very nature. How do they treat you, Naida? Do you hear them talk behind your back? Do you see them shun those like you?"
A pause, the glowing died down from the vines, his eyes locked on hers. "How long is it before you make a mistake, before you lose control, and they discard you? They throw you out, or hurt you, or leave you to drown in the ocean of your mistakes?"
The vines floated behind her, though he seemed to wait for her reply, her response to the words.
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Feb 16, 2021 15:06:33 GMT -5
Echo ignored Daniel out of her panic. River was in trouble, and she needed to help. What if he was hurt? Breaths coming out faster on each step, tears already in her eyes. What if her new family died too?
She slid to a stop at an intersection that went in several directions, her eyes widening as she heard a growl.
"Sweet little blood..."
Her blood went cold, breaths halting in her shock, limbs freezing. Like time had frozen around her, like those red eyes haunting her nightmares was real. Like the monster in the shadows was coming to life.
But it was.
She turned, staggering back against a shelf as she spotted Fenrir. His words became white noise, panic in her body as she looked for an escape. But it was obvious there wouldn't be one.
Still, panic made people do incredible things. Looking at Daniel, she spoke up shakily, voice wavering ever so slightly, as she pointed on the opposite path, "If we split up, he can't get us both," she pointed out, grabbing his arm and pushing him softly in one direction. The direction River's yell was from. "Try to get to River," she added, before looking at a stray piece of wood on the floor, scooping it up with her right foot slightly. Some nails stuck out of it, she noticed, and she closed her eyes, kicking it with all her might at the giant wolf.
"Go!" She commented, turning her own way. Away from River. She started running as fast as she could, limbs shaking all the while.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Feb 16, 2021 18:09:10 GMT -5
Lucien nodded in greeting to Griffin, pleased to hear that the other boy was down for some Hallowe’en fun. Lucien himself had been lucky enough to get to do Hallowe’en, when he was a kid anyway. Not once he hit about twelve. But anyway, he was glad that people who hadn’t gotten to experience it before would get to do so that night.
His look turned to a slight knowing smirk when he watched Griffin’s reaction to realising Guinevere was there. The two were crushing one on another; it was painfully obvious to everyone except them, apparently.
In response to Guinevere’s question, he chuckled lightly,
“No, but have you tried changing Luka’s mind? You’re welcome to be the one to try and argue with her on this one.” he answered
There was no way he was going to be the one to try and convince her to let them choose their own costumes. Anyway, since when was anything the Ascendants did a good idea? Having bad ideas was the only thing that had kept them alive this long.
He watched the two have their exchange with a mix of amusement and slight exasperation.
“Get it over with and go for a couple’s costume,” he commented with a raised eyebrow and a teasing smile.
They were so sickeningly loved-up he didn’t think he’d need the candy anymore. He thought they’d escaped sappy couples for the night when Liver and Laurie went out on the mission and Daniel went too, leaving Lane behind. Apparently this was not the case.
He tried to duck when Guinevere ruffled his hair, but she still managed to mess up the blond locks a little. He didn’t know what she’d called him but she knew it had small in it. He would complain but granted, it was coming from Guinevere. Almost everyone was small compared to her, she was so tall.
At this point, Lucien had no intention of third-wheeling with Guiney and Griffin. Which meant he had to find the last member of their team, and fast.
Right on cue, a crash from down the corridor. Lucien led the way, following the sound only to see Lane standing in front of a broken picture frame; it had obviously held one of the art pieces on the wall.
The girl was wearing a colourful graphic t-shirt and jeans, as was usual for the girl. Her blue hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she wore Hermes’ necklace around her neck. She was biting her lip with a guilty expression, and she’d looked alarmed when the group approached, obviously concerned for a second that it was Cleo.
In fact, she let out a relieved sigh when she realised it was just Griffin, Guiney and Lucien.
“You know you don’t have to run everywhere, right?” Lucien questioned, folding his arms and leaning against the wall.
“I don’t have to, but I can and I will.” Lane replied simply, before looking between the three “what’s up?”
Yeah, Lane was pretty impatient. She likes getting down to business when it came down to conversation. That suited Lucien; he wasn’t a small talk kind of guy.
He could tell, anyway, that even though she was acting like her usual self she wasn’t. This was a more nervous energy; she was probably worried about Daniel. Needed a distraction until he came back okay.
“Hallowe’en,” he said simply “you want in? Be warned; Luka’s got plans for the costumes.”
Lane was already in before he’d even finished the sentence, Lucien could tell. Her face broke out into a big excited grin.
”Oh, I’m in,” she agreed
And that was it; Lucien’s entire team. With that, he led the way to the meeting place he and Luka had designated. He was nervous to find out exactly what her plans were with the costumes but hey, it couldn’t be that bad, right?
|
|
|
Post by Nariku The Avaricious on Feb 16, 2021 19:53:18 GMT -5
In front of the strange figure, Pascal’s stature seemed to become more unsure and frightened as it soon dawned on him this wasn’t one of the other kids. From the sound of her voice, he could tell from that much. Though, in hindsight, he should have known it wasn’t anyone he knew, considering none of them wore a cloak and acted like they were a follower to some long dead eldritch beast.
“I- don’t think- you have the right person?” the man spoke, stuttering his words out in a mix of confusion and panic, “My name isn’t Macaria?” It was scary that this girl seemed to know who his god was, even worse when it looked like she wanted something from him. He didn’t have anything for her. She was an enemy, right? The only reason he was asked to come along was to help people if they got injured. Injured because these people wanted to cause harm to the lot of them.
As she got closer to him, Pascal took steps back in response, not wanting her to get anywhere near him, until he felt his back touch bump against one of the many shelves lining the factory. He flinched when she extended her hand, blut slowly looked down at her when she spoke.
“The crown of Hades, please.”
She wasn’t asking for it, it was a threat, he could tell that much. He blinked in confusion before looking down at the crown, still clutched against his chest. Why did she want the crown of all things? It made no sense to him. For all he knew, it turned him invisible and made people feel uncomfortable around him. Though, he didn’t need a crown to have that effect on some people…
With his back up against a literal wall, Pascal looked down at the crown again, thinking about his next course of action. One plan would be to give her what she wanted, though there was no telling if she’d leave him alone once he handed it over. Not to mention he’d lose access to the pantheon and face the anger of Hades for not even fighting for it. Another one involved him fighting back… which would likely result in his death anyway considering he hadn’t even begun to figure out what the extent of his powers were. Guess he had only one choice, which was surprisingly the one thing he was good at.
“No, I’m not giving it to you, that’s dumb,” Pascal stared at her when he said it, still confused that she’d ask for it of all things. Sure, he may have sounded like a child when he said it, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t about to hand the key to his study over to some girl who was threatening him.
“Go get your own or something.”
With that phrase, he slipped the crown on his head and ducked to the side before she had time to react. He started off with a run, but quickly slowed down so she wouldn’t be able to follow his footsteps. He wasn’t sure how well she’d be able to follow, considering what she was dealing with.
A man who’d spent his entire life being invisible to others.
|
|
|
Post by Lioncl on Feb 17, 2021 13:53:18 GMT -5
Daniel kept chasing her through the maze cursing himself for ever hurting her. Daniel thought that she was just ignoring him because of that very reason and not because she had gotten tunnel vision.
Daniel wasn't able to catch up to her until she skidded to a stop. That was when he heard a bone-chilling voice coming from behind them. He turned and was met with a stare that nearly froze Daniel in place. Daniel cursed his own bad luck having to go up against this monster of a wolf but at the same time, he remembered how injured his friends had been after going up against Fenrir. Daniel's scales started to glow as he prepared himself to fight before Echo started to talk to him and telling him to go to River. Daniel could easily tell that she was scared by the way her voice was shaking and he honestly couldn't blame her. Hell, he wanted to just turn the other way and run but he couldn't abandon Echo now. Though Daniel was confused, if anyone should be going, it should be her. She didn't have much in the way of combat so there was no way she could even think of escaping or fighting the wolf without help.
As soon as Echo started to run away, trying to lead Fenrir away from him, Daniel's body started to grow and change until he was in his crocodile-man form. "Sorry, Echo but I can't let you face him alone" he said as he threw his axe towards Fenrir. Besides, River would literallly kill me if he ever found out I let her go up against Fenrir alone, Daniel thought to himself. "Echo, you go for River and I'll hold Clifford off as long as I can" he said
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Feb 17, 2021 21:12:42 GMT -5
Upon moments of waiting, Luka hissed in irritation, it wasn't as if she had been waiting long at all. But what could she say? She was excited, and she wasn't in the mood for His Majesty to decide to wake up more and get moving.
"I'm not getting any younger," She commented, fiery eyes blazing at him, whiskers twitching, messy fur bristled slightly. There were darker marks on one of her wrists, above the paw, a dark mark that was shaped like her normal snake tattoo. It seemed to waver, almost as if warning her.
Closing her eyes, embracing the poison, her forms shifted, not in that grotesque form displayed in horror stories. Rather, in the metamorphosis of forms, something undeniably magic to it. Her umbrella setting beside them gleamed, one of her paws extending slightly, claws setting over it as paws turns to fingers, and fingers turned into a fist.
She hopped up, standing up, back in her human form, eyes strangely catlike, maybe sepernt-like even for just a moment as they adjusted to the human form once more. Shaking out her mane of hair, a scoff escaped the short girl, reaching forward and grabbing the poor boy by his jacket, tugging him after her.
"If it took this long to get you, I can't imagine how getting Ariella and Chiara will go," smirk on her lips, she pushed him closer to Chiara's door, not harshly, but as if leading a friend somewhere, and said friend was refusing whatever the other was saying.
Glaring at Theodore again, she smiled mischievously, much like the cat that ate the canary, a bit ironically. "As my Second-in-Command for this mission, I want you to go get Ariella," she ordered, before turning, practically lunging at Chiara's, "I'll get my mortal enemy."
Placing her hands on the handle, rather than knocking, Luka pretty much just tried opening the door to Chiara's room, voice stern, "Alright book bitch, we got shite to do and not a lot of time to do it, so get your nose out of your bloody pages and come on, ya bludger."
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Feb 18, 2021 18:21:36 GMT -5
Chiara had immediately returned to her room after seeing the groups off on their various missions. She’d already done enough that day, warning the groups of the danger she’d sensed, and she had no intention of doing anything else. It drained her. Her powers were constantly exhausting and overwhelming.
And she couldn’t get rid of the unsettling instinct that something bad was going to happen.
All that in mind, she’d gone to enjoy some peace and quiet, reading on her own in her room. She’d been grateful for the chance to take a break.
Unfortunately, her fellow Ascendants seemed to have other intentions.
She had just been deep into her reading, conducting more investigations that might tell them how to deal with the exiled (but especially Styx). The girl had been sitting on her bed, wearing her usual kind of outfit. A belted skirt paired with a sweater, her hair tied back to keep it out of her face while she read. Her bracelet from Heimdallr was visible on her wrist.
It was at that moment that Luka decided to burst into her room, and the girl looked up from her book with an irritated frown, snapping the volume shut as she looked at the champion of Loki.
“Just because I can hear you coming a mile away doesn’t mean you shouldn’t knock,” Chiara pointed out “What do you want?”
Chiara did not engage in the childish nicknames that most of the others did, and would not even rise to it in response to Luka’s teasing.
Once it became evident that Luka wasn’t going to leave her alone, however, Chiara let out a groan to voice her displeasure at being forced into whatever tomfoolery the rest of the group had planned. She did then, however, rise to her feet and head out of her room, ushering Luka into the hallway with her and closing the door behind her.
Honestly at this point she just wanted Luka out of her room. It was honestly like they were siblings and even the idea of Luka being inside her bedroom annoyed her.
”Whatever you’re planning, I want it noted for the record that I have no desire to partake in whatever nonsense you’re gonna do. If the Pantheon burns down I had no part in it.”
|
|
|
Post by Nariku The Avaricious on Feb 19, 2021 19:34:32 GMT -5
Theo stared at Luka as she tried to explain what she wanted, raising his brow before he crossed his arms. From what he could make out, she was proposing that they should go out on some kind of mission? Without Cleo’s permission of course. This was some kind of unofficial mission, or secret one that Luka and Lucien were leading. Something about that day and getting goods. Was this because it was Halloween?
“Oh, I see what you mean” he stated, finally catching onto what she was asking. A strangely round-about way of asking him to go trick-or-treating, but he figured Luka was too proud to straight up ask something so childish. He certainly wouldn’t be able to ask that either, especially since he’d never gone trick-or-treating for that exact reason.
Thanks dad.
“I’d like to,” Theo said, “Though, I’m not exactly done with what I planned to do today-” He started going off on everything he planned to do, like trimming his hair, getting his nails clipped, etc. However, he was cut off when Luka got annoyed and proceeded to drag him out of his room. He didn’t even have time to put himself into something more presentable! He was seconds away from objecting when-
“As my second in command for this mission-”
Theo’s eyes for a second in shock, causing him to almost miss the second part of the phrase where she instructed him to go get Ariella. Before he could even properly say anything about the fact, she’d move on to get Chiara.
Second in command. She called him her second in command for this excursion. Above anyone else in the pantheon (currently) she trusted him with this role. Sure, he wasn’t completely aware about how small this “role” really was, but the thought of him being acknowledged and given such a position made his eyes light up in anticipation. The boy had a massive grin on his face as he proceeded to make his way down the hallway to the Greek wing of the Pantheon.
Making his way to Ariella’s door, Theo managed to regain his composure enough so people couldn’t see how excited he really was. He wasn’t some over-excited child, he was someone’s right hand man for this mission. He had to act like it. Reaching into his pocket, the young man pulled out his comb and twirled it in his hand before shaping his hair into a more presentable look.
Now he was ready.
Theo reached out and knocked on Ariella’s door, “Hello! We have a job, and your assistance would be most appreciated.” He hoped the taller girl would agree to come with them, it would be embarrassing for him to ask and she ended up declining.
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Feb 21, 2021 2:51:58 GMT -5
Luka, admittedly, would have been pissed had anyone barged into her room without knocking. Though, to be fair, there’s was an easy way to prevent that. She voiced it, too, snorting at Chiara’s irritation, ”Maybe learn how to use a lock? Come on, Chiara, we both know you’re smart, at least act like it.”
While Luka had soft spots for many, and was mostly teasing to the lot of everyone, there were a few thorns that just prickled at her skin. Cleo, for one. Irene for another (the whole thunderbolt aspect really didn’t sit right with Loki either, given his own relations to lightning slinging deities). Lucien was her rival in the fact that they were both angry angsty teens who were given positions for the simple fact of sitting still and looking pretty, but he was more of a partner in crime. Theo had a soft spot in her heart, sharing some of her troubles in a different light.
But Chiara? Chiara was her fated enemy, the person she was supposedly meant to kill, the one meant to kill her. Loki had stressed that quite a bit.
It was actually quite hilarious, to be honest. When Loki stressed Ragnarok, Luka had decidedly said to him something along the lines of “I’m not letting some hippie girl be my first victim, that right is being reserved for someone who doesn’t pass out due to one little flesh wound.”
Grinning the whole time, Luka not-so-silently cheered when Chiara agreed to join in. Chiara’s ushering did little to quell her mischevious giggle that slipped, and Luka was already rubbing her hands together as she plotted.
“Nice room, by the way.” She teased, shrugging at Chiara, poking fun at her in some attempt to get the girl to at least crack a smile.
Though her smile comically fell, rolling her eyes as she turned, “You act as if I’m an imbecile. A foolish child with no idea what she’s doing.” Pushing through the Norse Wing, entering the small alcove that outlined the pool/spa, she contemplated pushing Chiara in for a moment before deciding not to test her luck (and partly because she wasn’t the most fond of water, thanks). “I’m a responsible leader, Rainbow.”
After that spectacular lie, she pushed open the doors into the main lobbies, where the main junction of the Pantheon was, nearing the location she had set to meet Lucien at, so they could describe their mission and let people split to get ready.
Hopefully, Theodore was doing well with Ariella. It was no lie that Ariella seemed to get along with Theo, and to be honest, Luka didn’t want to tick off one of the giants and get the everloving crap beat out of her if she got on Ariella’s bad side. She’d leave that to Theo. Plus, Ariella seemed fun, and Naida wasn’t there to drag along, so Ariella was the honorary Norse kid.
Plus, Luka wanted strength, persuasion, and intuition on her side. Strength because obviously that will make things easier with getting candy and keeping Lucien away from it. Persuasion because, well, more candy. And intuition because people drove absolutely insane on Halloween and Luka didn’t want to be the one to explain to Cleo why one of the kids with supernatural abilities ended up dying on a mission to get candy.
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Feb 21, 2021 3:17:19 GMT -5
Esmeralda watched Pascal with hooded eyes, though her impatience was increasing. Distantly, she could hear that growl that haunted her mind. A growl that belonged to a beast that was looking for the champion of Odin, a beast who planned to kill her the first chance he got if he ever found out the truth.
A truth which was slipping rapidly from her fingers, the tangle of lies starting to catch her in their talons. She only agreed to come on this mission in case Hades Champion would appear (though she never vocalized such a thought), and had been hopeful that the Hades champion (if there was one) wouldn’t show up.
But he did, and he seemed like nothing more than a cornered scared boy. Undermining, really, Esmeray almost thought she’d have to try to get that crown. Almost thought there would be a fight.
But looking at the boy, she incorrectly assumed he’d hand it over, she’d borrow it during the duration of his stay (not like he’d need it anyways, not where he’s going), and maybe eventually she’d give it back when she could work out some way to get it back to him and get away from Fenrir.
Hand held out, Esme watched as the look in his eyes shifted ever so slightly, her muscled already tensing in preparation for the boy to flee. She had been expecting him to simply run, but when he slipped on the crown and went invisible, she sighed out softly.
As he turned invisible, her head slowly turned to follow his footsteps until the slowed, and for a moment she made no movement. That is until her expectant hand fell to her side, raising to her chest in a soft movement.
”That’s a cool trick,” She hummed, sharp eyes focused on the directions he went, ”But you’re not the only overshadowed being in this plane,”
While Pascal was used to being invisible. Esmeray was used to being a shadow, overlooked, she was used to being sought after (royalty came like that, even the bastard children), but oh so forgotten. She was used to living in the shadows of others.
Pulling on a pin on the latch of her cloak, she melted into a shadow-like form before dissolving, at least, she dissolved to what most people would see if they weren’t in the realm of the dead.
Like the ravens associated with Odin, her dark eyes latched onto her prey, stepping forward without restraint, ”Trust me, Chosen of Hades, this is for your own good.”
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Feb 21, 2021 7:36:47 GMT -5
Chiara huffed at Luka’s suggestion that she use a lock. Oh, how she wished she could. Seriously, it was irritating that she couldn’t.
”Heimdallr said he doesn’t believe in locks,” she answered ”apparently privacy isn’t something he’s overly concerned with.”
She supposed it made sense; Heimdallr was the guardian of the Bifrost, charged with protecting Valhalla. The watchman. Still, Chiara was a normal mortal girl and privacy was something she very much wanted.
Luka complimented her room, then, to which Chiara did give a little smile
”Yeah, what’s your room like? A snake pit?” Chiara teased
She did actually like her room, it was cosy. It had wooden beams on the ceiling and wooden walls, almost like a log cabin, and wooden columns in the corners, all carved with various designs. They included Gjallarhorn, Heimdallr’s helmet with ram’s horns attached, ocean motifs, even a boat design. All symbols related to Heimdallr. Bookshelves lined one wall, made of dark, knotted, natural-looking wood. There was a fireplace in one corner all laid with stone. Her bed was enclosed within a little nook as if to give space for reading, and could be closed away with simple wooden shutters. The bedsheets were of a pale golden thread. Carpets and tapestries covered the walls and floors, the tapestries containing many scenes from Norse mythology.
It was a really relaxing place, lit with warm light. A perfect place for her to work; there was everything from a desk to a dresser that meant she had everything she needed in the room. Not only that, but it wouldn’t overwhelm her senses too much; the atmosphere was gentle and quiet.
”Sure you are,” Chiara answered at Luka’s insistence that she was responsible ”because that’s the personality trait Loki likes in a champion - responsibility”
Despite her teasing and complaints, she followed Luka. She was unsure exactly what the champion of Loki had planned, but she knew she probably wasn’t going to like it.
Still, it was best she was there. At least she might be able to stop too much chaos and destruction happening.
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Feb 21, 2021 19:32:43 GMT -5
Luka deadpanned at Chiara, snorting dismissively, "Alright, Heimdallr 2.0," she commented, already turning away from the girl by that point, "You know, if you keep listening and doing everything he tells you, you're going to end up with blood on those porcelain hands of yours. What a shame."
After the foreboding and dark humored comment, the atmosphere seemed to lighten. Chiara's guess at Luka's room was a little more accurate than Chiara probably thought. With all kinds of ledges to lounge on, all kinds of intricate areas to stretch on, to practice her shifting.
"Something like that," the acknowledgement was soft, playful still.
Luka seemed genuinely happy that Chiara was participating in the joes and jest. Chiara seemed stressed out all of the time, and as someone who Luka had to be in close quarters with for a variety of reasons, she simply couldn't have that. Not that she cared about what Chiara did, but Chiara reminded Luka of what she was like. Except, Chiara seemed content with who she was.
Still, Luka knew there was the capacity to be more than some perfect little doll who studied for a living. Chiara should have been leader, but Luka would forever protect her spot as leader from Chiara, of all people. Chiara was smart, people like Cleo liked her all because she obeyed (at least, that's how Luka saw it).
"Loki likes chaos," Luka reasoned, softly laughing under her breath, "I stray from the norm if I'm responsible. I defy what people would expect. What could he like more than that unpredictability?"
"I would like if you didn't befriend the enemy," Loki commented, though there seemed to be no truth hidden in the words, only a mischievous utter of words.
She guffawed at her guides words, the timing was perfect. Realizing she probably looked insane, she shrugged, "Loki was just telling me about how Heimdallr has had such a hateful life."
A reference, of course, to the flyting that had occurred in myth before Ragnarok. Luka really didn't want to bring up the so-called fates they had. With how much of a stickler Chiara had shown herself to be, Luka didn't want to test her luck with joking about that fate. While Luka didn't particularly care about Chiara's feeling (if she even had any), she didn't want to lose any of her team. She also didn't want to jeopardize her acquaintance-ship with Chiara.
Still, Chiara seemed a bit unsure of going out.
"You can leave your post for one day," Luka commented, waiting for Lucien with a impatient tapping of her foot, "It's not like the Pantheon is going to fall if you're not here to guard it."
|
|
|
Post by Nariku The Avaricious on Feb 22, 2021 12:53:34 GMT -5
Pascal took a moment to breathe as his heart pounded out of his chest. He’d never had to run so hard in his life, and he certainly wasn’t used to that level of physical activity. Not after spending almost a year cooped up indoors without proper nutrition. As long as he wasn’t forced to run too much, then he should be fine.
Once his breathing was under control, he glanced around his immediate area, trying to gauge the direction he ran off to. He didn’t want to get too far, since his best hope was getting back to where River and him were separated. Even if the others blamed River for what happened to that group, or if he blamed himself, the champion of Hades never held it against him. It was a matter of time before something like that happened, that’s what the fates decreed. The Ares champion promised nothing would happen to him, and while he doubted he’d be able to keep his word, he still knew that River was his best chance at getting out of there alive.
Turning around, Pascal slowly made his way back the direction he came. He stared at the rows of shelves, shivering, waiting for something to pop out and try to crush him again. The dark made it hard to see if he was going the right direction. At the very least, he had some light filtering in through a window somewhere. He wasn’t sure if the girl tried to follow him, but he froze in place when he heard what sounded like whispers.
At first, he couldn’t make out what was said. They were too quiet to make out, or they blended with a different noise. It was enough to make his skin crawl. Was it the darkness itself, compelling him to climb into the inky abyss? He wasn’t sure.
“The master’s champion has arrived.”
Pascal flinched.
“He’s a lot scrawnier than I expected, looks like a stray wind would blow ‘im over”
“Awe, the poor lad is frightened”
“How am I supposed to take this boy seriously, he doesn’t even look like he knows the first thing about giving orders.”
“Disappointing”
The young man’s eyes darted around the corridor, trying to figure out where the whispers were coming from. Was it someone nearby, far away, or was he just imagining the voices and jeers, judging him while he was trying to figure out how to survive. He always knew there was something wrong with the factory, something unseenly and cold. It felt simultaneously alive and dead, like the walls would crack and ooze blood, or the floor was going to break away at any second to reveal a grotesque pit of flesh, writhing in pain at its very existence.
He felt sick and disgusted, he just wanted to go back to the pantheon and read alone in his room.
His trail of thought shifted when his eyes spotted a shimmering glow in the direction he was going. For a moment, he was still, not sure what was ahead of him as his mind raced in anxiety. He’d hoped that his invisibility would be enough to conceal him, but when the shimmering light got closer to him, his heart sunk. The form of the girl was draped in shadow, she’d managed to find him, and by her gaze he knew she could see him. Instinctively, Pascal flung his hands up to his crown in response. Why couldn’t she just give up and go after someone else, why was she so transfixed on taking his crown?
“-this is for your own good.”
Pascal’s head shook back and forth, he felt his breathing quicken again as his palms became damp with sweat. What was he even supposed to do? She could see him when he was invisible, how exactly was he supposed to counter that?
“What kind of sorcery did you pull,” Pascal responded, clearly scared and agitated, “you can see me, the building, the shadows, the voices. What do you want!?”
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Feb 22, 2021 17:33:07 GMT -5
Laurie had lost count of how long he’d been a prisoner of the exiled. The days blended into one another at this point, and he’d given up on the idea of getting back to the Pantheon anytime soon.
The main change was his relationship with Ripley. Honestly it was hard to even remember the details of how it had happened. Ripley had told him River was dead, and Ripley had lied to and manipulated him. But he’d also been the first member of the exiled to treat him even slightly decently, as paradoxical as that sounded. Ripley could be both kind and cruel, switching between the two at the blink of an eye. The other exiled hadn’t really given him or the other kids they’d kidnapped that much thought.
It was one of the rare moments in which Laurie had a break, a moment of peace away from Ripley or any of the other exiled. Or so he thought.
Taking that opportunity, he’d headed into one of the quieter rooms of the exiled base. Rarely occupied by any of the other members of the exiled but not so far away or difficult to find that he’d get in trouble; Ripley didn’t like when he roamed too far and he didn’t know where Laurie had gone.
Dionysus was silent, so it was just Laurie alone with his thoughts as he leaned back in a rickety old chair. The room really did seem to not get that much attention, not that the exiled base had been the picture of a well-maintained building anyway before the exiled had shown up.
Little did Laurie know, he wasn’t the only one moping through the dark corridors. The soft steps of the leader of the base were quiet, sound bouncing gentle off the stony walls surrounding him. Little did either boy know that they both thought that room was a quiet place, an escape.
Atticus was a bit shocked when he turned the corner to the room, spotting the one person he seemed to see way too much of as it was. Laurie, the boy who soaked up all of Ripley’s attention. Now, of course Atticus was jealous for the simple fact that Atticus had been practically head over healed for Ripley for the last few months. To be quite fair, Atticus didn’t really know when it started, just that it did.
No, it wasn’t just jealousy. It was somewhat the feeling of loss. The Exiled used to just be a bunch of kids waiting for the day they’d have to save other kids from greedy deities who wanted to use said kids as cannon fodder. At least, that’s what his goal had been. When he took in Penny, that had been his goal. When he took in even the secretive Esmeray, he had the ideal that under his rule, they’d find protection.
It twisted out of proportion when Zeus chose that girl, Irene. Then again, maybe it had always been wrong. No matter, the goal had changed, it wasn’t about rescuing anymore, it was about winning.
Laurie was here now, and he had taken up Ripley’s time. Atticus didn’t just lose someone he had crushed on, he lost a friend. And to be honest, he didn’t know which one stung more. Being played with, or being overcast.
“What are you doing in here?” He snapped at Laurie, almost immediately. Atticus had come for peace and quiet, a place to think, to avoid. But like Laurie had done since he unwillingly came to the Exiled, he had to steal that too.
Laurie was a little startled by the sudden voice, the slight echo it held in the too-empty room. He looked up to see a figure in the doorway, one he recognised at Atticus.
Laurie hadn’t spoken that much with Atticus, but that didn’t change much. Laurie might not be the most book-smart person, but he was no fool. Especially not when it came to love. Laurie had seen all kinds, from simple lust to broken-heartedness, from the indifference of a one-night stand to head-over-heels love. Or so he’d thought at the time.
And he’d seen the way Atticus looked at Ripley.
The French boy rolled his shoulders forward in a slight shrug, grateful for the way the material of the shirt he wore covered the injuries Ripley had inflicted on him. Little spiteful cuts and burns. Warnings to do what Ripley told him to, reminders that Laurie belonged to him now. Control, possession. But more than that, Laurie knew he was just a canvas, a blank slate for Ripley to take out his anger on.
He couldn’t give a shit about Laurie beyond that. That and his powers, maybe.
Not that Atticus seemed to care about any of that, and why should he? All he cared about, all he knew was the jealousy he must be feeling. Laurie knew that.
Still, he wasn’t here to feel sorry for Atticus. He couldn’t feel sorry for his captors anymore.
“Same thing as you, probably,” Laurie replied, his tone just as sharp as the one Atticus had used “getting away from this place for a little.”
It got too much sometimes. He needed a place to go. And not the place Ripley wanted him to be. Laurie needed his own space, where he could think his own thoughts and be him for once. He’d forgotten what that was like by now.
He looked towards the other male, meeting his gaze without fear. He was Ripley’s toy, and he knew Atticus wouldn’t hurt him even if it was out of jealousy or to spite Rip. He’d have the Champion of Set’s wrath to deal with if he did that; Ripley probably loved how jealous it made Atticus, but Laurie knew he wouldn’t like it if someone other than him dared lay a finger on Laurie.
“Look,” Laurie sighed after a moment of tense silence “I know you don’t like me, and honestly I’d be concerned if you did. But we don’t have to be hostile to one another.”
Atticus scoffed at Laurie, returning to his usual proud demeanor as he went to sit on a nearby chair by the desk where some of his notes and writings were scattered. Picking up a news article, he glanced at it in disinterest.
Laurie was insistent, though, and Atticus sighed out deeply, looking back at the French boy with tired, exhausted eyes. “Fine, you don’t want hostility?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow at Laurie, seeming curious for just a moment.
The gaze darkened, eyes narrowing at Laurie with a mix of hostility and anger, “Then get out.”
He turned back to his notes, as if he really expected Laurie to leave at his command. He didn’t want to deal with Laurie anymore than necessary.
Laurie rolled his eyes at that. He wasn’t dealing with this any more. He’d spent far too much time around the exiled since he was kidnapped and if he’d learned anything it was that on occasion he needed to stand up to them. It was like any pack of predators; if you didn’t show you had teeth like them, you might as well be prey. Like Ripley thought Laurie was.
Ripley was the only one Laurie was truly afraid of.
“I have just as much right to be in this room as you do,” Laurie pointed out “and unless you’re planning on letting us go anytime soon, you’re going to have to deal with the fact that we’re going to run into one another from time to time.”
That much was certain. They were going to have to have a little bit of maturity about this, because honestly the arguing was more exhausting than anything else. Laurie was already both physically and mentally exhausted from stress, from trying to deal with Ripley and his mind games. He didn’t need Atticus too.
“I know what this is really about, anyway, and since we’re all stuck together we might as well deal with the elephant in the room.” Laurie stated, swallowing a little as he tried to gain his confidence; sure, Ripley was the only one he was truly scared of, but this wasn’t exactly a comfortable conversation and he couldn’t predict how it was going to go.
“I’m not an idiot, I see the way you look at Ripley.” Laurie said finally “and I wish I could tell you I’m sorry but I’m not. You should know what he’s like, you’ve seen him. You must be blind if you haven’t seen the way he’s been treating me. And stupid if you think he isn’t playing you just the same as he’s playing me.”
Laurie knew it wasn’t that easy to hide. Emotional and physical abuse of the kind Ripley inflicted on him? There was only so long things like that stayed secret. Atticus must know. And Laurie knew Ripley probably saw Atticus like another toy, much like Laurie. Even if perhaps Atticus was the bigger prize.
“Is this the back off of your man talk?” Atticus attempted to joke, raising his hands up slightly as he turned to Laurie. The boy had his attention now, with his words.
The boy before him, who was treated like a joke by his old friends, that was treated like a toy even now. He was powerful, sure, but he was smart in his own little way. He was a lot more powerful than he thought.
Laurie was a threat, and while Ripley went after him because he saw a set of pretty eyes and a pretty accent, Atticus could see the gears in Laurie’s head. But Laurie was a coward, and so Atticus didn’t fear him.
Atticus would never fear anyone, he lost most of his self-regard the day Alice took her last breath.
Taking a deep breath of his own, Atticus let his eyes roam over Laurie for a few moments, before he finally let off a sigh. “That’s the thing. You don’t get to control a lot in life. You start playing a game, you get addicted.” His chocolate eyes trailed on Laurie, before he looked to the side. “You should know better than anyone that you don’t get to control your weaknesses.”
Finally resettling his gaze on Laurie, he hummed slightly, “Your weaknesses control you.”
Now, Atticus wasn’t about to let Laurie take charge of a conversation, talk down to him. He wasn’t going to let Laurie pretend he understood.
“It’s not like you have any room to talk, anyways.” He commented, softly, almost sympathetically. “You have to know that your River is alive, don’t you? You let that control you, just like Ripley.” A pause, enough for a soft breath, “You’re the chosen of Dionysus, and yet you let everyone else control you. That’s the difference between you and I.”
At first Laurie had scoffed at Atticus’ little comment about the ‘back off my man’ talk. Of course that wasn’t what this was, but Atticus knew that.
Either way, they were talking now, which was at least slightly a good sign. He didn’t think they’d ever completely put their animosity behind them, but perhaps this conversation might clear the air. Put all their cards on the table.
“You have a funny idea of love,” Laurie commented softly “if you think it’s weakness. Perhaps you’ve been watching Ripley with me too much to know what it really looks like.”
When Atticus spoke about River being alive though, Laurie caught a shallow breath before clamping his mouth shut. Yes, Ripley had lied to him. Ripley had lied to him about everything and that knowledge was painful. Atticus was right about one thing; Laurie had let himself be manipulated and controlled.
It hurt to be reminded of that, but it hurt no more than the things Ripley said to him every day. Laurie had nothing to lose here. He took another breath, though there was a slight shudder in it. The only real sign apart from perhaps a change in his eyes that Atticus had actually gotten to him.
“You’re threatened,” Laurie reasoned “I get it. I’m sure Ripley dropped little barbs, little comments to make you feel that way. Because you’re no less controlled than I am. But believe me, I’m no threat to you.”
Laurie knew that much. Ripley’s attention might seem to be on Laurie, but the French boy knew all too well the lack of… anything in it. Certainly not affection. Laurie might as well have been anyone. He was a pretty boy, someone the exiled needed for his powers and someone Ripley could easily use as a punching bag. Nothing else mattered.
“You should be glad his attention is on me and not you. He’s toying with you, doing it slowly. He’s savouring it. That’s good, at least it’s a sign he might care a little more. But make no mistake about how it’ll end. You can play his games all you want but it won’t help you, it won’t make him a caring person, it won’t make him change.”
Laurie honestly didn’t even know what he was trying to do here. Help Atticus see a truth he already knew? Save a boy who didn’t want saving? He didn’t know, but all Laurie knew was that he was hurting and he knew Atticus was hurting too and it was foolish of them both.
Staring at Laurie, the smallest of smiles fell over Atticus’ face, “He used to be my best friend, at least, I thought so,” he commented, resting his elbows lazily over the back of the chair, laying his head there to watch Laurie. A flicker of emotion passed over his eyes, watching Laurie, “That’s the funniest part, though. He toys with people, not because he loves them, but because it gives him power.”
Laurie was wrong about Ripley, Ripley didn’t care for anything or anyone, but Atticus had accepted that. He had come to terms with that, because no matter what he himself felt, he didn’t have time to worry about his own emotions. He sacrificed that ability when he became the leader of the Exiled.
“The only thing Ripley loves is power,” Atticus hummed, keeping control over his emotions and voice, speaking softly in case Ripley may barge in, “I know that. I’ve been through that,” not with Ripley, no, but with others. A person who he loved who used him to take out their anger, who manipulated him into believing they felt the same.
It still hurt, it never stopped hurting. “But Ripley isn’t the leader of my people,” Atticus commented, “And he can hurt whoever he wants, but I’m not afraid of him.” A bit of a lie, Atticus was afraid of what Ripley could do to his emotions, had already done. But Atticus wasn’t afraid of Ripley ever hurting him like he hurt Laurie. Not because he didn’t ever think Ripley would do it, but because he knew wasn’t a helpless lamb. He made himself into a hunter.
“Ripley doesn’t control me, because I don’t let people control me anymore. The choices I make? They’re mine.” He made his choices, yes, but he made them based on what he thought was necessary for his group. The point still stood, curiosity overtaking his gaze, “You’re this oh so powerful champion of Dionysus, and yet you let yourself be controlled.” If Ripley was such a bad person, why did Laurie let it continue? Was it because the pain made him feel? The attention, as horrible as it was, made him feel wanted.
It was Laurie’s turn to smile his own small, quiet smile at Atticus’ words.
“Ripley gets more enjoyment out of it than just power, I assure you. He’s had power over me from day one by virtue of my being his prisoner.” Laurie pointed out
But no, that wasn’t the real point he wanted to make. Instead he picked up on Atticus’ words about him being the one who was in control.
“Right, you’re the leader here,” Laurie nodded “and was it you who controlled the decision to bring me here? Not Ripley’s? Don’t lie to yourself, Atticus. I’ve seen the ripped up photograph of me, and I know Ripley wouldn’t be the one to tear it, not when he could carry it around like a trophy. You didn’t want me here, and he brought me anyway.”
Laurie had found it a while ago. Proof that the kidnapping had been planned quite some time in advance, and probably Ripley’s manipulation too. Atticus couldn’t fool him.
“You can play at being in control all you want but if you were really in control you wouldn’t feel jealous about Ripley and I.” Laurie said simply
He had seen the dynamics of the exiled, he took note of those kind of things. He was an actor, his business was emotions. More than that, his business was lies. Good lies, wonderful lies. But lies.
Laurie rose to his feet then, pulling down the sleeves of his shirt a little further as he did so before casting his gaze back to Atticus.
“It’s funny that Ripley calls me a lamb. You know how they slaughter lambs, right? You don’t let it know what’s happening to it. You ease it, slowly, don’t let it realise what’s about to happen. So it doesn’t panic; it spoils the meat. I didn’t realise what was happening at first, but my eyes are wide open now. I’m just surprised yours have stayed closed so long.”
He approached Atticus then, this time actually drawing back one of his sleeves to reveal one of the little injuries Ripley had caused him.
“Go ahead, look at it. It’s fine. You can touch it if you want. Nothing you haven’t seen before. I know you think I’m a coward to let him do this to me. I know you think I’m a coward for staying, an idiot for believing the lies he tells me. But I don’t think that’s all. Do I scare you, Atticus? Does this scare you? If it doesn’t then it should. Not just this, but the emotional damage too. Because you’re not safe from this, you’re not in control of this, you’re not above this. As pathetic as you think I am, if you keep this going this is how it’s going to end. Be jealous if you want, but no sane person would envy me. And no smart person would truly believe Ripley sees anyone differently.”
“Isn’t that what I said?” Atticus hummed, snorting at Laurie, “Ripley doesn’t love anyone. Certainly not me. Not you either,” he affirmed, though he gently grabbed Laurie’s wrist, pulling the sleeve back down, and let off a small sigh, “But I’ve seen too much to be scared anymore. You think I’m a fool, but I’m where I’m at for a reason. There’s a reason I am the leader, not Ripley, certainly not you.”
He pushed Laurie arms away then, “And no matter how smart or foreboding you think you are, you don’t understand a thing about me or anyone else here. Maybe Ripley, but you haven’t known him for years. You’re not a mind reader, so maybe stop acting like one.”
A pause, some thoughts budding, and Atticus finally continued the words.
“It’s fine that you’re self-centered,” Atticus continued, crossing his own arms, “But you should really learn that you're not the center of the universe. Not everyone is as pathetic and miserable as you. Not all of us are seen as the prey. I appreciate your little warning though, but I’ll repeat it again, I’m not you, and I certainly don’t need advice from you on how to live. I think the roles we’re in are rather telling, are they not?”
Turning to leave, he stepped closer to the exit, looking back at Laurie for a moment, “You can burrow away here to hide. That’s what you're good at doing, isn’t it?” The smallest of smirks on his lips, an understanding more than a taunt rising to his lips.
“You know, Ripley once said you have warm eyes,” Atticus commented softly, pushing the door open, “I don’t think he did them justice,” he admitted, looking back over his shoulder, “You’re a lot more than a set of warm eyes, Laurie.”
|
|
|
Demisexual
Leo
Surviving off Thai tea and Miguel O'hara
|
Post by Leo on Feb 22, 2021 22:57:52 GMT -5
Naida dragged more water from the ground and into the palm of her hand. Moments like this she wished she had a larger canteen. Or was at least closer to the Ocean so she'd be better equipped for a fight.
Continuing to pull at the vines holding the rest of her limbs, Naida held out one hand towards Atticus, ready to attack if he came too close. Her brow furrowed as he spoke though. Trying to get her to agree with him and side with him. She stopped her struggling and just stared at him for a long moment, searching his face for any deception.
For a long few moments, she stood there silent as she thought over his words. And then she sighed heavily and raised her head.
"You're pathetic."
She lowered her arm briefly as she gave Atticus a bored look. "Are you seriously trying to manipulate my thoughts and make me doubt my allies? My friends? Do you think I'm that low in self-esteem and that damaged to think even a fraction of the garbage that just came out of your mouth was true? Sure, I have my trauma and pain but it's not from them. I know they care and respect me as I do them," She countered, blowing a strand of hair from her face as she rolled out her shoulder and stretched her neck.
"If I could remember how to, I'd laugh in your face. Do your research on the people you attack before trying to get them onto your side," She offered bluntly. There was no remorse in her voice as she continued. If anything there was a hint of pity on her features. Pity for this boy who seemed to have every advantage at the moment. But, still, she continued.
Raising her arm back up to face Atticus, she took a calming breath and prepared to attack again. "Poor sad little boy. Pushing his own insecurities onto others... I'd suggest investing in a therapist."
|
|
Demisexual
Leo
Surviving off Thai tea and Miguel O'hara
|
Post by Leo on Feb 22, 2021 23:22:11 GMT -5
Fenrir growled loudly as the objects and weapons thrown at him struck. The board with nails didn't sting as much as the axe slicing through his skin. He snarled at the pain but quickly left it alone as the crocodile boy started to change. The mangled and guttural laugh echoed out of the wolf's throat and sounded louder as he opened his jaws. "What fun, what fun..." he laughed. He ran straight for Daniel and clamped his jaws down on his shoulder. Even with his powerful jaws, he was unable to properly bite down on the scales. He was a tough opponent. And still, the whole maintained his hold. "Finally a challenge my size. Try not to be disappointing, boy," Fenrir suggested through a mouthful of Daniel's shoulder. "I have very little patience of my time being wasted."~~~~~~~~ Ripley had gone back to his perch from earlier. Having stored Laurie in a closet to pick up later, he was basically free to help anyone he wanted at this point. And yet here he was watching everyone have their own battles. He couldn't hear anything that anyone was saying from up here, but he could imagine. From here it looked like their new kid was having a good time torturing the shy goth-looking boy and keeping the grinder away from them, Atticus was dealing with the water girl, but he was bleeding which was a bit of a concern, Fenrir was fighting the asshole crocodile boy, and Echo... was unattended by anyone. Leaning forward on his perch, Ripley smirked and watched her run. Pulling out his phone, he sent a message to the only one with them that wasn't accounted for yet. Nathan be a dear and go pick up the little girl for me. Shouldn't be too much trouble even for you Along with the message, he sent a quick photo of where she was before just sitting back and waiting for anything else to happen.
|
|
|
Demisexual
Leo
Surviving off Thai tea and Miguel O'hara
|
Post by Leo on Feb 23, 2021 0:18:40 GMT -5
Managing to get where he and Pasal had been separated, River looked around frantically for where his partner was. His speartip was still pointed at the ground, heart racing in his ears, pain and panic clouding his head as he searched the area around them.
Where was Pascal? Had something happened to him, was he hurt, did someone take him? "Pascal!" River called starting to run in a random direction. Of course, he had no idea where the boy was, he had no idea what Pascal could really even do with his powers. "Pascal where are you?"
After running for a few more moments, River felt his anxiety start to rise again. This felt way too familiar. It was happening all over again. "Shit! This is a mess," he hissed to himself. He ran his free hand through his hair and let out a quick sigh.
Now was not the time to panic.
"Tell me where you are, Pascal! Give me a sign!"
|
|
|
Post by Lioncl on Feb 23, 2021 1:13:51 GMT -5
Nathan was laying down on the ground spread eagle as he waited for someone to come by. He was getting bored of waiting where he was told to and he just wanted to go run around and let loose for once. That was when he could hear someone calling out for another and a wide smile came across his face. It looked like he could finally have a little fun with whoever that was. He just hoped that it was someone with a little combat potential so it didn't end quickly. Now that would piss him off more than anything right now.
Nathan jumped up off the ground and patted down his clothes to get any dust off before he started going after wherever the voice was coming from. After several minutes of making his way towards the voice, he finally caught a glimpse of red hair running around. Nathan let out a loud laugh out of pure joy when he realized it had to be Ares' champion since he was the only red head that he could think of. "You getting lost War Boy?" He called out to River "You in need of some directions?"
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Feb 23, 2021 2:28:52 GMT -5
Chiara rolled her eyes at Luka’s words about Loki liking chaos. Chiara knew that, that was Loki’s defining characteristic. Chaos, which was something she’d never understand. Chaos was powerful but impossible to control, and that was dangerous.
”One of many reasons he and Heimdallr don’t get along.” Chiara answered simply.
That and, you know, their fates being fixed and involving each of them dying to the other. The watchman of the Aesir didn’t often talk about that, and Chiara didn’t push him. But his animosity towards Luka was clear, as was his dislike of the two of them being friends.
”You’re wasting your words with her,” Heimdallr was saying ”she’s no different from her guide.”
Chiara resolutely ignored him. Loki and Heimdallr’s business was their business alone. And besides, if the linked fate of the two gods really was going to bleed through in real life and make Luka and Chiara threats to one another, that would happen regardless or whether they were friends or not. That was how fate worked, after all.
At the reference to the flyting, Chiara chuckled slightly.
”Careful,” she joked, leaning closer to the other girl and lowering her voice to an almost conspiratorial tone ”I might be better at insulting than my guide.”
Probably not, but she’d certainly give it a try if need be.
At the girl’s last comment though, Chiara smiled slightly.
”The way you said that sure makes it sound like it will.” the girl answered ”but I see your point.”
They just had to wait for the others now. Theo and Ariella and Lucien, Griffin, Guinevere and Lane.
|
|
|
Post by Nariku The Avaricious on Feb 27, 2021 16:47:13 GMT -5
Theo looked up at Ariella when came to the door, quicker than he was anticipating. It was good that he didn’t have to wait long for her to come to the door, however, when she started asking what was up, he stood frozen in place. Her swiftness had caught her off guard, that’s all.
It should have been expected, though, considering he hadn’t made up his mind if he wanted to hold the tournament against her. On one hand, she was probably one of the nicest people in the Pantheon, and she thankfully didn’t show any animosity to him. On the other, it was hard to get over the fear of pissing off a giant woman, who was probably capable of bench pressing a tow-truck without much trouble.
Internally, Theo shook his current thoughts out, letting out a couple of “ehems” to help get his mind focused on what he’d been sent over to do in the first place. A second in command shouldn’t stand around dumbfounded like that!
“No no, no one is actually hurt,” Theo responded, “however, we’ve been invited to go on a special mission to procure some sweets on this night. We felt that your help would be valuable for this- uh, competition”
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Mar 2, 2021 18:50:10 GMT -5
Laurie’s dreams, too, linked him to his guide. Mostly memories, on occasion what the god was doing that very moment.
Dionysus was special, the god had insisted to Laurie. The youngest of the gods had been born an immortal but grown up among mortals. He’d been part of the world of men, for a time. Though with his immortality, time meant very little to him now and he was disconnected from the life he’d had on earth. Laurie had insisted he couldn’t be connected to mortals at all, being that he was an immortal and couldn’t understand that death was the very thing that made human life the way it was.
Still, Dionysus had insisted, he’d had to prove his godhood. He’d always had it, not like Herakles who had earned it with his great deeds in service of the gods. Dionysus had suffered. Fought wars, wandered in madness. Most insulting of all to him was people not recognising his divinity.
————
In one of these dreams, Laurie found himself standing in dim light. The air was heavy, moist and close, clinging to the boy’s skin. He could hear the cracking of wood and rope, and the rushing of the sea told him he was below the deck of a ship.
He caught sight of a flickering light, and followed it along with the sound of footsteps. He was unconcerned about his own creaking footsteps; he’d been in enough of these dreams to know the figures could not perceive him, no matter how real the dream felt.
Eventually he could make out the figures of a group of men, one of whom was holding a small oil lamp in his hand. Laurie approached the group just in time to see the man lift the lamp to reveal in its pale, golden light another figure.
A young man sat against a wooden post. The candlelight hit the contours of his face, flickering as if uncertain. He had long, dark hair which fanned slightly against the post behind him as he rested his head against it. His eyes seemed dark but Laurie could swear they somehow had a purplish tint. Everything about him seemed slender, elegant, and he was of a slim build.
Laurie had only ever seen his guide portrayed in two versions; a more mature, bearded version, and a young, more androgynous version. This one was clearly the latter. The version Laurie was used to was somewhere between the two.
“Why is he unbound?” questioned one of the men surrounding the young Dionysus; he looked the oldest of the group, harsh-faced and worn by the unforgiving sun and the sea air.
“We tried, captain,” answered another of the men as quickly as he would dare, voice apologetic “no rope binds him, they keep slipping off.”
The captain looked irritated at this, Laurie noted, shooting the crew member the kind of contemptuous look that told him he thought the man completely stupid.
“Let me try, idiot,” he spat
The crew member, afraid to incense his captain any further, offered the rope without a word. The captain snatched it from his hand far too sharply before turning to approach Dionysus. The young god watched his approach with a glint of amusement in his eyes, even patiently offering his wrists to allow the captain to try and bind them.
The captain looped the rope around the young man’s wrists, pulling it as tight as he could (too tight, really) as he tied a deft knot with the rope. Dionysus just smiled a quiet, knowing smile.
And when the rope slid off his wrists as if it were nothing, that smile turned just a little bit smug.
The captain tried twice more, growing more frustrated with each try when the rope slid off. He even tied it tight enough to leave marks, but it didn’t stop the rope slipping from the god’s wrists.
“Never mind,” the captain grumbled “we’re in open water; there’s nowhere for him to run.”
He took a step back, satisfied, before looking to the crewmen surrounding him.
“Look at the clothes he’s wearing,” the man commented, nodding towards the rich fabrics adorning the dark-haired boy “he looks like we could get a good price if we ransomed him, or else he’d make someone a pretty slave, don’t you think? Young, healthy, good-looking, well-bred.”
With those final words the captain had stepped forward to grab Dionysus’s chin, turning his head slowly from side to side to take a look at him. Dionysus tried to pull away from the Captain’s grip, and Laurie could see a storm in the dark eyes he narrowed at the Captain.
The crewman who had been holding the oil lamp cleared his throat then, looking Dionysus over.
“But the rope, sir,” he protested “and just look at him. We should be more cautious; there is the look of the divine about him. He could be a god; we must treat him gently, release him at the next port. The last thing we need is to bring Zeus’ wrath down on us. Let us just be done with the boy.”
The captain burst out laughing then, the rest of the crew accompanying him.
”Acoetes, you mad fool, has all your years at sea taught you no wisdom? He’s perhaps Egyptian, or Cypriot, not Olympian. Either way, he’s rich, maybe a prince, and people will pay well for him.” the captain responded “he may have gotten his looks as a divine gift, but this is no god in front of us.”
The captain met Dionysus’ eyes at those last words, as if challenging the young man to assert anything different. Dionysus stayed silent, and the captain let out a quiet scoff. Satisfied, he began to step away, gesturing for the rest of the crew to follow him.
“Hoist the sails. We’re moving immediately,” he ordered
Laurie watched the group of men disappear, the light from the oil lamp dwindling to nothing. And as that light faded into the distance, there was a new fire all its own below the deck.
This time blazing in Dionysus’ eyes, as he smiled a far more dangerous smile.
|
|