|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 13, 2021 18:18:39 GMT -5
Since Lane had been told about the new mission, she’d tried and tried to put her focus on it. Had been spent time in the training room, hoping to learn to outspeed even the reflexes of those automated training machines with her dagger.
But she’d had a strange feeling even while she was training that it was something else she was really training for, not this mission. Something bigger.
Her necklace seemed to grow a heavier weight around her neck. She felt it more against her skin, felt more and more aware of each little bead. Each precious measure of her soul. All of them still that same green-blue that they always had been. But she could tell, she could feel that the knowledge of the danger her soul was in would only draw her like a magnet more to her own demise. After all, didn’t that always seem to happen when it came to prophecies and such things?
She’d been doomed from the second Hermes had saved her from that car. Still, she figured, there were some advantages to your days being numbered and having nothing to lose.
Like an itch in her brain, her mind had kept wandering constantly to Daniel and the other kidnapped Ascendants. A relentless nag, some burning feeling telling her that she couldn’t wait. That they could do this mission without her but she was needed somewhere else.
And deep down within her, like she’d always known it, the answer. The Underworld. The home of Hades and Persephone. The land of Titans and primordial deities. The stomping grounds of fallen heroes far greater than she. Where Orpheus and Eurydice still walked together.
But most importantly, she knew it had to hold answers. Answers to something. A way to get the others back, maybe. A weakness of the exiled? After all, she knew Styx had strong links to the Underworld. That had to mean something. Something about the girl’s taunts in that last fight seemed to pull her there, seemed to dare her to search it out.
There had to be something there, she was sure of it. A way to help, a way to get to them. Anything at all. Besides, she had Hermes at her side. If anyone was going to be able to steal from Hades’ realm, right from under his nose, it would be the champion of Hermes.
The night before the mission, the swirling thoughts in her mind had already become too strong a current for her to fight anymore. She’d asked Hades to show her how to get there, and he’d agreed to do so.
It would be wrong to assume that Lane didn’t feel guilty about abandoning her friends the night before a mission. In fact, in order to make the sour feeling abate she’d had no choice but to write a note for them to find.
‘To my friends,
If you’re reading this note, I’ve made what is probably the stupidest decision of my entire life. And believe me when I say there have been many. Surprising, I know.
There’s a lot to explain that I don’t have time to in this letter, but if Pascal comes back he can explain everything via Hades. The short version is that I was supposed to die. Hermes saved my life, and my soul is owed to the Underworld. This, and being Hermes’ champion, gives me at least some advantages despite the whole me having to die because I disrupted the Fates doing their Fatey thing situation.
I’m able to travel through the Underworld - at a price. I’m sure you know where this is going. That’s where I’m headed. I think it might have some answers for us, and there’s only one exiled I know of who also has a connection to that place. I’ll be better off going where only one can follow.
I’m sorry I left before the mission. I just think that I have to use what Hermes gave me. Not a second chance at life, but a shot at meaningful sacrifice. It’s going to take something big to help us get the others back, so if there’s ever a time for me to use it, it’s now. I’m sorry I let you down, but if I don’t do this I’ll always wonder if things would’ve gone better if I had.
Hopefully I can help us get the others back.
I’m not exactly optimistic about my chances, but then what else is new? With any luck I’ll return, hopefully with something we can use. If not, I love you all.
Daniel, if you come back and I don’t, there’s a lot of things I should’ve said. I won’t say them now because they deserve to be said to your face and, frankly, it’s too painful to write them down here. But I know you know what I mean. And I’m so, so sorry.
Anyway, I’m hoping I’ll come back safe and the sappiness in this note was pointless. Thank you all for being my friends.
All my love, Lane’
With the note left, Lane now stood before the shimmering light of a portal. A backpack sat on her shoulders, a dagger at her hip, hair tied back at always from her face. Her eyes followed the rippling, swirling colours for a moment,
”Are you scared?” Hermes asked tentatively after a long moment of hesitant silence, obviously concerned that Lane was getting cold feet.
”Terrified.” she swallowed
”Don’t overthink it, okay? It’s as easy as walking through a door.”
Lane wanted with every fibre of her being to run. Every cell of her body was screaming that she should want to survive, not run to what would probably be her death. She pressed her lips together for a moment, trying to stop them trembling.
”You said my soul is dying. This will kill it more, yes? Draw it more to Hades?” she asked shakily
Another long pause as Hermes refused to reply, except by a heavy silence. Lane knew that meant ‘yes’, and she took a painful breath
”If you really want to go there, this is the only way. Your soul is already gone, little one. You’re clinging onto a life I gave you, one that isn’t really real. Your real life ended on that road. I know it’s hard to hear, Lane, but I can’t lie to you. This is a chance to make that life mean something, okay? You’re going to be alright. I’m a trickster, sweetie, everything is what I make it. I’m going to look out for you down there.”
Hermes’ surprisingly gentle words were comforting, despite the death sentence he’d essentially just given her. Lane nodded a sad and rueful smile, but nodded, staring still at the portal.
She’d do it.
”Okay, this isn’t going to be able to work like a usual portal. You’re going to need my help. Close your eyes… now when I tell you, step through.”
Lane obeyed the guide’s instructions, shutting her eyes. One hand gripped a strap of her backpack for stability, the other instinctively touching her necklace. As Hermes told her to step forward she did so. One slow, heavy step into weightlessness. But not the same weightless feeling as normal. It was emptier, colder. As if rushing through freezing mountain air.
But suddenly the air felt still and cloying instead, and she landed with a thud on hard, dry ground. Less graceful than her portal exits with Hermes usually were.
Lane stood in terrified, overwhelmed silence for a few moments. Eyes screwed shut as if opening them would make it real.
But finally, finally she had to. Her blue eyes flew open to drink in the sights of the realm of the dead.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 15, 2021 15:32:28 GMT -5
Lucien nodded as Luka and Cleo confirmed everything. He was a little disappointed that he couldn’t go on the mission himself, but he understood the reasoning. Besides, he could be useful back here at the Pantheon. River’s key around his neck was a physical reminder of that. A reminder to keep his focus, to stay back and protect the others. That being there in case they needed him was just as important a job.
He rose to his feet in preparation to leave, but after Luka had said her words, he caught her arm before she could step out of the door.
”Luka?” he began, swallowing ”I mean it, okay? Just… look after yourself.”
With those earnest words said, Lucien gave a small nod as he released Luka’s arm, waiting for her to leave. Once she was gone, it was just him in the room, Cleo having stepped out before. He lifted his hand to the light switch, plunging the leaders’ room into darkness, and paused for one last look at the shadowy shape of the leaders’ table before stepping out into the hallway.
He’d head straight to the medical wing and sort through supplies. He wasn’t medically trained, but his healing powers couldn’t heal everything and Pascal was gone. He had to work with what he had, and he had to prepare for the possibility that people might get hurt on that mission the next day.
Perhaps if he got some time, he’d head to the training room afterwards. Much like some Ascendants were spending every free moment in the library lately, Lucien frequented the training room whenever he wasn’t with Luka and Cleo.
But for now, he’d spend the new few hours preparing for his role the next say. Prepping the medical room, testing the comms systems. He knew that Cleo and Luka would’ve done a lot of that themselves before the mission, but he didn’t feel like he could relax yet. Not until he’d done everything he could to make sure the mission went smoothly.
First stop, the medical wing.
|
|
|
Post by Lioncl on Sept 18, 2021 17:26:10 GMT -5
Daniel's eyes slowly opened for the first time since he had passed out during his fight with Fenrir. He winced as he felt searing pain across his chest and took his brain a few moments to catch up and remember everything that had happened before he had gone unconscious. He raised his hand to his chest and could feel his torn shirt and what now felt like scar tissue which confused Daniel since he knew he didn't have a healing ability. Did Fenrir leave him to die and the other Ascendants found him and brought him back to base so he could be healed? That thought made him finally raise his head and look around the room. He noticed this room looked nothing like any of the rooms he had gotten familiar with and he came to the realization that he was not at the Ascendant base. The next thing he noticed were his friends all unconscious and littered around the room which caused his stomach to drop at the sight. It didn't take him long to figure out that they had most likely been kidnapped by the Exiled. When his eyes landed on Echo, he felt his throat tighten and he bit his lip as he felt his frustration and anger at himself build until it was about to burst. All he wanted to do was protect his friends but at every turn he fails and it was starting to get to him. He ripped his eyes away from Echo and looked up at the ceiling to try and calm himself down since he didn't want the others to see that he had been crying when they wake up.
It took him a bit to finally settle down and his thoughts went to Lane. He wondered how she would react when found out what happened to all of them. She'd probably try to hide how she was feeling but be panicking on the inside. His thoughts quickly turned to him wondering if he would get out of here, if he would get to see Lane and her smile again. God, he wished he had just told her about his feelings for her but he was so afraid of losing one of the few emotional connections he had left that he had kept it to himself and now he was regretting it. Daniel let out a deep sigh before he closed his eyes thinking of how much of a worthless idiot he was.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Sept 24, 2021 14:55:56 GMT -5
Chiara had barely been out of the library since the kidnappings. She’d even slept there more nights than she’d cared to admit. She only left for meals and to train, and ignore the way her eyes burned and muscles aches and body felt heavy with exhaustion.
She felt partly responsible for what had happened. After all, she hadn’t needed to let Luka encourage her to go out that evening. Why had she listened to her? Why had she let herself think that she could step back for even a moment. She wasn’t a leader, didn’t have those same responsibilities, but at the same time her powers were important, as that night had proven.
If she’d been there, they might have been able to get the help they needed sooner. River might not have been hurt, the others might not have been kidnapped.
But she hadn’t done her job.
Heimdallr had originally tried to encourage Chiara to take better care of herself, but had since apparently given up. He understood the burden Chiara had held, or rather had placed on herself, and his patience was no match for her obstinacy.
Unfortunately, said stubbornness had led her to clash with Luka. A nasty little verbal sparring match that had left neither of them feeling good. Chiara did feel bad about that, because she knew Luka had been expressing concern for her, which was rare for the Loki champion. Chiara should’ve responded positively to that behaviour rather than getting angry and putting Luka off reaching out to her again. Besides, she was right that Chiara was taking on too much, even with the help of the other Ascendants who joined her in the library.
But Chiara pushed that guilt deep, deep down into a festering pit deep inside of her. The urgency of the situation demanded that she keep going, that she not stop until everyone was safe.
The girl sat in front of a far-too-harsh light, body stiff and weighed by exhaustion. Her eyes slid over the words printed on the page, her brain lacking the energy to take them in properly.
It wasn’t until she reached halfway down the page that she realised she hadn’t absorbed any of what she had just read, and this on the third reading of that same page.
She sighed, placing her elbows on the table and hands over her closed, stinging eyes. Her curtain of hair fell in front of her, covering her even more from the world outside. She felt hot tears of frustration falling from her eyes, chest rising rapidly with quiet sobs.
She didn’t want anyone to see this, but she couldn’t stop herself. She was too drained, it was too much for her. Days of reading book after book and finding very little that would actually be of use. Overwhelmed by the pressure she’d put on herself but simultaneously knowing she wasn’t doing enough.
She couldn’t give any more.
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Sept 25, 2021 0:21:37 GMT -5
When Lucien had grabbed her arm, Luka had stopped, the pressure drawing her attention, eyes falling to his hands, before raising back to look at him. Eye contact was important, after all, she drew a smile onto her face, sincere and kind, placing her hand over his and nodding.
"I will, and I'm gonna get them back," She assured, backing up when he let her go and turning, pushing through the doors.
Her feet dancing over the tile under her, she could see her shadow in the pristine white. When the door closed, the smile fell, looking down the hall as she thought to herself.
Humming a song under her breath, she made her way to prepare her group. Leaving behind her best friend in that room, cascades of footprints being all that were left behind.
---
It was dawn, and Luka stood outside of the Pantheon, in that mystical meadow outside. The moon had fallen, but standing in the rising light, she held a sword in her left hand, staring at the brightening sky.
A strange giddiness had settled in her bones. She hadn't slept well. The past days had been filled with training, filling everyone in on their roles. Mapping out the Exile base.
When night fell, they'd leave on their mission. All of their training and hard work would finally come to fruition. This time, she was determined not to fail. Whether rain or sky fall, she didn't plan to return without the others.
Staring at the slowly rising sun, she blinked the tiredness from her eyes, relishing in the feeling of the gentle-breeze, biting against her skin. "Today's the day," she commented, softly speaking to her guide as she stared distantly. Trying to imagine how the mission would go.
They had everything figured out, right? Chiara would alert them of any danger. Theodore would get them out of said danger with his persuasion. Lane would get them in and out of there fast, act as a scout. Ariella was strength if they needed it. And she, Luka, was going to lead them. She'd sneak them in and out, play the distraction if danger arose. Loki may be a trickster, but he was also a strategist. Luka had made plans upon plans, but even she knew plans never went through.
No matter what, she had to be ready. For Chiara, Ariella, Theo, Lane, and for everyone else. For Lucien. For River. For Laurie.
Failure wasn't an option.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Oct 5, 2021 18:03:01 GMT -5
SLIGHT FLASHBACK PANTHEON ARCHIVES FOLDER: LCNFRX_APOLLO FILE: LF_AP_103120.MP4 … TRANSCRIPT ACCESSED
SYSTEM: Voice recognition activated. Please state your access code.
FAIRFAX: LF482.
SYSTEM: Welcome, Lucien Fairfax. Please state your request.
FAIRFAX: Locking down all Pantheon systems for the night. System confirm Pantheon secure.
SYSTEM: Confirmed. All systems secure.
FAIRFAX: Can you run that check again?
SYSTEM: All systems secure.
FAIRFAX: Thank you.
SYSTEM: I am detecting elevated heart rate and other symptoms consistent with a state of heightened anxiety.
FAIRFAX: I’m fine.
SYSTEM: In that case, I have begun a recording in order to fine-tune the software so it is more accurate in future.
FAIRFAX: No, I- Ugh, stupid machine.
SYSTEM: Do you mean to say that you are in fact experiencing a state of heightened anxiety?
FAIRFAX: YES! For gods’ sake. Have to make me say it.
SYSTEM: Do you know what is causing this anxiety response?
FAIRFAX: Aside from you hounding me about it?
SYSTEM: Yes
FAIRFAX: I think I might have a vague freaking idea, yes.
FAIRFAX: The others are gone. They’ve been kidnapped. And since then everything’s gone to shit and I don’t know what to do.
FAIRFAX: I feel guilty for even talking about how I’m feeling, when everyone else has it so much worse right now. I’m just really scared. Mainly about the massive responsibility I have, the fact that I have other people’s lives in my hands. I don’t think I’m the right person for that, and obviously neither does Cleo.
SYSTEM: Mx Lester has expressed something to that effect a total of 27 times so far in the recordings in their file.
FAIRFAX: Thank you for that. Anyway, it’s not just that though. I don’t think I ever realised how serious this was until now. Like sure, it hit me a little when I got injured by that exiled girl, but this has never felt like a life-or-death thing. I’ve always been able to fix whatever’s wrong. I guess I’m just realising that these people are really going to try to kill me if I give them the chance. That terrifies me. It just feels like things are coming that I won’t be able to fix.
SYSTEM: Your role as stated in your records is not to fix things. Your role is leader.
FAIRFAX: No, I know that. That…say that again?
SYSTEM: Your role is not to fix things. Your role is leader.
FAIRFAX:
SYSTEM: Lucien?
FAIRFAX: Yeah, I’m here. That, uh… you’re right.
SYSTEM: It would not be possible for me to be wrong.
FAIRFAX: I just don’t know how to be a leader. I don’t know how to do any of this. I looked up to River but I think he’s just as scared and lost as I am, and we’ve been treating him as if we could just put everything on him. So now I have no idea what to do. The other leaders seem so confident all the time, or they did until today.
SYSTEM: I’m sorry, I don’t understand
FAIRFAX: No, it’s okay. I don’t either.
FAIRFAX: This is pointless, anyway. If I wanted random advice I’d just buy fortune cookies. End recording.
——— END OF TRANSCRIPT ———
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Oct 12, 2021 17:57:40 GMT -5
Chiara had thought that festering pit of guilt from her argument with Luka would simply pass. If she avoided Luka for long enough, spent long enough in the library and focussing on the guilt she felt for the others going missing, it would simply pass.
Unfortunately, such a thing would never be possible, because Chiara had been assigned to a mission. A mission led by Luka.
A mission that had finally arrived.
The morning of the day of the mission had come. There would be much to do before they could leave, much preparation. Nobody was willing to take any risks anymore these days, and Chiara least of all.
The young woman had started that day quietly and sombrely, without so much as a word to her guide. She really went through the motions more than anything. Got up, showered. Got dressed in something befitting the mission. Comfortable for easy movement, dark to blend into the shadows, sturdy to take damage and provide warmth. Good boots, laces in the same careful neat double-knot because she was incredibly paranoid about them becoming untied. Hair tied back into a ponytail like always, but more secure than usual and tied as tight as she dared without risking a headache. A spare hair tie on her wrist because she just knew either her ponytail would come undone or one of the others would end up needing one. A belt at her waist to which she could attach the scabbard with her sword.
She was going to be there for her enhanced senses, to help with stealth. Listen for distant footsteps, that kind of thing. But most importantly she would be there for her danger sense, so she could warn the others while they still had time.
Yet as her reflection in the mirror stated back at herself, looking far older than the 19 she’d only recently turned, she felt a wave of dread. And she wasn’t sure whether it was her danger sense bristling or simply her own fear that was causing it.
Chiara didn’t know anything anymore, that was the scary part. Knowledge was what she relied on. She liked her routines, didn’t cope well with uncertainty. Yet ever since she’d been chosen by Heimdallr she hadn’t been certain of anything, and she’d been constantly a little afraid from that moment on.
She couldn’t let go yet, embrace the chaos like Luka seemed to be able to do.
The girl caught the clock in the reflection of the mirror, and with a jolt realised that if she wanted to get some training time in before going to get breakfast and help with the prep she’d have to leave right that moment.
She tore away the glue-like anxiety that seemed to be rooting her feet to the spot, and stepped toward to door. Chiara then took a deep and shaky breath before stepping out into the hallways of the Norse Quarters.
|
|
|
Post by Nariku The Avaricious on Oct 14, 2021 14:04:33 GMT -5
After Theo’s previous recon mission with Luka (the one where they acquired the missing guys’ keys and met a Phantom of the Opera wannabe), he was hoping that was enough. He did his part, and everyone else could handle whatever else needed to be done. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, as he was soon approached by Luka again, saying he was chosen for another mission. A scouting one, where they were going to check out the supposed Exiled base, they needed his powers for it.
He regretted ever telling Luka about his powers. The young man really didn’t want to go, especially since his last mission proved to not be as “conflict free” as he was expecting.
When it was getting closer to their departure time, Theo instead chose to hang out in the dining area, holding a mug of freshly prepared hot chocolate. It was going to be chilly out, and despite him being pretty well dressed for the weather, he just wanted something warm before he left that wasn’t coffee.
As he sat in the silence, Theo couldn’t help but wonder when the mood would lighten up again. Ever since the kidnapping- no, ever since their loss at the hands of the exiled, and Laurie and River’s breakup, the pantheon had never felt the same. Instead, it only seemed to be getting more tense and gloomy. The other kids going missing just made it worse. Small moments of lightness didn’t deter the overall sense of dread he felt. Was only a matter of time before something snapped, and he really didn’t want to be caught in the middle when that happened.
Resting his head on his hand, the young man peered over to the side of the table, noticing a stray piece of paper resting on the edge. He let out a scowl, annoyed that someone really left a piece of garbage lying around.
“Bet it’s Lane’s,” Theo sighed, taking another sip of his hot-chocolate. She’s usually in such a hurry all the time, it’s not uncommon to find her forgotten trash around. Honestly, she needed to be more thoughtful of that stuff sometimes. Guess he had to be the one to clean up her mess.
He reached over to grab the paper, but as he reached over, his sleeve got caught on the handle of the mug. As it was dragged, the cup tipped slightly, almost ready to fall over. Instinctively, Theo snatched his arm away from the puddle of heated chocolate, and tried to get up to move away from the mess he’d created. However, his foot got caught on the leg of the chair, and he ended up falling backward onto the ground with the chair.
For a moment he lay in his shame on the floor, wishing he could die that moment. The only thing that got him to sit back up was the growing shame and anxiety. He didn’t want people to know about what had happened.
As he got back onto his feet, he took another glance at the table, seeing how the paper was completely drenched. He had a deep look of disgust just staring at it, especially with its current condition, but he managed to notice something about it that he didn’t notice before. There was writing on it, and even if most of it was smudged at this point, some of it was readable.
Pinching one of the dry corners between his fingers, Theo lifted it from the puddle and sat it down away from the mess he accidentally made. Squinting his eyes, he attempted to read what the paper said. “To- … .. Underworld, Hermes… Traveling? I’m sorry I left… Lane.” Theo took a moment to try and piece it together, but most of the sentences were long gone at this point. He thought for a bit, still stuck on the part about her leaving, but it seemed to hit him what kind of letter it was.
She was gone, no wonder he hadn’t seen her all day. Even for the grim mood, it seemed unusually quiet, especially since hearing her run around the Pantheon was a daily occurrence. Hearing nothing from her was weird, especially since they were all supposed to go out on a mission together. She couldn’t have just left them like that.
He knew he didn’t know the full story, especially since the letter was completely ruined, but in some way, he didn’t want to know. How would someone explain just leaving like that in a way that made sense. He’d rather believe she wasn’t doing something stupid, but this was Lane he were talking about.
Theo let out a sigh, turning away from the letter and making his way over to where they were meeting. He felt somewhat numb, knowing their team of 5 would be down to 4. Something like that was never a good sign of things to come.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Oct 14, 2021 15:08:46 GMT -5
Lane now stood before the shimmering light of a portal. A backpack sat on her shoulders, a dagger at her hip, hair tied back as always from her face. Her eyes followed the rippling, swirling colours for a moment.
”Are you scared?” Hermes asked tentatively after a long moment of hesitant silence, obviously concerned that Lane was getting cold feet.
”Terrified.” she swallowed
”Don’t overthink it, okay? It’s as easy as walking through a door.”
Lane wanted with every fibre of her being to run. Every cell of her body was screaming that she should want to survive, not run to what would probably be her death. She pressed her lips together for a moment, trying to stop them trembling.
”You said my soul is dying. This will kill it more, yes? Draw it more to Hades?” she asked shakily
Another long pause as Hermes refused to reply, except by a heavy silence. Lane knew that meant ‘yes’, and she took a painful breath
”If you really want to go there, this is the only way. Your soul is already gone, little one. You’re clinging onto a life I gave you, one that isn’t really real. Your real life ended on that road. I know it’s hard to hear, Lane, but I can’t lie to you. This is a chance to make that life mean something, okay? You’re going to be alright. I’m a trickster, sweetie, everything is what I make it. I’m going to look out for you down there.”
Hermes’ surprisingly gentle words were comforting, despite the death sentence he’d essentially just given her. Lane nodded a sad and rueful smile, but nodded, staring still at the portal.
She’d do it.
”Okay, this isn’t going to be able to work like a usual portal. You’re going to need my help. Close your eyes… now when I tell you, step through.”
Lane obeyed the guide’s instructions, shutting her eyes. One hand gripped a strap of her backpack for stability, the other instinctively touching her necklace. As Hermes told her to step forward she did so. One slow, heavy step into weightlessness. But not the same weightless feeling as normal. It was emptier, colder. As if rushing through freezing mountain air.
But suddenly the air felt still and cloying instead, and she landed with a thud on hard, dry ground. Less graceful than her portal exits with Hermes usually were.
Lane stood in terrified, overwhelmed silence for a few moments. Eyes screwed shut as if opening them would make it real.
But finally, finally she had to. Her blue eyes flew open to drink in the sights of the realm of the dead.
________
Lane opened her eyes to a landscape much similar to the one she’d experienced in her dream with Hermes and Hades, but much more vivid. The whole landscape seemed to be lit with a strange green glow, and the air felt uncomfortably still and heavy.
Tall, shadowy trees stood around her. They were silent, no air to rustle their leaves. Imposing, their branches stretching to impossible dark heights. A starry sky was visible through the thick canopy, filled with stars, constellations Lane didn’t recognise.
She reached down to her necklace in the dim light, turning her gaze down to it. Just in time to see one of the beads turning from the greenish colour it had been to a pearly white. Another beside it was already paling. She’d expected it, known it was going to happen, but seeing it finally happen made it feel real. Hermes hadn’t been lying or messing with her. This wasn’t a joke.
And she’d walked right into the belly of the beast. For what? Because she felt like it was somehow her duty? Because she’d fallen in love?
Because she felt like she lost everyone she loved, and she wanted desperately to stop it happening again?
”Alright,” she murmured quietly, releasing the necklace from between her fingers ”I’m here. Now what?”
She might as well make it worth it; she’d already taken the risk, made the sacrifice.
If she was going to die for this, she would make sure the gods themselves would remember her name. If Hades wanted her soul, she wouldn’t let him take it and just disappear quietly into this realm. The gods themselves had kept her alive, and she’d do everything in her power to make sure the gods themselves would have to be the ones to kill her.
”Now you look for your answers. You’re going to have to find the River Styx and cross it. Once you cross, I can’t help you; the harder it is for my uncle to detect my presence in his realm, the safer you’ll be.”
Lane didn’t have the first thought where she’d have to go once she crossed the Styx. But she would have to take it one step at a time. If she could find even the slightest helpful answer down there, it might just be worth it.
The woman’s eyes flicked down to the mossy ground, where she found the same lightly defined pathway she’d seen in her dream. Her instincts, much like they had before, told her to follow it. With any luck her instincts would guide her the same way throughout her time in the Underworld.
She stepped forward on the spongy, mossy ground, following the pathway before her. As she went, she brushed ferns away from her, walking under the foreign-looking sky above her. Bathed in that strange greenish glow.
After a while of walking, the path broadened and the forest became less thick. Finally she emerged onto a shallow, rolling grassy bank. Before her were still, glassy waters reflecting the starry and moonless sky.
Something told her those waters were the Styx.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Oct 19, 2021 18:24:00 GMT -5
SLIGHT FLASHBACK A few nights after the kidnapping, Lucien had made the mistake of stepping into the library. Foolish of him to think it would be unoccupied.
There, silhouetted against the light of the lamp in front of her, was Chiara. She faced away from him, surrounded by books scattered across the long table. Clearly it had been being used for shared study, as some of the chairs were pulled out haphazardly and some of the books seemed concentrated in front of some of the seats. Perhaps the others had stepped out for a moment or been summoned for something.
She set in front of a book but didn’t seem to be reading it. She seemed tense in the shoulders, hands in her hair and elbows planted on the table. He felt like he’d stepped into a private moment of emotion and stress that he probably shouldn’t have seen, but it was too late for him to leave without her noticing now.
The girl jumped a little at the sound of the door shutting behind Lucien, immediately sitting up straighter, rolling her shoulders back and twisting slightly in her seat to see who the intruder was.
As soon as her eyes settled on him, something Lucien couldn’t read fell across her gaze. It didn’t seem like distrust, per se, but she was perhaps a little guarded. There was a wall she seemed to put up. It made sense; the two of them rarely conversed, being that they seemed about as far from being alike as Lucien could possibly imagine. They were strangers, really.
“Oh,” she said, a little flatly but with enough speed to suggest to Lucien that she was a little flustered, perhaps embarrassed to be seen struggling and stressed, “hi.”
“Hi,” Lucien answered a little hesitantly, before stepping backwards and gesturing toward the door “I can…y’know, if you want.”
He didn’t want to stay if it would make her uncomfortable, and frankly he didn’t think he was comfortable with it either. He wasn’t really good at talking, especially when it came to sharing personal things like emotions. He didn’t think Chiara was either, and he figured it would be less awkward for them both if he just left.
But Chiara seemed intent on putting them both in an excruciating situation, because she shook her head and gestured to a seat.
“Don’t be stupid,” she murmured as she turned back around to face away from him again.
Since he did in fact not want to ‘be stupid’, Lucien (against his better judgement) took the seat Chiara indicated, opposite the girl. Thus began a few moments of frankly disgustingly painful silence in which Chiara seemed to go back to her book, before she spoke up, not moving her eyes up from the pages.
“What are you doing in here, then?” she asked
Lucien sat back, raising an eyebrow in apparent displeasure.
“You’re aware I’m also literate, yes?” he asked “I’m here to read, like what you do in a library.”
“Comforting as it is to know your qualifications to be in this room, you know that isn’t what I meant.” Chiara replied without missing a beat
He could see why Luka liked spending time with her so much. Chiara seemed to quite enjoy sarcasm or witty exchanges. Well, as much as Chiara seemed to enjoy anything.
“Cleo gave me a list of some books and articles it might be helpful to look at, so I thought I’d make myself useful.” explained the boy, “You?”
In answer, Chiara simply gestured to the piles of books surrounding her. It was obvious that she, too, was researching in order to help get the others back. Wordlessly, she pushed a book towards Lucien, who took it dutifully. He didn’t really want to be there, doing this, but he knew he had to do whatever it took to help the others.
He began to read, and again a conspicuous silence grew between them, though certainly a little more comfortable than before. But eventually a thought entered Lucien’s head and no matter how much he tried to patiently let it pass, it wouldn’t leave. It had to be expressed.
“Chiara?” he suddenly asked, unable to stop the words tumbling out of him “Do you think the Fates are real?”
Chiara paused, looking up at him and narrowing her eyes as in thought
“How do you mean?” she questioned, and he could tell he’d piqued her curiosity. She looked at him in that disconcerting way she sometimes did as if she could see through him. It was like she was a therapist who thought they’d struck gold.
“Well, like…” he began, pausing with a light sigh as he seemed to begin to speak, debate whether or not to continue, before apparently deciding not to.
He couldn’t share this, could he? He didn’t really know her that well. He didn’t share stuff like this with anyone, not even people he trusted.
But then, this feeling had been building up inside him ever since that meeting where Cleo had brought up his father. It needed to be shared and he didn’t know who else to go to. Luka didn’t feel like the right person to share this with right now; as a leader, she had an exceptional load on her shoulders and was dealing with enough of her own stuff as it was. River wasn’t exactly talking to people at that point, and even if he was there was no way Lucien was going to add more stress onto him either.
Maybe someone he didn’t know well was the best option. And Chiara seemed logical, smart. Most importantly, he didn’t think she was the kind of person who’d share his business with everyone else, given that she was quiet.
He had to just get over himself.
Sighing once again, he drummed his fingers nervously on the table for a moment before finally plucking up the courage to continue:
“Am I just destined to mess up every time I have something good in my life like my dad did?”
There was a part of him that was terrified of Harrison Fairfax. Terrified of becoming him. His father who was selfish. His father who was unable to deal with the responsibility of becoming a father. Lucien feared letting people in, because if he let people close he knew he’d disappoint them somehow. Either that or they’d let him down. He feared the responsibility of being leader, because if he was anything like his father he’d ruin everything and hurt everyone around him. Sure, he always said he wanted to be taken seriously as a leader, but there was a part of him that was petrified of it.
It was clear to him he’d already been unable to handle the responsibility of being a leader, and the friendship he’d had with River was at the very least set back, if not completely destroyed and in need of rebuilding. He was afraid that if he continued on, he’d wreck everything with his friends and in his role as leader.
“You’re not like your father, Lucien, surely you can see that,” Chiara started, stating this as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.
When Lucien gave her a slightly confused look, Chiara rolled her eyes slightly, as if annoyed that she was going to have to spell it out for him.
“You care. If you didn’t you’d never have asked me this, and you definitely wouldn’t be sitting in here reading that.” she continued with a gesture to his book “You’re afraid of losing your friends and making your father’s mistakes; that’s why you never will.”
He supposed she had a point, but he didn’t know how to feel about it. Would his father and his mistakes really hang over him like that for the rest of his life?
“Besides,” the champion of Heimdallr added “it’s not about fate, it’s about how you react to it. You’ve messed up, but you’re taking responsibility and working hard to put things right. Not even Cleo can deny that that’s a good leader quality.”
“Thanks,” Lucien replied with grateful surprise that she’d even bothered answering
By that point Chiara had already turned back to her book, clearly unperturbed by the sudden admission Lucien had made. It was almost comforting to him to see that what he’d said wasn’t such a big deal.
“You’re welcome. Now be quiet or get out so I can read.” came her distracted answer as she turned a page.
Lucien, surprisingly put at ease, smiled lightly to himself before turning his attention back to the book, trying to make sense of the pages and pages of black and white before him.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Oct 24, 2021 18:41:29 GMT -5
FLASHBACK ”I don’t believe in trusting people.” Chiara remembered telling Heimdallr on the first night in the Pantheon ”And I certainly don’t believe you really think I’m supposed to put my life in the hands of these strangers.”
She hadn’t been overly impressed with the group she’d met on that first night. Most of them, anyway. She didn’t know them, not enough for what the gods seemed to be asking of them. Which was what, exactly? Saving the world? That sounded like bullshit already, and Chiara had heard her fair share in her life.
The girl has then felt a strange feeling in the part of her mind in which Heimdallr seemed to lurk. It was like somehow she knew, like she could feel, that he was giving a knowing smile. The kind of knowing smile that was utterly infuriating.
“You’ll see,” was all the god had said
________
Chiara sat quietly in a chair in a lounge area of the Pantheon, hair falling loose. She wore a comfortable jumper for once, tucked into a skirt over some tights. A book was, as always, in her hands, her legs tucked up neatly on the chair.
Dull sounds came from the TV set nearby, the light flickering and illuminating the room; the only light source apart from the lamp Chiara had turned on to read by. She wasn’t watching the movie; some of the others had decided on a film night. But it provided some comforting background sounds, a kind of pleasant white noise.
A loud gunshot came from the TV set, causing the noise-sensitive Chiara to jump, almost tearing the page of the book she was holding. As she did so, her eyes automatically flicked up to the screen, before moving to take in the scene around her.
Sitting on the sofa were Theo, Lucien, Ariella and Griffin. Theo was stretched out as far as he could without the others not having enough room, having bounced onto the sofa about five minutes before to the chorus of the others yelling that the film was starting. Ariella and Griffin were sharing a blanket, and occasionally there’d be some kind of scuffle where one felt the other had more blanket than they did. They’d almost knocked the popcorn out of Lucien’s hands the last time they’d done that, but that was an accident and generally it was resolved without any collateral damage.
Lucien had for once traded his leather jacket, this time wearing an unzipped black hoodie over a white shirt. He was eating from a bowl of popcorn he’d been sharing with the other three, and occasionally he’d flick a piece of popcorn at the back of Luka’s head. Whenever she looked round he always promptly pretended he hadn’t done anything, but he made no effort to pass the popcorn bowl onto someone else so she clearly knew it was him. Chiara knew it was only a matter of time before she made her counter-attack.
Sitting on the floor in front of the sofa and wrapped up in their own blankets were Luka, River and Laurie. Originally they’d all been sharing one blanket but Luka has muttered something about River and Laurie being ‘disgustingly in love’ before stealing Lucien’s blanket from him, much to his chagrin. Indeed, Laurie and River were huddled up under a blanket together, leaning with their backs against the sofa. River’s arm was around Laurie’s shoulder, their heads touching. The two of them had been inseparable since they’d returned from the camping trip. River was by now past the point where he tried to pretend he wasn’t falling for Laurie, and Laurie had never made any attempt at pretences.
River whispered something in Laurie’s ear, and Laurie smiled that big genuine smile, the kind that only River seemed able to draw out of him. The kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. He whispered something in return, and Chiara could saw River blush slightly.
Meanwhile Luka had succeeded in catching one of the pieces of popcorn Lucien had launched at her, and threw it back at him only for it to bounce off Lucien’s shoulder and land in the hair of a displeased Theo.
And for the first time, Chiara felt that maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Oct 30, 2021 18:27:24 GMT -5
FLASH FORWARD - NOT NECESSARILY CANON Laurie didn’t know what he was doing, sitting talking to the Pantheon computer like this. It was stupid, it was ill-advised. What if one of the others found the recording? What if they listened to it and hated what they heard? Or worse, what if they pitied him?
But after he’d shared with Cleo, it was like he’d unlocked something. A wave of words and feelings and mess that he needed to let out, but that he didn’t think the others were ready for. This was too much. It was too much even for him, he couldn’t put more on their shoulders than they had already.
But the computer? That could store things for him, hold them tight. Like an extension of his brain. He could lock all of these thoughts and feelings there until he had enough space in his head to deal with them. So he could try and process and understand everything that had happened to him.
So he reached out from his seat, pressing the button on the computer’s interface that activated its voice recognition.
”Voice recognition activated. Please state your access code.” came the computer’s neutral, flat tone.
”LB0507” came Laurie’s steady reply as he returned his hands back to his lap, swallowing.
His mouth was suddenly dry, he could feel the nervous energy building up in him already. He couldn’t even look into the camera and it wasn’t even like eye-contact with a real person.
”Welcome, Laurent Bevin. Please state your request.”
Laurie’s response was a little too quick, his voice uneven.
”Start a recording, please.” answered the young man
It wasn’t like Dionysus was talking to him at that point. Not yet. He needed someone to talk to. Someone who wouldn’t judge him or look at him like a wounded animal. Or try to claim they understood when they actually didn’t. Or scorn him, or most terrible or all, try to apologise for what he went through as if it were their fault.
The computer didn’t respond, but a flashing red light gave him all the answer he needed.
”It’s my ‘trial’ tomorrow, in front of the leaders.” Laurie began ”To determine if I should be allowed to stay or whether I should be exiled.”
It was fair. Laurie had accepted that trial without so much as a murmur. No protest. No fight. Because yeah, he was slowly - very slowly - starting to realise that what Ripley had done to him wasn’t Laurie’s fault, but Ripley’s and Ripley’s alone. But the things he’d done? That lay with him.
He’d caused pain and trauma to his friends and he’d have to answer for that. That was just. And he wasn’t afraid of it; Cleo had promised him a fair trial, and he had faith that he would get just that.
But he felt conflicted.
”I don’t know which outcome scares me more,” he admitted ”the idea of being rejected by the people who used to trust me, or staying and seeing them every day and having to live with myself for what I did to them.”
He signed, leaning back. It was pointless, anyway. The result was out of his hands. He would make his case and then it was for the leaders to decide.
”Ripley made sure I knew this would happen. That if I were to return I’d have to face what I did to my friends. That if I tried to escape and come back they’d be so disgusted by me they’d never take me back. I don’t know, maybe he was right. He was right about a lot of things, actually. I believe in credit where credit’s due.”
Laurie shook his head, looking down as he clasped and unclamped his hands. That was how Ripley had gotten into his head. With truth. Little pieces of truth mixed in so finely with the lies that it became impossible to sift them out. Ripley was smart, and a lot of the time he was right. He just had a talent for making the truth hurt in a way nobody else could. He could make it grow barbs, that stuck in you and festered until you could stand it no longer.
”The worst part about the whole thing is that I wasn’t blind to it, you know?” Laurie asked, voice cracking as he looked up to the camera for the first time since he’d started the recording ”I wasn’t blind because I knew, I knew what it was supposed to feel like.”
Love, he meant.
What he’d had with Ripley wasn’t love. What he had with Ripley was ‘you’re mine’, it was ‘at least try to kiss me like you mean it’, it was ‘if you’re lying to me I’ll kill you’. It was a fake, cold, painful thing, a charade.
It was ‘little lamb’.
River had been so different. What he had with River had been soft kisses, gentle touch. What he had with River had been gentle, peaceful silence and just listening to his heartbeat and his breathing. What he had with River had made the world feel brighter. What he had with River was wanting to tell him first any time anything exciting happened. What he had with River had been safety and trust.
It was ‘Lumiere’.
”But I didn’t know what to do. He made me need him. The vulnerability, the pain-“ Laurie paused, inhaling a shaky breath as his eyes dropped once again
Ripley had made him weak before he’d truly trapped him. Like a wolf going for the old and the lame, the stragglers. He’d drained him of everything, poisoned him with lies. Exploited the pain and fear, fed it with deceit.
”I watched myself and I could see what was happening but I couldn’t stop it and then it was too late. I know that probably sounds like I’m trying to come up with a lame excuse, but it’s true.”
Laurie had been falling, and Ripley had been somewhere to land. At first, he’d made Laurie feel trusted and valued, then even loved. It wasn’t until he was sure he had Laurie where he wanted him that he went in for the kill.
The man had to blink away the burning tears at his eyes, feeling his breath hitching in his throat. It was like his body didn’t even want him to be talking about all of this, as if it was trying to stop him from getting the words out.
”I did such awful things. To people who trusted me. God, some of whom had only just learned to start to trust. I don’t know what to do with that guilt. I guess lay it bare tomorrow before it destroys me.”
The only cure for the pain he was feeling was to let it out. Either way, the trial the next day would cleanse him of the burden he’d been carrying. He could be thankful for that if nothing else.
”I’m truly sorry for all of it. With any luck by tomorrow I can figure out how to even begin to apologise for everything I did.” Laurie continued.
But his eyes flicked back towards that red light. He’d better end it. He had to try and prepare for the next day now that his head was a little more clear, his heart lighter (though in pain).
”Alright, that’s enough narcissistic self-pity for one night. End recording.”
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Oct 31, 2021 2:24:37 GMT -5
When Styx had first seen Pascal, she had been overcome by confusion. Like a strange familiarity, like she had somehow met him somewhere before. It was like deja vu, but it didn't go away. She just passed by his door, hiding from sight with her head ducked and moved on.
But she'd pass by, every so often, struck by his name, his face, his black hair, his dark eyes. Everything about him screamed at her in long forgotten emotions. Happiness, family, distrust, betrayal. She assumed he was just starkly similar to maybe her killer or whatever, but it didn't connect and she refused to investigate it.
She had better things to do anyways, then worry about some stupid kids Ripley and Atticus got. Honestly, what did they think would happen? The Ascendants would retaliate, and they outnumbered them severely. The Exiled had the advantage of having more experience under their belts. Still, it seemed overly risky. But not unexpected.
Styx just didn't like how unsettled Pascal made her. How just the sight of him reminded her of laughter and the aroma of coffee. How it left her feeling like she couldn't breath, like her heart had been torn to shreds, like betrayal.
That's how she happened upon the river of her namesake, her silver eyes flickering across the water as she walked on the higher banks. When she had to thing or plot, she'd go there. It was silent, except for the dead souls that passed, but even then it was silent. No one was ever in this part of the river anyways, it was more of a secluded spot, with a strange echo. Some dead trees framed the river, and as she looked down upon it, she spotted something amiss.
If she listened close enough, she could hear a heartbeat. A pulse, and the glowing of a living soul. Her curiosity got the best of her, and she stepped closer, pressing a hand against one of the rocks near her as she peaked down to the shore across the river.
There was a blue glow, breath, and a girl with blue hair. Someone Styx knew she recognized. The cheater of death.
Styx narrowed her eyes. Breath, indicative of life. Styx lacked the need for it, sometimes she could feel that lack, like a choking feeling pressed against her chest.
She hopped down from her perch, deciding to follow Lane from a distance or a short while. However, as Lane approached the shore, Styx stepped out of hiding, setting herself to Lane's side, a smile falling to her lips.
"Chosen of Hermes," She greeted, eyes a simple, dull grey, "Strange to see you here," she noted. She watched the silent bobbing of the waves, before turning her intent gaze to Lane, a coy smile on her lips, "Have you come to join your rightful place?"
The question was simple, almost deceivingly kind, if it were in another context. As it was, the question was more of a warning. Styx didn't particularly care why Lane was there, but the girl had foolishly walked into her domain. It was the perfect opportunity to tie up loose ends, should Styx have to.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Oct 31, 2021 15:38:13 GMT -5
Lane was immediately captivated by those waters. They seemed so still, so deep. It was like they held stars in them. Like if one dived in and swam deep enough you'd fall through the sky. Everything was so silent, almost unsettlingly so. Like all she could hear was her pulse at her neck and the rushing of her breath filling her lungs.
She tilted her head, stepping closer to the edge of the river, kneeling down. Part of her wanted to reach out, put her hands in the water. See if it felt cool or not. See if she'd feel anything at all. But she didn't know what would happen if she did. It seemed like too much of a risk; what if it drew her further into this world?
After a long moment of staring at the waters, she became aware of a presence at her side. Turning her head slightly and returning her arms to her side, she rose to her feet just as Styx stepped up next to her.
"Something like that," Lane replied calmly as she turned her gaze back to the river, not making eye contact with Styx. It was as if she was greeting an old friend.
She was afraid, she was afraid of everything about being down there. But Styx wasn't as scary as the decision Lane had just made to come to the Underworld. Styx also wasn't as scary as the knowledge that so many of her friends were at risk, having been captured by the Exiled.
At the very least, if Lane didn't succeed in finding answers down there, she could keep Styx occupied for a while. One less person for the others to have to deal with on their mission. If nothing else, there was that. It could balance out the disadvantage they were put in by her not being there.
"I hear you have my friends." were Lane's next words, a bite to them that hadn't been there before.
She couldn't keep the same calm she'd had before at the thought of Echo, Pascal, Naida, Laurie. Daniel. Who knew if they were even still alive?
Well, she supposed Styx could give that answer. If they were dead, Styx would take great pleasure in letting her know. Well, that was what Lane assumed. Styx didn't seem the type to hold that particular card close to her chest if it would bring her more immediate pleasure to tell her.
"Not the brightest move you guys have ever made, but then I suppose you never have been winning any awards for subtlety." she commented with a raised eyebrow
The exiled didn't do things half-heartedly. And they certainly liked to make their presence known. Sure, it was likely a trap to draw the Ascendants in. But they hadn't reckoned with two things; one, the powers of the people they were holding. Two; Lane had nothing to lose.
She could walk into that trap without hesitation. In fact, she already had.
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Oct 31, 2021 16:10:02 GMT -5
Styx glanced at Lane, raising her eyebrows at the girl by the water. She didn't seem scared, but her heartbeat was still anxiously thrumming. The glowing blue from her breath was indicative of it. Alive, in a place of death. Lane was the color in something bleached of color. Color was significant of life, of beauty. Everything was dull here, but that was to be expected, was it not?
That's why the breath was so noticeable. Some of Ancient Greece believed breathe was indicative of the soul. That the halting of breath was the freeing of the soul from the body. It was so full of color, of life, the idea of breathing. Lane's pulse was noticeable to, standing out in the silence.
As Lane said her piece about her friends, Styx chuckled slightly. A chilling, but soft sound. "Oh yes, do you miss them?" She taunted slightly, but made no move to attack.
Instead she stared ahead at the waters, peaceful, almost content to just stand there, conversing. "And yet, while not smart, we are still the winning side, are we not?"
Styx didn't particularly care about her side. The Exiled weren't anymore her family than the dead, but she wanted to be on whatever side was winning. Regardless of who that was. She also wanted to keep the balance as it should be.
Who could blame her? Disruptions in the balance of life could be so...messy.
"You have Atticus and Ripley to thank for your friends." She then added, arms crossed over her chest, watching the smooth waves, "I wasn't there when they took them, but I can assure you that you're friends have been...relatively unharmed."
Looking at the river, then at Lane, she raised an eyebrow. "You've never been here before," she noted, before offering her hand to the blue-haired girl, "You need a guide, do you not?"
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Oct 31, 2021 16:43:38 GMT -5
Lane couldn’t help but chuckle lightly when Styx referred to the exiled at the winning side. She’d never even thought about it before that moment, she realised. Had been so caught up in the fight it had never occurred to her that they weren’t winning.
“Probably, yes.” Lane responded
She had a kinship with Styx, she knew that. They both had their connections with death, and though Lane could see herself as Styx’s antithesis, she wouldn’t be that way for long. In all the Greek epic poems and mythological texts, the dead were shades, bleached of colour. Colour was life. The life Lane was desperately fighting for. The life that seemed to be gone from Styx. But once the beads turned white on Lane’s necklace, what would be the difference between them?
Styx’s words about Lane’s friends did get to her, her mouth tightening. That nervous energy that always seemed to fill her, that always made her want to move, seemed only to build up more.
She wasn’t sure she believed Styx about her not being involved, but then why should she? And in the end what did it matter? She didn’t trust Styx regardless, and for obvious and very good reasons.
When the other girl asked if she wanted a guide, Lane turned her head to look at Styx properly now. Her eyes flicked down to her extended hand before returning to meet her gaze.
“I have a guide,” Lane replied, tapping her temple “Psychopomp, remember?”
Who would be better to guide her than the god of travellers and of boundaries? The god of thieves? The god who guided souls to the underworld?
Granted, Hermes didn’t know everything about the Underworld, Lane felt fairly sure. But she didn’t need to say that to Styx. And she also knew that Hermes had said he couldn't guide her beyond the River Styx. But if Lane wanted to search for answers, did she really want Styx with her?
“Why would I want you?”
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Nov 1, 2021 0:00:31 GMT -5
Panicked breathes escaped Luka as she ran through the cemetery, the sky was dark and grey, threatening to storm. Behind her, she could hear the rumbling of thundering footsteps, she could feel them under her feet, shaking the ground.
She hurried forward, trying to escape, trying to get the flashes of the bloody puddles out of her mind. Her mind got the best of her, and she turned around. She needed to get back to Chiara, to get her out of there. In the frames of tombstones, she could see Chiara's unconscious form laying beside one. If Luka didn't act fast, they both may as well be 6-feet-under.
Chiara's arm was bleeding, and Luka worried that if she didn't act fast enough, she'd lose it. Actually, if she didn't do something soon, they'd both be dead. It wouldn't even matter about what wounds they had, arm or not.
Her eyes flickered up to the red ones, flickering like candles in the darkness, and Luka let off a shaky gasp of fear, stepping back. His fangs were the size of a child, and he boasted about snacking on Ascendants. His grumbly voice was off-putting, and there was blood dripping from his fangs.
She wanted to speak or scream, but she couldn't make a sound. As his inched closer, heavy paws falling on the ground, she stepped back more, pace quickening, no longer trained on Chiara's body. With a particularly vicious growl from the wolf, Luka stepped back to gain more distance, her foot catching on a rock that sent her tumbling back, the back of her head smacking into the corner of a tombstone.
Immediately, a feeling of cold dread and fear sunk in as her vision darkened, greying around the edges. Each tombstone around her changed in the blink of an eye, from gray slate to the body of a missing friend. Echo laid with a hand outstretched to Luka, panicked eyes wide and frozen. Naida had her own closed, still as could be. Daniel and Pascal were further back, obscured by giant paws and rumbling laughter. Laurie was closest, a tombstone near her flickering into the body of the dark-haired boy. The black sheep laying peacefully, as if slumbering.
Darkening vision turning upwards, Luka caught sight up more figure hiding in the mist. Their unknown features couldn't be made out, but their grins could, heavy and broad on their faces.
The last thing she saw before blacking out was the raising of Fenrir's paw, and an everlasting darkness.
----------
Snapping awake, Luka practically jumped off her bed. A tangle of blankets following her, wrapped in her limbs, and a cold sheen of sweat layered her brow. She ran for her closest weapon once she got her foot, not even realizing her surroundings, before lifting the knife setting nearby and turning towards her bed, panicked eyes flashing with danger. However, when she turned, she just spotted her messy, thrown around blankets, and her hands began to shake.
Nothing was there. It was all a dream, and she was in her room.
As her shaking increased, she dropped the knife, stepping back further as she replayed it all. It made sense, why she didn't see details, why it felt like it was all from someone else's view. But the panic didn't leave.
She wondered if she hit her head in her struggled in the nightmare on her bedrest, a small ache was there, but it was the least of her problems.
Shaking hands flying up to pull her hair back into a ponytail, wincing slightly as she remembered her dream. Falling back, hitting that tombstone. She pulled on new clothes, tugging on a jacket and lifting up the discarded knife with her still shaky hands. Glancing at her reflection in the metal blade, she blinked back her fear. She had to be brave, for everyone else.
Flicking the knife into it's safer form, she pocketed the pocket knife, turning and exiting her room to begin her day.
That night, they'd be travelling into the enemy territory.
She could only hope her dream was wrong on the state of her friends.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 1, 2021 5:10:30 GMT -5
Chiara had indeed succeeded at getting some training time in, training time she sorely needed. She'd been neglecting it a little in favour of researching in the library these last weeks. But she felt much better for having gone to the training rooms that morning, gotten some of the nervous energy out. Nothing too strenuous; she didn't want to be tired and aching by the time they left for the mission that night.
The sense of foreboding she had did not leave her, and she was struggling more and more to ignore it. It was feeling more and more like her danger sense than just her own anxiety. Either something bad was happening (which it was), or it was going to. Or the incredibly fun secret third option; both.
Following her training session, she'd headed towards the room where they'd all agreed to meet prior to their mission. This was the first time she'd been on a mission since, well... the last time.
The blonde stopped outside of the door, pausing for a moment to lean against the wall beside it and get her breath before she went in. She was gulping the air in, really, as if her very life depended on it. Well, more than one's life normally depended on breathing, anyway.
She looked down at her upper arm, the ring of scar tissue. The silvery tissue, the dips where Fenrir's teeth had sunk into her skin. The twists where the mangled flesh had struggled to heal.
She remembered very little of that fight anymore, though her dreams seemed to remember more than her waking hours. Still, she could smell the sickening scent of Fenrir's hot breath, mingling with the irony tangy smell of her own blood. Luka had saved her life that night, that was what Chiara knew most about the events of that night. They'd both saved one another's lives, but Luka had single-handedly gotten Chiara back to the Pantheon. She could only imagine how it must have felt for Luka to suddenly realise she was on her own.
That fight, they hadn't had any control at all. It had been such a frightening, panicked mess. That had been the most terrifying thing about it. The knowledge that they didn't have the slightest clue what they were doing, that they had to trust their lives to instinct and fate.
She never wanted that to happen again.
She tried to slow her panicked breathing, squeezing her eyes shut and taking some deeper, slower breaths.
All she wanted was for it to stop for just one moment. The noise and the light. That cold feeling of dread from her danger-detection powers that would make the hairs on her skin stand on end. She wanted the books to stop, and the blood, and the endless fear.
But it couldn't stop, not yet. The others needed them. She could hope and pray that this mission would be the end of it, that they could get the others back that very night, but part of her knew it wouldn't be so. Still, it was worth trying.
With one last deep, shaky breath, Chiara collected herself. She straightened up, looking up at the ceiling as she exhaled once again, smoothing out her clothes. And she stepped forward from the wall, turning back towards the door and pulling it open, settling her face into a neutral expression and stepping inside.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 1, 2021 8:09:57 GMT -5
The day had arrived.
Lucien hated that he couldn't go with them, but he understood Cleo's reasoning. It made sense not to put your only healer at that kind of risk, especially with Pascal gone and his medical knowledge gone with him. Besides, he supposed he did kind of deserve a break, having been on the last two missions and come out of the last one a little worse for wear, to put it lightly.
But right now, yeah, it made him feel a little useless.
He knew he wasn't; he was actually more useful staying behind than he was anywhere else. He could keep in contact with those on the mission, pass them along info alongside Cleo, keep an eye on those who were staying behind, and heal anyone who needed it upon their return.
It was good, Apollo had insisted in an attempt to cheer up his champion. Noble, even. Whatever that meant.
The boy was in the medical wing, laying out supplies he might need later. Even his healing powers couldn't do everything, after all. He had no medical knowledge, he'd simply be guessing, but he had Apollo in his head and that was better than nothing. Anyway, even when he could heal people, sometimes they still had pain, sometimes they needed more. Sometimes they had to be kept alive while he dealt with other urgent cases first.
So he stood, surrounded by clinical white and silver, laying out disinfectant and gauze and soft rolls of white bandages. He moved across the room, making sure each bed was clean and made ready in case it needed to be used, pausing only briefly in front of the bed he himself had lain in after the last mission. Eyes fixed on it, rooted to it, for just a second before he tore them away and moved on.
It was hours until the mission, he didn't even need to be here yet. And here he was, fussing around and pacing like someone like Chiara would. This wasn't him, it wasn't him at all. But recent events had affected them all, the pressure was getting to them all, and there wasn't a right or wrong to how any of them were processing it. Not unless it was getting in the way of them getting the others back.
Unable to find himself another little job to do, Lucien sighed and perched on the end of one of the beds. Good; an excuse to make it again later, pass another thirty seconds.
He looked down, clasping his hands together. He was so frustrated with himself. He was meant to be making an effort as a leader but instead, he was letting his feelings of helplessness and anxiety overwhelm him. If any of the others came in and saw him like this it would hardly be making them feel like their leaders were reliable and strong. It would hardly make them feel safe.
Not that he exactly thought it was possible to really feel safe with everything that was happening.
Maybe he was failing everybody already. At least he was trying, but was there room for 'at least' anymore? There was only good enough and not good enough when people's lives were at stake.
He didn't know anymore, but he damn well knew he was going to do everything he could that night to help the others get their friends back. He was going to make it up to them, and to River.
There was too much at stake for it to go wrong.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 8, 2021 18:11:46 GMT -5
PANTHEON ARCHIVES FILES ACCESSED FILES LOADING ____ FILES LOADED
A shaky camera focused on a dark forested scene, shadowy trees thrown into blazing relief by the light of a campfire, around which a group of young people sat. Others could be seen in the background, gathering and talking in pairs and groups.
The camera was pointed mostly at one boy in particular, who was holding a marshmallow on a stick over the flames to toast it, but had seemingly forgotten about about it and was staring at god knows what in the distance while the marshmallow blackened and bubbled.
He seemed to notice the camera pointed at him though, or feel the gaze of the person holding it, because he turned to look at them.
”What?” Theo Cross asked in confusion ”What’re you smiling like that for?”
”Oh, no, I wanna see how long it is until you notice.” replied a voice with an unmistakable Australian accent.
The boy frowned, not looking satisfied with this.
”Luka,” he said with a warning tone “What did you this time?”
It was at that moment, though, that the marshmallow burst into flame, which seemed finally to catch Theo’s attention. He yelped in surprise, rising to his feet as he flung the stick into the fire. Thankfully he had the presence of mind not to drop it to the forest floor.
After that moment of initial panic, he turned to Luka.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Theo pouted “My marshmallow!”
Luka was already in a fit of laughter, and Theo soon joined her. Soon after, though, they were interrupted by another voice speaking up.
”Hey, look at Bevin and Gellis,” said a male voice, an arm stretching out across the screen (the wearer had forgone his usual leather jackets) to indicate a point a short distance from the group.
The camera followed where the boy pointed, zooming in on two figures by a starry lakeside. They were talking, but one could see the romance between them. In their closeness, in the way they seemed intent on one another.
Luka snorted softly at the sight, clearly amused by it, it also touched by the endearing scene.
“What do you think they’re saying?” she asked
Theo looked at the scene, tilting his head, and seemed in thought only for a moment before speaking up decidedly, observing as one of the figures pointed up at the stars.
”Let me tell you about the stars so I sound cultured and knowledgeable and then we can share angsty backstories and kiss and then pretend nothing happened even though this is in public and everyone saw it.” he said rapidly in a more than passable (if exaggerated) imitation of Laurie’s French accent
There was a chuckle from Luka, and a quiet ‘okay, that was pretty good’. One could almost hear the smile in her voice.
Lucien at that point, also decided to jump in.
”Nah, he’s for sure telling River about which constellations he thinks look like rude pictures. You’re assuming Laurie’s capable of holding a mature conversation.”
Luka laughed again, but was quick to chide him.
“Now, now,” Luka pointed out “his blood alcohol level is actually at a reasonable level tonight, he hasn’t had a single beer yet. His two brain cells might be close to functioning.”
And the three continued to laugh and tease by the fire, the camera occasionally scanning around the scene to zoom in on Guinevere painting people’s nails, the girl flashing a smile at the camera as she worked on Jason’s. Or Daniel, Lane and Eydan all talking together.
But if always drifted back over to the couple talking by the water, catching River’s flash of a smile, or Laurie just admiringly watching as River spoke about something that seemed important to him.
______
The camera flickered to life once again, this time taking in the image of a girl sitting on a library chair. She was intent on her book, feet tucked up alongside her as she focused on the pages.
But she was obviously aware enough to notice the camera, because she spoke without lifting her gaze from the pages.
“Luka, Theo, please get that camera out of my face, it’s bad enough trying to get any privacy around here without it.” grumbled the girl
Luka seemed undeterred, and began to speak like she was a presenter for a nature documentary.
“And here we have the wild Chiara, the least interesting of the Norse trio.” she began “As you can see, this particular specimen has mutated. What looks like a book is actually permanently attached to her body, and she is physically incapable of doing anything fun.”
Chiara rolled her eyes and stuck up her middle finger, presumably in an effort to prove Luka wrong. Luka gasped in mock surprise.
“It appears I was wrong!” exclaimed Luka “In which case, I wonder it…”
It was at this point that Luka lunged forward, grabbing the book from a furious Chiara’s hands and took off down the hall. Theo, now holding the camera, was on her heels. Both were laughing as Chiara took off in hot pursuit, her yells echoing in the Pantheon’s corridors and mingling with the pranksters’ ringing laughter.
“It’s for your own good!” Luka exclaimed over her shoulder “We’re getting you outside before you get rickets or something. Plus, this is hilarious.”
Chiara did not seem as amused, though she also didn’t sound angry. Nobody could ever be angry while the Pantheon was filled with that kind of joy.
_____
The next piece of footage was in the Pantheon’s laundry room, the camera zooming in on a young man with curly dark hair as he shoved clothes into the washing machine, undoubtedly overfilling it.
“Babe, why don’t you explain what you’re doing at the moment?” asked a male voice
Laurie seemed unfazed by the question, simply raising an eyebrow and gesturing to the machine as if it were perfectly logical and obvious.
“I’m putting my washing in the machine. Like normal. Are you okay, cheri?” was Laurie’s response
A short laugh from River followed.
“You’re putting reds in with your whites.” he explained softly
“I know,” hummed Laurie, as he joyfully placed a red sock into the machine
“You kn-?“ River began “babe, all your clothes are going to be pink.”
Laurie shrugged, apparently unbothered.
“Pink’s nice.” was his simple answer. His reasoning was unassailable, at least in his mind.
“I know, but-“ River began, only to be interrupted by his boyfriend.
“And all my stuff will match. This is nice, no? It’ll save me so much time choosing clothes”
Laurie, seemingly pleased with his apparently genius idea, closed the washing machine and was about to set it to start, causing River to spring into action to prevent Laurie looking like a stick of candy floss for the foreseeable future.
“Babe, no!”
|
|
Demisexual
Leo
Surviving off Thai tea and Miguel O'hara
|
Post by Leo on Nov 11, 2021 23:56:25 GMT -5
Everything was so much more somber since their friends were taken. Everyone was angry and scared and unsure of how to proceed with everything. They were suffering in their own minds and unable to find comfort in anyone else. They weren't working together anymore and it was hurting them.
Ariella wanted to help them so badly. She wanted to give each and everyone one of her friends comfort and the strength to ban together and get their friends back. She wished she could get River to talk to them again. She wished Chiara wouldn't kill herself reading trying to figure out how to help. She wished the last three leaders wouldn't be so secretive about what they were thinking, but after everything that happened it was probably for the best.
Tonight was the exception. Tonight they were going to go get them back. A small team, each with their own job in this mission.
Ariella hadn't gone on too many missions. She'd been on the sidelines for a while, letting the more experienced fighters -like River- or the people with the better powers- like Luka and Daniel- go on the missions. She'd be here for moral support. And doing that, Ariella felt like she let her friends get kidnapped. She did nothing to stop it. She never once stepped in to help protect her friends. How could she call herself their friend?
Pulling on a white tie-dye hoodie, Ariella shook the thoughts from her head and rubbed at her eyes. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and secured it tightly, insuring it wouldn't come free and fall in her face when she started moving faster. She dressed comfortably, clothes easy to move in but accompanied with heavy boots that thudded against the ground as she walked. One sleeve had been pushed up and over her elbow to allow the straps of her shield to rest comfortably on her forearm.
Her boots echoed against the floor of the halls as she walked briskly to the meeting spot. Once again those doubts started filling her head again. How could she let this happen? Why didn't she do more? Why did she just sit on the sidelines like she did with her parents? Why, why, why, why, wh-?
"Head high, little one," Heracles rumbled in her head. The sudden deep voice of her patron had her head jerking up and slowing her pace. "These are just the first of the trials. The worst of the bunch before smooth sailing." But, even he didn't sound completely confident in his own words. For his sake, Ariella just nodded at Heracles' words and kept walking.
Within a few moments, Ariella was running into Theo. He looked just as bad as he probably felt and Ariella just couldn't find the words to be kind and motherly like she usualy was with him. She was tired and defeated as well. "You look down more than usual," she decided to go with the obvious staement.
|
|
Demisexual
Leo
Surviving off Thai tea and Miguel O'hara
|
Post by Leo on Nov 12, 2021 2:14:16 GMT -5
Naida woke up slowly, her head spinning, eyes clouded and her mouth was dry. As she moved to sit up, she was all too quickly reminded of that sad little boy who hit her in the head with his staff. All too suddenly she wanted to throw up all over again. But, she forced herself to get over it and focus.
Her hands were bound with each finger taped to the adjacent one on the other hand. Keep her from fighting back. Smart. Her canteen was also nowhere to be found. He's a quick learner. She supposed that's why he was leading this group of criminals. He was one of the few that actually seemed to think ahead. Although that wasn't saying much...
Grunting and looking up at the group around them, Naida tried to focus on who exactly was there. The forms were familiar but something still seemed off.
"One, two, three, four..." she counted quietly. Over and over again see muttered the numbers under her breath as she looked at each and every form laying near her. For a moment she couldn't place what was wrong, why something just felt wrong. "We're missing two," it dawned on her. She looked at features, body shape, everything she could to remember who had come with them. Pascal, Daniel, Echo, and herself...
"Where-?" she started and winced when her throat scratched. She was probably going to lose her voice. But she needed to ask. "Where are Laurie and River? Are they here? Are they ok?"
Her voice was quiet enough that she shouldn't have been surprised when no one woke up or turned to answer her. But, it only annoyed and agitated her more. Attempting to sit up straighter, Naida almost curled right back into herself and passed out. Taking a deep slow breath, she raised her voice to grab her group's attention.
"Hey! Wake up," She said louder. Her head was throbbing angrily, threatening to explode and forcing her to close her eyes for a moment. "Where. are. River. and Laurie?" She managed.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 12, 2021 16:21:21 GMT -5
Laurie had lost all track of the days, and a great deal else besides.
It had been some time (Laurie was not confident to say what length) since he’d woken up in the exiled base. The days seemed to blur; he’d watch the light change around the room, he’d eat, he’d talk to Ripley.
And he’d think. He had an abundance of time to think. Too much of it, in fact.
His anxiety for the welfare of his friends remained, of course, but he still hadn’t been allowed to see them and so for the moment he’d largely dropped the topic with Ripley. He’d been promised that they were safe and that he’d see them eventually. Laurie didn’t have to believe him, of course, but seeing as there was no possibility of him seeing his friends for a while yet he preferred to just take it as the truth. He worried less that way.
He still grieved over River. That much went without saying. Their painful breakup didn’t change what they’d meant to one another. Or at least what River had meant to Laurie. That pain was still raw, the pain of losing him. Because he deserved so much better. He’d always deserved so much better.
He’d probably deserved better than Laurie, too.
In all of this swirling confusion and pain, the only person who’d been there for him was Ripley. Granted, there wasn’t much competition given that Laurie didn’t exactly really see anyone else. Still, he’d become something of an anchor of late. He’d been gentle, even kind. He’d been surprised at first, but as Ripley told him more and more about the exiled and the gods things began to make some sense.
Laurie could see echoes of truth in what Ripley told him; he’d seen it for himself. Seen the way Apollo seemed unconcerned by the pain he was putting a seventeen-year-old child through. Seen the way Pascal feared Hades. He’d seen with his very eyes an injured Luka hauling a bloodied and unconscious Chiara through the portal. He’d seen Lorenzo crying out in the infirmary.
And the more and more he had time alone to sit and think, the more he began to resent. Dionysus knew this; Laurie could feel his unease.
Laurie sat, agitatedly turning the ring he wore around on his finger. His key from Dionysus; the ram’s head ring. Its silver shone serenely as it caught the light. But Laurie felt anything but serene.
”Laurent, I-“ Dionysus began, and Laurie could swear he sounded nervous.
What did he have to he nervous about, if there was no truth in what Ripley had been telling him?
”I don’t want to talk.”
Laurie had never refused his guide like this before. Never spoken to Dionysus like this. In fact, there had never really been this angry tension between them.
”You can’t really believe what he’s telling you? Do you really trust me so little? I told you, I’m not like my father-”
Dionysus was referring to what he’d said to Laurie when he and River were discussing Heracles. That night he’d promised that the gods wouldn’t do to them what they’d done to Heracles all those years ago.
”If you weren’t, I wouldn’t be here. I would be in Bordeaux.”
Laurie paused, shaking his head and laughing a bitter laugh.
”You just love to pretend you’re different, Dionysus, but you’re not. You’re a hypocrite just like the rest of them.”
It truly disgusted him, the stories Ripley had told him about the gods. And if Dionysus was like that? Laurie couldn’t stand that thought. After Dionysus had gone through so many trials, after he’d been through so much to be accepted onto Olympus. How could he do what the gods had apparently done? How could he stand by and let that happen, if he hadn’t?
”I made a promise to you.” Dionysus said firmly ”And I kept it.”
Ha, that was rich. Did Dionysus really think that everything that had happened up until now was just fine? This was smooth sailing, no problems? This was keeping his promise.
”Yeah, what you left out was that you’d already done it.” reminded Laurie harshly
The gods had made the exiled their Heracles. Placed too much burden on them. Sacrificed what was essentially a child army for some kind of greater good. And was it so surprising, or so bad, that the exiled had chosen not to sit around and take it?
Yet here the gods were making the same mistakes again.
There was an awkward pause, as if Dionysus didn’t know what to say.
”Laurie, please, if you just listen to me!”
Laurie was shouting then in response, filled with a wave of anger at the god seemingly trying to order him around again.
”No, I won’t just listen! Get out of my goddamn head for five minutes!” he raged.
And just like that, his head fell silent. It was as if a warmth or a light had left him. As if his head were an empty, cave that had just been plunged into darkness. Only his thoughts left to echo to himself.
His thoughts, and Ripley’s words.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 13, 2021 19:30:12 GMT -5
FLASH FORWARD - NOT NECESSARILY CANON Before Laurie’s trial, he’d sat on his bed. The bedroom he spent most of his time in these days, because it was too damn painful for everyone involved for him to be around the others. They’d accepted him back temporarily and in name only. He had by no means earned their trust.
He didn’t expect to, if he were honest with himself. And it wasn’t his aim anymore. Sure, he wanted their trust, but he was aware that he wasn’t entitled to it just because he knew what he’d been through.
He looked at his hands as he nervously clasped and unclasped them, unable to stop the shaking. He was more nervous than he could express.
”Dionysus?” Laurie asked tentatively into the silence, his voice trembling as much as his body ”I know you’re not talking to me, but I could really use a wish of good luck right now.”
He swallowed, looking up as if that would somehow help, straining to listen as if Dionysus’ voice was somewhere far and distant rather than just inside his head. But he heard nothing but the same stony silence that he’d experienced ever since he’d made his deal with Styx.
He wasn’t used to being alone. As a child, he’d had his sister to look out for him, in her own kind of way. As an Ascendant he’d had his friends, and River. It wasn’t until his time with the exiled that he’d found himself completely on his own, without even Dionysus to guide him.
And it was terrifying, but he’d done it somehow. He might have made a mess of it, but he was alive. All he had to do was get through this. Because one way or another his friends would be doing what was best for them, and regardless of what happened to him he needed that for them.
He sighed, nervously touching his face with his hands, before rising to his feet. He had to go.
Rude to be late to your own trial.
————
It was almost over. He’d stood before his friends and listened to the pain he’d caused them laid out in front of him. All the reasons he shouldn’t be allowed to stay.
Now there was only one part left. The hardest part.
As he stood in front of the leaders, his gaze shifted to Cleo as he clasped his hands together in front of him. Had to stop them from shaking. He needed the courage to do this.
”Cleo, can I say something before you guys make your decision?”
Cleo nodded, which didn’t surprise him. He’d figured he would have been given an opportunity to address the leaders and make his case anyway
So he took a deep breath, and began. He just had to dive into it before he lost his nerve.
”I want to say first that I don’t resent that this trial is happening. The questions you’re all asking about me, about who I am, whether I can be trusted, whether I deserve to be here, I’ve asked them all too. I’m asking them all the time, and the worst part is that I don’t have an answer. I know you all will do better than me.”
He truly had no idea what the outcome of the trial should be. What he’d done didn’t deserve forgiveness, but what he’d been through called for compassion rather than condemnation.
”The truth is that I don’t know what the decision should be today. I’m not asking for forgiveness, I’m not even asking for you to vote to allow me to stay. I hurt each and every one of you, and I inflicted pain I can never take back.”
He looked from leader to leader then. He dropped briefly on Lucien, who looked at him with a kind of hurt and disappointment that cut more deeply than his angry. But it didn’t hurt as much as River’s face. When he looked at it, all he could think of was the betrayed look he’s seen on it when they’d first seen one another after Laurie had joined the exiled. The look of utter shattering pain and confusion.
Now River looked at him like he was a stranger.
”I can’t give you the answers you’re looking for about why I did it. Because I know that’s what you’re asking. You’re hoping I can somehow give an answer that explains everything so we can make it all okay again and move on. The problem is that I’m not ready to talk openly about what I went through. Even if I did, there’s no answer I could give that would magically fix everything. What I went through doesn’t negate the pain I caused you all.”
He’d come to understand that. Sure, he was trying every day to remind himself that what Ripley had done to him wasn’t Laurie’s fault, but Ripley’s alone. But Laurie was still responsible for the terrible things he’d done and the hurt he’d inflicted on the people he’d loved. The suffering he’d undergone didn’t absolve him of guilt for what he’d done.
”So I’m not here tonight to beg forgiveness or make excuses because even I’ve heard enough of that from myself.” he continued ”and I’m just as much as you searching for answers and trying to come to terms with what I did. No, I’m here to thank you.”
His voice had wavered a little at those last words so he had to drop his gaze from their faces and try to keep himself composed, swallowing to get rid of the lump in his throat, before he looked up again.
”You took me back in despite what I did. Without you all, I would still be there. Regardless of what decision you make tonight, you will be giving me a chance to heal, and that is a grace and a mercy bigger than you know.”
Even if he wasn’t allowed to remain in the Pantheon, he didn’t have to ever return to the exiled again. He didn’t have to live in the fear and guilt he’d been living in. Either choice was freedom for him.
By this point Laurent had forgotten any attempt to keep composure, tears running unchecked down his cheeks.
”I don’t know if I have the right to call you this anymore, but all of the Ascendants have truly been family to me and I’m endlessly thankful for that. And I know I took that trust and love and I hurt you with it and that’s why I understand. I don’t want to lose you all but if you vote to have me leave I’ll take that without protest.”
He deserved to answer for what he’d done and they all had the right to choose not to keep him in their lives, especially given the danger of being Ascendants. If they didn’t think they could ever trust him enough again to put their lives in his hands then that was understandable and he would leave.
”I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done. I wish with every part of me I could go back and change it all but I can’t. I will take any punishment, any ruling you think I deserve.”
He wanted to go st least some way for atoning for what he’d done, even though he knew that it may not be possible.
His speech completed, Laurie stepped back slightly to indicate that he was giving the floor back to the leaders and was prepared to step away so they could begin their deliberations without him there.
It was going to be tense, and he didn’t know how long it would take or what they’d decide in the end. But Laurie knew that whatever decision they would come to would lift a weight from him, and hopefully from them all.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 14, 2021 18:55:11 GMT -5
Lucien didn’t know how long he spent in the medical wing. Far too long, probably. But eventually the hours passed and the evening finally came. There was no escaping it, no putting it off any longer. It was time for the mission.
So he rerolled a roll of bandages he’d been nervously rolling and unrolling, putting it back away, and headed out. From there he navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the Pantheon, eventually coming to the leaders’ area, from which he and Cleo would be monitoring the mission.
They’d never really bothered with anything like that before apart from checking in on things from the map occasionally and using text to keep in contact. But after the events of Hallowe’en and with the size of the group dwindling so much, there wasn’t a choice. Lucien would have done it even if Cleo hasn’t suggested it.
He pulled the door open to the room, settling himself into the chair from which he’d be keeping track of the events of that night. Huh, he was the first one there. He supposed it made sense; Cleo must have been taking care of last-minute prep just like him. If he’d had it in him he probably would have prepared some kind of comment to make when they came in to make fun of them for not being there before him, but he didn’t.
He found his hands once again, as they had so often since that Hallowe’en night, drifting to River’s dog tags around his neck. He wanted to do right by his friend, and he didn’t know how. River wasn’t really talking to people at the moment, and Lucien wasn’t good at conversation in general, particularly emotional ones. Especially when the other person didn’t want to talk. He was scared he’d say the wrong thing and make things worse. So all he could do was try and do for the others what he hadn’t done for River, as the first step for making up for his part in what had happened.
He wanted to tear himself apart but he didn’t even have the luxury of doing that. He had to keep himself together. Not just himself, all the others. Suddenly he, Luka and Cleo were being looked to as lights in the darkness, rocks to hold on to. They weren’t, but who else were the others supposed to be looking to at a time like this but their leaders?
Lucien had to be what they needed. It was a strange new feeling for him, because he was more used to everyone having low expectations for him. Everyone back in Chicago, then Cleo. He’d hated it before, but now he’d kind of give anything for it.
”Courage, kid.” Apollo’s voice rang with that warmth from the back of his head, like sun rays breaking over a bank of cloud ”You have the strength for what’s ahead, I wouldn’t have chosen you if you didn’t. All I need from you is a little faith.”
Lucien didn’t know about faith. Which sounded stupid to say with a literal god in your head but still. He’d been let down one too many times before. Still, if he had to pick one thing to have faith in, it was probably his friends.
Talking of which, he sat tensely in his seat, remaining anxious and on high-alert as he waited for Cleo and Luka to appear. One last chat before the mission and then that was it. The group for the mission would leave and Cleo and Lucien would listen and pray.
|
|
|
Post by Nariku The Avaricious on Nov 14, 2021 20:05:23 GMT -5
When Theo got to the meeting area, he leaned against the wall and waited for everyone else to show up. With Lane’s message and disappearance, he wasn’t sure what this meant exactly. Were they still going to continue with the mission? Or were they going to wait until she came back to continue? He hoped it would be the latter, though, because of the short notice, it didn’t seem likely. “Lane, you-,” Theo mumbled under his breath, nervously brushing his hair back with a comb. Man, he hoped the stress didn’t knock his hair out of place. He’d combed earlier, but he wasn’t willing to risk people seeing him in a state that wasn’t ideal.
After a few minutes of it, Theo heard the distinct sound of heavy footsteps and instantly shoved his comb away into his pocket. He turned his head to see Ariella approach. Good she was still coming, he didn’t want to imagine what it would be like if they were stuck with only 3 people who didn’t have superstrength.
“Down, me?” Theo gave a laugh, pushing his anxiety to the back of his mind, “I’m here, right? I’d be elsewhere if I wasn't fine. Like Lane. I don’t know what’s her deal, but I doubt she’s coming.” The last part slipped out before he could stop it, but it couldn’t be helped since the mysterious Lane letter was still on his mind.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 18, 2021 6:21:58 GMT -5
NOT NECESSARILY CANON - JUST FOR FUN PANTHEON ARCHIVES FILES ACCESSED FILES LOADING... FILES LOADED
A young girl of about fifteen or sixteen years of age sat on a couch as the camera flickered to life. She was intent on a task, which appeared to be embroidering some kind of design onto a jacket. Her eyes followed the flashing needle, eyebrows furrowed in focus. Her brown hair was clipped away from her face, loose tendrils escaping and evidently irritating the girl, who had to pause to tuck a few behind her ear.
"Oh, Gwenny," came a teasing masculine voice as the camera zoomed in on the girl
Gwen looked up to the camera, sticking out her tongue with a smile. She quickly dropped the expression, returning to look down at the jacket on her lap.
"Oh, Atticus," she replied in the same tone as she resumed her task. Her voice had a more distinctive Danish accent than it would later have; she had clearly not left Aarhus too long ago at this point.
The younger Atticus chuckled lightly, zooming in even further on his friend.
"What day is it today?" he asked
Gwen looked up once again.
"It's the 7th of January, 2018,"
Atticus didn't miss a beat in his reply to the girl.
"And it's your birthday, isn't it?" Atticus questioned, receiving a nod and a smile in response, before adding "And how old are you today?"
Gwen put aside the jacket she was working on, obviously sensing that she wasn't going to be able to get back to it anytime soon. At least not until Atticus was done with the camera.
"Sixteen."
Gwen laughed as Atticus made a quiet whooping sound, zooming the camera in and out.
"Stop, you're going to make us all sick when we watch this back," she reprimanded jokingly, still laughing
Atticus obliged and stopped zooming in and out, instead just letting the camera focus on his friend. Her face was still bright with laughter.
"Did you like your presents?"
Gwen raised an eyebrow
"You mean the cake Alice made but accidentally burned and the birthday card that got water spilled on it? Love them." Gwen replied, but her tone was more teasing. She clearly wasn't actually upset about the presents.
Atticus feigned offence, gasping.
"Hey, we all got you a new scabbard for your dagger!" he protested
Gwen held her hands up in mock apology in response to the older boy
"Right, sorry, could never forget the scabbard," she said sarcastically, flashing him another smile.
Maybe you'll use it and train so you aren't the shittest fighter of the group anymore," Atticus teased cheekily
Gwen's mouth dropped open and with an indignant squeal, she launched a nearby cushion in Atticus' direction, giggling when an 'oof' could be heard off-camera as the projectile made contact.
"Happy birthday, Gwen," Atticus laughed as he ended the recording
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 20, 2021 8:44:27 GMT -5
NOT NECESSARILY CANON - JUST FOR FUN PANTHEON ARCHIVES FOLDER ACCESSED: GWNAKR_NEMESIS FILE: GA_NM_071318.mp4 ____
“We lost Alice today.”
A young girl of sixteen spoke to the computer system in front of her, unable to look at the camera focused on her face. Her voice was soft but rang hollow as she spoke the words, an emptiness in her eyes where there hadn’t been before.
“That’s Raffi, Lyn, Adi, Lewis, Diana, Niko and now Alice.” she said, voice shaky as she listed the names “All in six months.”
Those names came easily to her. She recited them every night, because she refused to forget them. The gods had chosen them because they thought nobody would miss them; it was the least Gwen could do to keep their memories alive so they wouldn’t be forgotten.
And really, what were the gods doing about it? Nothing. They seemed perfectly content to let these people die in their name. Throw their lives away like they were worth nothing, like they were so much garbage. The gods claimed to value the Ascendants more highly than those in their lives before had, then the rest of the world had, but it was becoming clearer and clearer to Gwen that they were lying. They were nothing more than child soldiers.
Over the last six months, Gwen’s grief for the loss of her friends had festered deep within her into something ugly and dark. She couldn’t call it anger, though she was angry. It was something much more ominous. Once the pain of grief and the heat of anger subsided she was left with a cold, black tar-like thing. Resentment and doubt and even hatred that seemed to grow with each loss, with each slight by the gods.
Nemesis had noticed it, but seemed to still hope she could get Gwen to direct it towards the gods’ enemies.
”Nemesis wants me to be angry. She tells me that we should be proud of our friends for serving the gods, and that I should be like her and destroy the gods’ enemies.” Gwen explained bitterly, but she shook her head “but I don’t think I can. I’m past being angry, I’m past being numb.”
She couldn’t do this much longer. She was like a ticking time bomb. But she feared it, though she knew it was inevitable. If when the hatred inside her did explode out and she directed it at the gods as she so wanted to, what would happen then? The gods were far more powerful than they, and she didn’t know what would happen if they turned against them.
”I can’t watch any more death, I just can’t,” she continued, but the bitterness in her voice left and was replaced by a thickening as she tried to swallow back the lump rising in her throat.
She’d seen too much. Things which haunted her.
She didn’t even want to think about what Atticus was going through. Gwen and the others might have lost a friend in Alice, but he’d lost a sister. His pain was more than she could describe.
“Atti is devastated, and I don’t know if he’s going to be able to move past it. I mean, that’s his sister. The gods didn’t do shit to save her.”
She sighed after those words, leaning back and properly taking in the computer for probably the first time since she’d started to speak. What was she doing, talking to the computer like this? Spouting treasonous words against the gods to be logged in the archives forever for anyone to see?
She was smarter than that. Or at least she’d always thought she was.
“Anyway, I should stop.” Gwen continued “I’d like to begin a new voice command.”
”NEW VOICE COMMAND. PLEASE STATE YOUR REQUEST.”
She might as well take care of the practical stuff. It always made her feel better when she did that, like she was more in control. It helped her forget that the Ascendants didn’t seem to have anyone on their side. Not even the gods.
“I’d like to close Ascendant file ADLFLL_ZEUS. I’m not making Atticus do this.”
She couldn’t leave Atticus to close down his own sister’s file. That wouldn’t be fair on him, and she might as well be the one to do it.
”PLEASE STATE YOUR REASON FOR CLOSING THE FILE OF ADELAIDE FELL.”
”She passed away.”
”REASON RECORDED: SUBJECT DECEASED.”
‘Subject deceased’. Way to go with the personal touch. No wonder Gwen and the others felt that the gods didn’t care about them.
”CAUSE OF DEATH?” continued the system
God, they really wanted to dot the i’s and cross the t’s, didn’t they? Gwen knew the system by now, though; it wasn’t the first time she’d had to close an Ascendant file.
“Uhh, electrocution, I guess?” Gwen answered resignedly,
They’d been fighting a monster, and Alice had drawn in electricity to hit it. Too much. It had been too much. Overloaded her body and broken her. A god’s power, as Gwen had bitterly learned, could all too easily shatter the body of a mortal.
The computer asked more and more questions. Date and time of death, location of death. Gwen answered them, but it felt like it wasn’t even her speaking. Like she was listening to someone else’s voice.
She felt so disconnected, like she was so full of that black, tarry hatred that it had pushed her out of her body. She was consumed by it, so consumed by it that she could feel Nemesis’ presence drawing back, as if trying to find a refuge in some safe corner of Gwen’s mind.
She’d keep fighting for her friends. Not for the gods. As long as they needed her, as long as they wanted to stay, she would stick around.
And she’d add Alice’s name to her mental list of the lost that night.
|
|
|
Post by 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨 on Nov 22, 2021 11:44:19 GMT -5
Luka took a few deep breaths, preparing herself for the day she had ahead of her. It would be planning, discussion, and training all day. There wasn’t going to be downtime to go hop on games or watch TV shows. Not that she’d been too interested in either of those activities lately anyways.
Even her pranks came to a halt, no longer would Luka grin as she replaced spices in foods, and she didn’t leave silly memes on the walls of the Pantheon anymore. When people provoked it, she’d tease them, and one particularly good days she’d leave some jokes around, whether it be stupid puns like Mistle-foe which she used on Theo, or a picture she put on Theo’s door that had the emojis for an eye and a yard (the closest thing she could think of for lawn). But in regards to how it was before, Luka had been pretty tame.
Other than that time she turns off the hot water in the middle of midday when she knew some people were likely taking showers, but no one could technically trace that back to her and she refused to listen even if they did.
Today was a nerve wracking day, and she felt a buzzing excitement in her veins, they were going to get the others back. She knew it. Sure she was scared of going to the base, but they had this planned perfectly. The Exiled had no way of knowing what they’d be doing. It would be in the middle of the night, under the shadow of the mood, and they’d find the others and get them home. Well, technically, they might just locate a way to get the others, but she was optimistic. She had to be.
Taking a few deep breaths, she pulled her black jacket closer to her body. She was already dressed in her mission attire, all dark clothing. Black pants, black combat boots, a black jacket, and her hair was pulled into a low ponytail. She still had yet to put on some things, like weapons, her earpiece. But just the feel of the fabric hugging her skin made her feel a giddy anxiousness.
She wasn’t foolish enough to believe it’d go perfectly, but they’d thought through so many scenarios. They had this planned.
Nothing ever goes to plan. That was something said quite often, and she had to be ready for anything. But she was confident in what they had planned, confident in the fact that they accounted for many possibilities.
Once she entered the meeting room, she spotted Lucien already in there. Cleo had yet to make it, probably off discussing with some kids or doing research, but no matter. Luka would rather it just be Lucien as company anyways.
“Wow, Princess Sunshine looks like shit today,” she commented, raising an eyebrow at him, “you look like you haven’t slept in days. It’s kind of sad.”
She had a feeling he was stressed, but they always joked with each other to deflect. She was a bit worried, he did seem stressed, and as anxious as she was, she didn’t particularly enjoy seeing her friends stressed.
Looking around rather quickly, Luka shrugged, “and Cleo is fashionably late,” she pointed out. Not that Luka really minded Cleo being late, it’d be nice to have a few moments to talk to Lucien.
|
|
|
Post by ƤαƖƖαѕ ✧ on Nov 22, 2021 12:28:17 GMT -5
Lucien, being as tense and filled with adrenaline as he was, immediately heard Luka come in. Not wanting to worry her when she had the entire mission to worry about and most certainly not wanting awkward questions about whether he was okay (not that he and Luka really did that with one another), he made a conscious effort to try and relax.
It was too late, though, as Luka seemed to have already noticed and promptly commented on it in that joking kind of way. Now that was how the two of them did things. That was Luka’s way of letting him know she had noticed he wasn’t okay, maybe even that she was a little worried. Touching, really, in its own way.
”Oh, we’re combining the nicknames now, wonderful.” Lucien commented sarcastically, joking in return, before taking in Luka’s all-black outfit and ponytail ”and who are you, Kim Kardashian at the Met Gala? Or is it more of a dementor look?”
His way of trying to put her at ease. Even though outwardly she seemed kind of excited, even optimistic, Lucien knew her better. Luka was anxious. She hadn’t even been pranking people. He’d never have thought he would miss that, but he did.
He very pointedly didn’t address her statement that he looked like shit, figuring that his joke might have been enough to deflect from the concern she seemed to have. He was stressed, but no more than everybody else and seeing as he wasn’t even going on the mission he felt the focus should be on those who were going. What he wasn’t going to do was worry Luka right before the mission, and he certainly wasn’t going to set a precedent of explicitly sharing his feelings with people.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s the first time they’ve ever been late to a leaders’ thing,” Lucien pointed out
He couldn’t tell if that was sad or not. It was probably at least a little bit sad. Lucien was never super late, but he was only very rarely the first person there. Huh, no wonder Cleo didn’t think he took it very seriously.
”You know the plan for tonight, yeah?” Lucien questioned. That was his way of expressing his concern for Luka. Hell, he’d grown up helping to look after his mother when her depression was bad, and he’d also grown up with a concerned older sister who’d basically parented him since their dad left. Sometimes those things bled through into his behaviour.
”I don’t care what Cleo tells you to do, if anything seems even slightly off while you’re there, you have to get the hell out.” Lucien told her firmly.
He didn’t think Cleo would tell Luka and her group to stay if anything seemed off, he’d think they were as concerned as him about the possibility of losing anybody else. But if they did, the last thing he wanted was for Luka to pick that moment to start listening to Cleo.
They couldn’t lose anyone else. Lucien couldn’t lose anyone else. He needed Luka and the others to be safe, he didn’t know what he’d do if anything happened.
The distinct fear crossed his mind that if something did happen, only he and Cleo would be left as leaders. If anything happened to Cleo, Lucien would be on his own. At least until the moment when River felt able to return, if he’d ever feel okay about resuming his role as leader, or until Irene and Dillon returned from Italy. If they returned. He couldn’t hold it together on his own; he wasn’t strong enough, he wasn’t mature enough. He wasn’t ‘leader’ enough.
But that fear did not compare to the fear of losing Luka, who understood him better than pretty much anyone, tied only maybe with River. The fear of losing any of his friends. Ariella, Theo, Chiara, Lane.
There was a lot riding on that night. If successful, it could be incredible for the Ascendants. If it failed, it could decimate the Ascendants again and allow the exiled to strike a fatal blow to the group.
|
|