songb1rd

[songb1rd]

suitors; y’all don’t worry we far outnumber that old king!! he’s trapped!!

odysseus; i’m not trapped in here with you. you’re trapped in here with me. 🙂

[songb1rd]

jorge is in the ensemble vocals for hold them down so just imagine one of the suitors seeing another suitor stand & launch an arrow into antinous’ neck only to reveal himself as the old king like

[songb1rd]

Y’ALL THERE’S A FUCKING DANGER MOTIF RIGHT WHEN PENELOPE SAYS IF THAT’S TRUE COULD YOU DO ME A FAVOR

[songb1rd]

thinking abt how odysseus, covered in blood & finally becoming a true monster to slaughter the suitors, is almost uncharacteristically gentle with those he loves — telemachus, penelope, athena — after the fact. like u would expect him to immediately snap into king mode but he sees his son whom he hasn’t seen in twenty years & just... melts. he can breathe again knowing they’re all safe. he can stop being atlas shouldering the world & let himself be vulnerable. he’s finally home after twenty years with those he loves—

[songb1rd]

BROTHERS WE’VE GOT COMPANY & HE’S MADE A GRAVE MISTAKE IS THE SAME MELODY AS SHE CAN TURN U INTO AN ANIMAL FROM WOULDN’T U LIKE

[songb1rd]

OH MY GOD DURING PENELOPE’S LAST WAITING FOR U BEFORE THE JUST A MAN INSTRUMENTAL, THE MELODY ON FOR IS THE WHOA THAT THE CREW USED IN SUFFERING DURING THE MURDER OF THE SIRENS

[songb1rd]

epic the musical secret santa for @savimatteo2810!! i’m sorry this is short, but i hope u like it either way!! tw for slight mentions of violence!! wc; 424.

when the poets sing of odysseus, they sing of athena’s greatest champion who cunningly blinded the fearsome cyclops, who bested the witch circe. they sing of the arduous journey home that took ten years. they sing of a loyal husband who cried every night on calypso’s beach, longing for his homeland, his wife & son.

they do not sing of the monster he has become in order to make it home alive. they do not sing of the man who dropped the infant from the walls of troy. they do not sing of the man who left the sirens in the sea to drown, nor do they sing of the man who tortured the god of the oceans with his own trident.

they will not sing of the man who now hides in the darkness of his own palace, bow in hand.

the rightful king of ithaca is cloaked in shadow as he maneuvers the halls of the home he built himself, eyes locked on flickering torchlight in the distance. he can hear the panicked & hushed voices of the suitors intruders demons & a chilling smile comes to his face. they thought they were so bold during his wife’s challenge, eager to prove themselves as men. now they are mere boys afraid of the monster that lurks in the darkness. the final obstacle between him, his family, & his kingdom.

he aims the bow — the knowledge that his earlier prayer to apollo was heard steadies his hand — towards dark curls while taking a deep breath. the arrow flies straight & true.

the corridor is engulfed in pure darkness as the dull thump of eurymachus’ dead weight hitting the ground echoes throughout.

he retreats further into the shadows. even though he has aged with time, his eyesight is still sharp, especially in the dark. he catches sight of another torch & wastes no time in nocking an arrow. the flame winks out. a cry of he’s aiming for the torches is heard in the distance, causing his grip on the bow to tighten. no matter. he will press on.

another arrow is let loose with every torch he sees. he knows he’s running out of time — they could’ve found out where he hid their weapons by now. even if they did, he is the better marksman by far. they do not stand a chance. come sunset, they will all be on their way to the underworld.

he will show them he is the true king of ithaca. he will show them that the name odysseus is meant to be feared.