#* ━━ VERSE 002 : 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝘁𝘂𝗱𝗲.

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❝ Note to self. Heroes? Overrated. ❞

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random starter for ˗ˏˋ @seachant * bc we haven't had ariel and meg interact yet somehow, and i love nini's ariel ?? wtf

The water's edge, along the calm ocean, as long as it was relatively level... minimally rocky, and near to the ground... was nice. The way light shimmers off of the golden chariot's spoils... gleams in the afternoon sun. Meg understands the appeal of solitude once she walks along the ocean. She sighs, heavily albeit not unhappily, and, hoisting her dress up, she settles, gently, upon a rock. She could think here.

Or, perhaps, something even better.

Staring out into the endless distance, she pulls a small, albeit carefully crafted wooden flute out, and up to her lips. Blowing upon it gingerly, she begins to play. A sad, pretty little tune, one she had learnt back home, in the Theban docks, from an old lone traveling woman, long left to herself after a day of trading and caravans. Sometimes Megara wonders where that woman is; who she is. She'll never know.

What was that?

Meg stops for a moment. Her heart skips. She lowers the flute only just. She furrows a brow; lips flattened in a tepid concern. Had that been a fish? She could have sworn she had caught a glimmer of a large, green fin. And out here, a woman could never be too cautious.

After nothing happens for a few more long, tense moments... Meg reluctantly relaxes once again... falls back into her playing. Perhaps just a trick of the light.

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˗ˏˋ @musemelodies * said : "i'll take it from here, darling. (TIMON)"

❝ Hey, knock yourself out, T. ❞ Meg's speaking out of the corner of her mouth to the meerkat upon her shoulder, lips flattened in annoyance. ❝ Pretty sure between the two of them there's not quite one brain, so. ❞

❝ HEY, SISTER! ❞ The gruff, loud yell of PAIN, Hades's little minion, from in front of Timon and Meg. ❝ WE GOT WORKIN' EARS, YOU KNOW! ❞

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for ❪ ✾ @mountfreeze. ❫

There's something in the air, and that's concerning. Of course, the Underworld was no romp through the roses as it stood normally ... perhaps through the Asphodel, sometimes ... but this ... this is different. This is the piercing weight of a thousand daggers, pointed at her; the aura of a watchful leer, pointed directly at (and through) her. This is being watched. And the being watching her feels alive.

It's life.

Meg has been wandering the endless tunnels, alight with blue flame, of the realm of the dead today (or was it still today? She hardly knew; time moved differently here). The River Styx flows endlessly and with no restraint; souls trapped within, forevermore, gray and lifeless and melancholy. It's a sad existence, but, usually, if Hades was not here, a peaceful one. That's a welcome change. But sometimes...

Meg's been standing at the river's edge when she feels the eyes on her. Their burning pulls her from her brooding contemplation of what it must be like, to flow through the Styx, uninterrupted and untouched by the pain of men ... and instead she searches for their source, concerned.

As if on cue, her violet, sharp eyes meet a pair of red and luminescent white, belonging to a beautiful creature with flowing tails. Meg feels those eyes travel through her soul and back again; the hair on her neck stands on edge. She lets out a tiny gasp; stands frozen in place.

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It never got old, seeing that face. Those big beautiful blues; puppy dog eyes of awe and of wonder upon a boyish, handsome face ━━ untouched by the ways of men (at least thus far), and nothing short of elated to see her, despite herself. As Hercules drops the weights with a CRASH, she can't help but grin. All that just 'cuz I said hello? What a trip. She'd be lying if she denied enjoying his reactions to her.

❝ Woah, heh. Careful there. I feel the earth move seein' you, Wonderboy. ❞ She looks toward the dropped weights, a humorous smile still tugging at her painted lips. Meeting his eyes with a glint of mischief, she tilts her head. ❝ Good to see you too. I was just ... comin' to congratulate ya. On caging that harpie. ❞ She's referring to his last encounter; a heroic trial of wits and agility, leading to a caged creature of horror, unable to torment the city of Thebes any longer with him around. ❝ Seems like there's nothin' you can't do. ❞

He was almost certain he'd woken all of greece by the sheer, thunderous FORCE his training weights made as they uncermoniously hit the ground below him. OOPS. Now, perhaps, he should have set them down more gently - but when he caught glimpse of certain young woman, everything else was simply forgetten. he rushed on forward, stopping just steps before her. Was he out of breath from the work-out before, or by the rush of excitement of seeing his dear friend ? One had to wonder…

" Meg !! Wha- What are you doing here ? It's so good to see you !! "

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˗ˏˋ ❥ @musemelodies big bad gets a random thing because i love him. *

❝ Alright, FIDO. Wonderboy can't find Phil. Spit it out. ❞

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@musemelodies for ˗ˏˋ timon , * the tiny sass pal, continued from here.

❝ Hey, at least you got My Town. Don't even get me started on the dramatic renditions of his original stuff. And he gets those little imps for back-up vocals. Not everyone short and small can sing, ya know. ❞

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˗ˏˋ @aamaranthiine * said : "try to be a little bit more careful next time."

Megara rises, slowly, from the water. Such a voice is hardly human. It's soft and feminine and silvery as a bell, and it rings through the clearing, almost as if the light upon the water speaks. Nessus, the river guardian, is an unforgiving brute, and yet, he had fled. He had almost CHOKED a few moments ago ━━ spotted something ... stared into the forest at someone Meg couldn't see ━━ and, finally, released her in a panicked open hand. He had run off and into the thicket; snorting and grunting in frustration and evident anguish. At least for now, Meg has been spared from his horrid whims.

Or maybe not. Was it thanks to this mysterious being, or in fear of? WHO WAS SHE, AND WHERE?

All Meg can hear is a voice. Leaning toward the trees, tepidly, she looks for whom had addressed her ... unsure, cautious, tense to face an immortal. She is no stranger to the gods, and what they can do.

❝ Yeah, sure, I'll uh ... keep that in mind. ❞ She frowns. Water drips from her hair and her clothes, and she narrows her gaze. The trees are thick, but she thinks she can glimpse ... some white? A horn? Was that ... a horse? Or not quite...

❝ Who are you? ❞

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There's just something about Wonderboy. Meg's sitting beside him beneath an apple tree, the flow of her dress flowering a relaxed, sideways form, a tiny smirk upon her lips. There's a curve of a single finger, resting upon her chin; it's a gentle, feigned intrigue beyond their circle; she knows he's watching her.

She's never felt like a statue but beneath his gaze. It's a curious way to feel. The day is sunny; the fields before them gleaming, almost as if Elysium itself lies beyond. (Meg would never see it, but she'll imagine this is as close as she'll be). She's a woman in a painting; a marble who can speak, and is not only listened to, but asked to do so. What a strange way it feels.

He's dealt with a lot, this boy. It's not exactly what she had expected upon meeting him; in fact, it's nothing like she's expected at all. Hercules is famous; rich, abundant in fortune, and options for women, too. From the little she knows about him so far, though, he's not the typical ... hero. He's deadly and unmatched, a master in his tasks, and yet he remains doe-eyed; lustless despite the burn of war. He's not asking to fight, but to learn; to understand. To befriend. To befriend her...?

He's got a coach, a flying horse, an abode ━━ but he's fallen; he's not so different. He's separated from it all. He's grown up alone too, in a way. Friendless and feeling alien; that's what he'd all but admitted. Meg's not unfamiliar with such an ache.

Hercules has done what people so often cannot achieve; he's surprised her.

❝ Ya know, I don't remember where I heard that one. Possibly Homer, yeah. ❞ It's not a bad guess. ❝ All roads lead back to Homer, don't they? ❞ She tilts her head with the rhetoric; meets his baby blue eyes with her own. He's a statue of a man, too, this one, but he's not slid into his carve; he's stumbled. That makes her chest warm a bit. Gods, what a face.

❝ Anyway, Wonderboy. Point is, you'll find someone. A pair of pectorals like you? Trust me. Ya got a line halfway down to Athens just back at your villa, ya know. ❞

“fall in love with someone who tastes like adventure but looks like the calm, beautiful morning after a terrible storm. heh. cheesy, right?” -- @keepmovinjunior

hercules didn't realize he was staring. he knew exactly what she meant, and not only that, herc felt it whenever she appeared. from the first moment he saw meg, he sensed the beginning of something. whether it was love at first sight, he couldn't tell. the certainty came when she dismissed his heroic efforts to rescue her. before that point, hercules had never considered anyone refusing help. he never thought that the only person he'd ever asked was phil. it was the sort of help that he would earn. hercules didn't want phil to do the work for him. with each drop of sweat and tears, the fallen son of zeus built his way up on his own terms. herc supposed he'd never met anyone like that until he encountered meg. a terrible storm sounded frightening. to herc, it reminded him of home and the strength gifted to him by his rightful guardian. it was a power he witnessed in her, too.

the hero jerked bodily out of his stupor, shaking his head clear of the fog. "what? no! it's not cheesy, at all. it's--" he gulped, eyes falling briefly before peaking back up at her. "it's nice. is it, uh, homer?" his eyebrows bunched together forming a sharp line between them. hercules tried to appear collected and modestly intrigued. he wondered could she hear his racing heart inside his chest beating like a drum.

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˗ˏˋ @seachant , * continued from here.

❝ Hey, couldn't judge ya if I tried, Red. ❞ Ariel's quickly put the fork down in visible embarrassment, causing Meg's lips to curl upwards in a soft smile. No need for that.

❝ Dinglehopper's got your hair lookin' flashy as ever. Who am I to fix what works? ❞

Ariel's cute, Meg thinks, as she advances toward her ━━ cute and a bit doe eyed; cute in the way those not yet completely eclipsed by the world's ills often were. AN INGENUE, if you will. It's a rare quality. Meg smirks, one half of her mouth tugged playfully. ❝ Need a hand? ❞ She's got an actual hairbrush handy; copper handled and made from horse hair, and she holds it up with her question, giving it a tiny shake for emphasis.

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@cxnscience said : ‘ this is great. i mean, i really love this … adventure, excitement, danger lurking around every corner … ’ but hes being sarcastic he hates it here 😔 outside of his pay grade fr

❝ Yeah, and you're leavin' out the best part, Explorer Jones ━━ ❞ she stops in front of a massive, growling, drooling three-headed beast. ❝ Hell Hounds barrin' your exit and doomin' ya to stay for all eternity. Nifty, huh. ❞

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@grandvizier , * continued from here.

Being of the Underworld had its benefits, arguably. Were she in control of her own fate, Megara might have even been inclined to enjoy the secrecy of its nature. The ability it granted her to appear in places unnoticed, undetected, and at any moment... it could certainly come in handy to a free woman. However, a free woman Meg is not. Oftentimes, she's sent somewhere blindly; almost an apparition, and, perhaps, a temptation, to horrible, foreboding figures, all to win them in Hades favor; to persuade, convince, intrigue. She's a weaponized blind woman, fighting for a cause not her own, and without any information nor warning at all.

" You're a skilled little lady, eh? C'mon, Meg. I believe in you. You'll use that sharp little head of yours and figure it out! No questions. See ━━ I don't gotta waste my precious time and explain the mission ━━ and that's what's so great about you, huh? I'm an immortal! Time is of absolutely no essence! Badda bing. Right. "

Ugh. If only she didn't know exactly how Hades thought. She hates herself for it.

Even clearer, however, is the sight in front of her ━━ a very tall, rather dark and, unquestioningly, by the looks of his outfit and how silent and still he himself is, powerful looking figure with a SNAKE STAFF, standing before a tree. He's hardly reacted to her presence, which tells her he is unconcerned with a woman like her. He does not fear her; she's used to this. However, less familiar to her is his neutrality; he does not move impulsively; does not immediately gravitate toward dominating her. Like her, the other waits, and perhaps strikes from the grass, rather than the sky. THE SNAKE. Well, duh. Just look at his staff.

Meg stares for a long while, unsure of what to do. She knows better than to make any foolish moves, but Hades wants her here for a reason. Perhaps she could at least get him to speak...

❝ If you're lookin' for something... ❞ Meg tries, carefully. ❝ I uh. Know these woods pretty well. ❞ She doesn't, but she'll figure it out. ❝ If you're willin' to listen to a girl like me, that is. ❞

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Ugh; the Casanova rescuer. Here we go again. They're always around, these well - to - doers; always trying to do well, and be a man, and rescue the local damsel in distress. In this case: her. Supposedly.

Little did they know ━━ most of the time, they actually made things worse for her.

It wasn't their fault, really. Men were raised to help a lady in need. It was just the nature of the beast, after all. Rescue a gal, get a gal. She doesn't make things look particularly easy for her, either, because, well, they're not. Hades's bidding never is.

Still, Meg's on a deadline, here. As if her disobedient camel hadn't been enough of a headache (hooved vehicles didn't have the best track record with her; they never seemed to see eye to eye ━━ and Meg is suspicious that the fact that she's stolen this one doesn't exactly help her case), now this ... charming little well to doer is in her face, adding more precious time to the ticking clock before her.

Rising off the ground that her camel had thrown her to, she dusts her shoulders off, and grips at the reins. The ungulate doesn't make things smooth, and continues his game of Houdini escape artistry, tugging in resistance. This continues making Meg stumble, and every word comes out curt.

❝ Awful lotta - big assumptions you're makin' there, Chief. Would it shock ya if I ━━ ❞ her words get cut off with an "oomf," as her camel pushes against her, almost causing her to fall again, ❝ ━━ knew my way around? ❞ Don't answer that.

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₊˚⊹꒷      “ If  you  needed  help,  all  you  had  to  do  was  ask. ”      he's  polite,  as  was  he  always  so  when  it  came  to  women,  but  this  one  seemed  to  be  so  prickly  he'd  be  sorely  missed  should  he  proceed  with  this  offer.  this  cactus  woman  still  held  blooms  that  burst  in  each  breath.        “ I  could  just  let  you  wander  around  lost  if  that's  what  you  prefer.  I  won't  bother  you  again,  I  swear. ”

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@sixba said : The cub was in a cage by the coliseum waiting to be taken back to a place called The Lion's Area to be raised for battles. He didn't know what that was, but he didn't really want to sit and be confined behind bars anymore. He decided that he'd call out to the next person that passed hoping they'd be able to help. "Hey! Over here! Help!"

It'd been a long day, dealing with the musk and buzz of these ... men. Meg had been surrounded all day by swords, rusty and sharp... rugged bodies covered in armor... had had to endure screams for blood and warfare ; mindless sparring with each other, endlessly.

She was done for the day, however ; she had completed her task, thank the gods. Or, well, THANKS TO ONE in particular. She would not be spending a moment longer lingering here. Doing her best to slip out unnoticed, she had been moving silently along the columns, toward the exit, having only just narrowly escaped yet another conversation with one particularly persistent warrior. Taking a quick detour at the sight of him, she ducked between two columns... just out of sight, and avoiding a pair incoming as well, hoisting cages of what she could only presume were lions.

Tough break for the beasts, honestly. Poor things.

Ugh. Gladiators. Meg had always found the entire practice barbaric, and she frowns at the back of their helmets as they pass. That was what you got, when you had a world run by men...

❝ Hey! Over here! Help! ❞

Huh? Meg's eyes dart around, her thoughts interrupted, trying to find the source of the young voice... and they land, instead, upon a lion cub, caged nearby and golden as the morning sun. She blinks, rapidly, but doesn't say anything... not at first.

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˗ˏˋ ❥ @mariotime gets a thing, because i'm like that. *

❝ Heard you were . . . lookin' for a princess. ❞

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❥ @deathxdefied , for aphrodite *

❝ Ugh. You. Listen, I uh . . . don't want anymore trouble, alright? Promise ya, I'm . . . in deep into the lessons of true love and all that. ❞

She frowns, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, looking down in a submissive gesture of surrender. Meg has a feeling she's not, nor has she ever been, in Aphrodite's good graces.

❝ It's a mess, best left to you. I got it. ❞