#helenus

[ala-chrisgoods]

Imagine you have a lot of young siblings and Now there are thunder and lightning so they can't sleep, jump into your bed and scream 'Hector Hector'

some sketch in February, I love Trojan family.☺️❤️

[alibonbonn]

Hector and Helenus' potential dynamic is so funny to me

[literallyjusttoa]

"Sunny!" you cry, "Why did you draw the entire Trojan royal family from oldest to youngest in two days? That seems wildly unhealthy!"

"hurghhhhhhhh" I reply.

Anyways here's the full family portrait

(Only four of these people survive the Trojan war btw :D)

[naori-is-nidaime-hokage]

Kassandra: Helenus, I hate it there, this guy Ajax always look weird at me

Helenus: wait, isn't he dead?

Kassandra: no, that's was greater Ajax

Helenus: I thought that was Teucer?

Kassandra: no, Teucer is his little brother

Helenus: of who?

Kassandra: Ajax

Helenus: which one?

Kassandra: greater

Helenus: I thought his father only have one son?

Kassandra: Teucer is illegitimate

Helenus: so, Teucer is the twink one, right?

Kassandra: which twink

Helenus: red one

Kassandra: no, that's Neoptolemus, son of Achilles

Helenus: the gay one?

Kassandra: that's a tricky one, there is lots of gays...

Helenus: tall and sexy one

Kassandra: no, that's Diomedes

Helenus: huh? Isn't he eaten by horses?

Kassandra: no, that's other Diomedes, this Diomedes is friend of Odysseus

Helenus: that one with big boobs?

Kassandra: YEAH, FINALLY YOU GOT SOMETHING

[greeknerdsstuff]

More >:^)

[dilfaeneas]

Hecuba children height and age chart at the start of the war

How things stand at the start vs the end of the 10th year. Oof. (Ages/heights not adjusted)

[littlesparklight]

Got the (foolish lol) idea to go through some of the works I know give physical descriptions of at least some Trojan war characters and collate them. They aren't in alphabetic order, sorry, but the works/authors are colour coded, at least!

Trojans in this post!

Priam The Iliad: "beautiful as a god" = theoeides Dares: a handsome face and a pleasant voice. He was large and swarthy. Malalas, Chronographia: tall for the age, big, good, ruddy-colored, light-eyed, long-nosed, eyebrows meeting, keen-eyed, gray, restrained. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: meeting eyebrows and large nose, a fiercely glaring, flame-coloured skin and an admirable face, well-equipped, with thick hair and beautiful eyes.

Hecuba Dares: beautiful, her figure large, her complexion dark. She thought like a man and was pious and just. Malalas, Chronographia: dark, good eyes, full grown, good nose, beautiful, generous, talkative, calm. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: dark skin, tall and pretty, of a mature age, ambitious, gentle though.

Hektor Dares: Hector spoke with a slight lisp. His complexion was fair, his hair curly. His eyes would blink attractively. His movements were swift. His face, with its beard, was noble. He was handsome, fierce, and high-spirited, merciful to the citizens, and deserving of love. Philostratus, Heroicus: [Hektor and Aeneas] were both of the same age and height, and although Aeneas's appearance seemed less radiant[…], He was smaller than the son of Telamon, but not at all inferior in fighting, […] Short hair. His ears were damaged, not by wrestling […] but he fought against bulls and considered engagement with such beasts warlike. […] He died probably at the age of thirty. Malalas, Chronographia: dark-skinned, tall, very stoutly built, strong, good nose, wooly-haired, good beard, squinting, speech defect, noble, fearsome warrior, deep-voiced.

Andromache Dares: bright-eyed and fair, with a tall and beautiful body. She was modest, wise, chaste, and charming. Malalas, Chronographia: above average height, thin, well turned out, good nose, good breasts, good eyes, good brows, wooly hair, blondish hair long in back, large-featured, good neck, dimples on her cheeks, charming, quick. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: spirited, of middle age, with a long face, delightful; she had dimples on her cheeks when laughed.

Paris/Alexander The Iliad: "beautiful as a god" = theoeides, (beautiful hair - not direct quote, merely taken by how his hair is talked about) Dares: fair, tall, and brave. His eyes were very beautiful, his hair soft and blond, his mouth charming, and his voice pleasant. He was swift, and eager to take command. Philostratus, Heroicus: appearance was most pleasing, and his voice and character were charming[…] He had a rather aquiline nose and white skin, his eyes were painted, and his left eyebrow rose above the eye. […] at eighteen he also sailed to Hellas, […] not yet thirty years old when he died. (calls him as good as Pandaros as an archer. He also gets compared to a peacock lol (for the beauty AND the (supposed) vanity of the bird) Malalas, Chronographia: well-grown, sturdy, white, good nose, good eyes, black pupils, black hair, incipient beard, long-faced, heavy eyebrows, big mouth, charming, eloquent, agile, an accurate archer, cowardly, hedonist. [He is in his early thirties when he goes to Sparta, due to being confined until that age, when he's brought back to Troy] Tzetzes, Antehomerica: had his beauty from the Graces. He was white, of a proper age [he is in his early thirties when he goes to Sparta, due to being confined until that age, when he's brought back to Troy], charming and well-bearded; he had his hair long and blond.

Deiphobos Dares: Deiphobus […] looked like [his] father, but [his] character(s) were not alike. Deiphobus was the man of forceful action[…] Malalas, Chronographia: above average stature, keen-eyed, somewhat snub-nosed, dark-skinned, flat-faced, brave, good beard. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: with a large face, with a small nose and dark skin, beautiful face and well-bearded.

Helenos Dares: Helenus […] looked like [his] father, but [his] character(s) were not alike. […] Helenus was the gentle, learned prophet. Malalas, Chronographia: tall, well set up, white, strong, blond, wine-colored eyes, long-nosed, incipient beard, slightly stooped, sensible, warrior. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: well-adapted, tall, with the beard just sprouting, white, blond, with a big nose and a pale face. He had a soft back, he could escape notice of many.

Troilos Dares: a large and handsome boy, was strong for his age, brave, and eager for glory. Malalas, Chronographia: big, good nose, dark, good eyes, black hair, thick beard, strong warrior and runner. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: big, of quick feet and dark skin, with a delightful face, shaggy-bearded and with long hair.

Kassandra The Iliad: like to golden Aphrodite Dares: moderate stature, round-mouthed, and auburn-haired. Her eyes flashed. She knew the future. Malalas, Chronographia: shortish, round-faced, white, mannish figure, good nose, good eyes, dark pupils, blondish, curly, good neck, bulky breasts, small feet, calm, noble, priestly, an accurate prophet foreseeing everything, practicing hard, virgin. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: a small bodily frame, like of a man, whiter than the milk with perfectly round eyes, she had huge breasts, a small face and she was gentle.

Polyxena Dares: fair, tall, and beautiful. Her neck was slender, her eyes lovely her hair blond and long, her body well-proportioned, her fingers tapering, her legs straight, and her feet the best. Surpassing all the others in beauty, she remained a completely ingenuous and kind-hearted woman. Malalas, Chronographia: tall, pure, very white, large-eyed, black-haired, with her hair worn long behind, a good nose and cheeks, blooming-lipped, small-footed, virgin, charming, very beautiful, 18 years old when they killed her. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: a beautiful aspect and a really long neck; she was tall and white; She had small feet, beautiful breasts and lips like flowers, so outstanding. She was eighteen years old, the age of the youth.

Laodike The Iliad: the most outstanding in beauty of [Hecuba's/Priam's] daughters.

Aeneas Dares: auburn-haired, stocky, eloquent, courteous, prudent, pious, and charming. His eyes were black and twinkling. Philostratus, Heroicus: [Hektor and Aeneas] were both of the same age and height, and although Aeneas's appearance seemed less radiant, he resembled Hektor more when that man had settled down, and he wore his hair long without offense. He did not adorn his hair, nor was he enslaved to it. Instead, he made virtue alone his adornment, and he looked at things so vehemently that even his glance itself was sufficient against the unruly. Malalas, Chronographia: shortish, thick, good chest, strong, ruddy, flat-faced, good nose, pale, balding, good beard. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: short but fat and had a big chest. He had white skin; he was bold with a large face.

Antenor Dares: tall, graceful, swift, crafty, and cautious. Malalas, Chronographia: tall, thin, white, blond, small-eyed, hook-nosed, crafty, cowardly, secure, a story-teller, eloquent. Tzetzes, Posthomerica: tall, slim and had the skin like the milk, white, with a curved nose and blond hair.

Euphorbos The Iliad: His hair gets compared to the Graces' hair. Philostratus, Heroicus: His hair […] he dyed golden-yellow […] He says that his beauty charmed even the Achaeans, for he resembled a statue whenever Apollo appears his own most lovely self with unshorn hair and grace. Protesilaos thinks that Euphorbus was his own age [adolescent]

Briseis/Hippodamia The Iliad: like to golden Aphrodite, a woman like the immortal goddesses Dares: beautiful. She was small and blond, with soft yellow hair. Her eyebrows were joined above her lovely eyes. Her body was well-proportioned. She was charming, friendly, modest, ingenuous, and pious. Malalas, Chronographia: tall, fair, beautiful-breasted, well-dressed, with close-knit eyebrows, a good nose, big eyes, eyelashes with kohl, curly hair worn long in back, with a ready smile, age 21. Tzetzes, Antehomerica: tall and white, her hair was black and curly; she had beautiful breasts and cheeks and nose; she was, also, well-behaved; her smile was bright, her eyebrows big; […] she was twenty-one years old.

Diomede of Lesbos Malalas, Chronographia: fair-skinned, round-faced, blue-eyed, fully grown, not quite blonde, a little snub-nosed, 22 years old, a virgin.

Chryseis/Astynome Malalas, Chronographia: rather short, slender fair, blonde, with a nice nose, small breasts, 19 years old. Tzetzes, Antehomerica: very young and thin, with milky skin. She had blond hair and small breasts; she was nineteen years old; she was still a virgin.

[onthe-shouldersofgiants]

i decided to draw my helenus design w/ ancient assyrian clothing- i replaced the usual flowers with suns and gave him a horse motif on the center of the front panel. i just think the children of priam could have imported clothes from various surrounding cultures and also im assyrian and i make the rules

[neoptolemid]

Christmas gift for @dilfaeneas !! It is their darlings Andromache, Deidamia, and Helenus

[yourcurrentany]

Trojan characters doodles 💃 and Achilles.

(I just noticed I wrote Nestor instead of Priam Imma kms)

[theriverpointace]

i've been thinking

[ala-chrisgoods]

great Ajax:*throw a rock*

Hector:*be hit and lie down*

polydamas:*scream*

[alibonbonn]

Helenus and Cassandra

[sarafangirlart]

I know that DARES OF PHRYGIA's History of the Fall of Troy is a late Roman story but I like that there is a version where Cassandra wasn’t taken by Agamemnon and got to stay with her family, then I got mad again bc apparently the Greeks were never specifically told they needed to kill Polyxena but Neoptolemus (the bastard) wanted to kill her anyway.

[scarlet-sam-chaos]

just posted chapter 3 of my cassandra! percy jackson fanfic :)

(ngl i wrote it in like 6 hours starting like 3 am so... i promise its not unhinged, only the notes in it might be... slightly...)

(the notes are fr my favorite part to write so... heres some of them ehehehhe)

the sisters along with their new sister-in-law, strolling along the beach: percy/cassandra: breaks down sobbing them: ilione: ...so you miss the sea? percy: mhm *sniffs* ilione: ...i sea percy:

percy: obsessed with soap operas hector hearing him: wut apollo, hearing his thoughts: wut

priam: *being a good father* percy with daddy issues:

helenus: percy: helenus: percy: whatchu got there helenus: ah um, my ah... people opener?

[helpmeimblorboing]

First draft of the first chapter of Tearing Tides, a post-Trojan-War story following Andromache after the death of Helenus, being granted immortality and living through all the many epochs of humanity :

He was dead. His blood slid against the stone floors like thick, oily tar, dark and glimmering in the dim light of the room

The man who had married her was dead

The man who had taken his brother’s wife as though she were a prize, to be owned and inherited, was dead.

The Prophet of Troy was dead, throat split open with a knife in the dead of night, his oracular voice slipping out with the gushes of his crimson-black blood, never to be sounded again

Andromache stumbled back, half out of shock and half with the dizzying rush of absolute TRIUMPH. The bloodied knife slipped from her trembling fingers, a spill of ruined starlight against the dim light cast by the sputtering candle she held in her other hand

A loud clatter sounded out as it hit the ground blade-first, its sharp edge cutting a faint groove in the red-spattered gray of the stone

Helenus didn’t stir. His lips were parted, as though to speak, to wheedle and deceive like he had done so many times before. To Briseis. To her. To all the wives of the sons of Troy.

But no trace of whiny, nasal voice emerged. The prophet was gone, and all at once, a great weight seemed to lift off Andromache’s shoulders, so stunning in its relief that she nearly fell to her knees

But she was a warrior queen of Troy, no matter how much her pride may have been broken in the beds and throne rooms of these Achaeans. And a warrior queen she would remain. Right up to the end

Reaching down, she wrapped her fingers tentatively about the blood-slick knife hilt, lifting it up to stare into its sullied blade, blood dripping off it and rejoining the growing puddle of scarlet below with steady drip-drips that seemed loud as thunderclaps in the stillness of night

Hector, my love, I’m coming

She lifted it high, and prepared to drive it deep into her breast. The knife rose and fell, a glimmering streak of silver, and Andromache braced herself for the sharp stab of pain that was sure to come next

It never came. The broken splinters of the blade clattered against the earth. She stared at the empty, leather-bound hilt of what had once been a knife

Before she could pray, or protest, or do ANYTHING other than stare dumbly as her only hope of salvation was torn away from her, a surge of golden light filled the room. The twang of a bowstring being plucked. The sweet sound of a lyre.

Brilliant, burning eyes in the night. Immaculate lips moving with vindictive hate. A curse being cast from on high

Helenus was a prophet of Apollo. And Apollo, the god who had wrestled his own mortal half-brother to a standstill for insulting one of his seers, had always been protective of his priests

All at once, a sweet voice seems to sound through the room, music personified, with no source and no end, and yet, gratingly, shrilly, unnatural. Too perfect. Too unreal.

There will be no salvation for thee, murderess of my prophet. If death is what thee desire the most, then death will be what I take from thee, now and forever

The myth of Psyche. Mortal made god. The myth of Hyacinthus, and Narcissus, and Heracles. And now, the myth of Andromache - the mortal to whom eternity had come as a curse

She does not know what she did next. She only knows the mouthfeel of the curses spilling from her lips like the last breaths of the man lying beside her, the thudding force her knees impacting the stone floor, her chiton quickly growing wet and dark with her husband’s blood

She remembers the feel of godly magic within her, the way her nails seemed to refuse to find purchase in her flesh, no matter how hard, how desperately, she scratched at her skin.

How ironic, that she be inflicted with the blessing of the very man who had taken everything from her. Akhilleus’ ghost liked its twisted jokes, it seemed

She had heard that he, too, had mourned someone he loved, once. That his life being taken from him had been why he had taken her life from her

But he had died. He had had that, at least, if nothing else. Andromache didn’t even have that. The gods truly hated their Trojan children, it seemed

She stared down at the floor, at the scarlet threads of blood webbing through the cracks and crevices of the stone like the branches of some vast tree, ever-extending, ever-flowering

She had known a tree, once. It had grown in her garden, back in Troy. Her love had planted it for her, with her own two hands.

Ithacan Ulixes, he had told her, had made his wife a bed out of an olive tree. But not even he had GROWN her one.

So he had planted a laurel tree for her, intending to turn it into a bed when it grew old enough. Her love had always been the competitive kind

He had never gotten the chance. He had died before he could. And then, the tree burned. It seemed almost comedic that Ulixes be the one who had caused the fire that consumed it, like one of those Achaean tragedies her father used to tell her about on his knee

Her father, who had fallen when Akhilleus took Cilicia. Along with all her older brothers. That Achaean bastard had truly robbed her of everything, hadn’t he ?

And yet, it wasn’t his fault, either, was it ? Not even Agamemnon’s, if she really allowed herself to admit it. Eyes unclouded by her vengefulness and anger, she could admit that, if anything, the gods had been the ones to twist all of their fates into tangled, frayed threads, and that the blame for it could not, indeed, be laid at the feet of any one mortal

Andromache was not feeling particularly inclined to look past her vengefulness and hate right now, so she simply went back to hating Akhilleus. It seemed safer than hating the gods

Her mind whirred, cold and clinical, refusing to process the gravity of her fate. Andromache had always been a clever one - not just for a women, either, Hector had told her once, just clever. Cleverer than me, even - and all that cleverness was put to work now

Idly, she wondered if trying to climb Mount Olympus and attack Apollo would rid her of the curse, the better to smite her, or if she would just be, like Prometheus, sentenced to an eternity of torment

(Just to be noted - in this book, Andromache is a trans man. The reason I refer to him as she/her here is because he only really DISCOVERS that some time around the 1900s, though he does develop a curiosity about certain aspects of gender androgyny when he visits the Viking lands and learns of their gods)