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lonewolfel · 29 days ago

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Lightning that makes her Kingdom Fall: Chapter 5 - Leaving

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Ares was sitting on Apollo's couch not pouting no matter what Aphrodite, Apollo, or Asclepius say.

"I crushed his enemy for him and this is the thanks I get. He'd rather go to Athena then me," Ares complained.

"They both care for each other," Aphrodite reassured.

"I can care!" Ares exclaimed.

Aphrodite pat his shoulder. "I know love."

"Can you stop whining I'm working here?" Apollo huffed.

He had his lyre in his hands. Apollo was clearly trying to focus on his music instead of his family. Keyword is trying.

"I am not whining," Ares protested.

"Sure," Apollo said.

"Are you even paying attention?" Ares snapped.

"Yeah, lets see one of the mortals that Athena has been following around like a lap dog likes her better than you. Just like everyone else," Apollo said.

Ares stood up. "What does that mean, Song Bird?"

"Simple, like two gods ever liked you. One of them is because you are a good fuck and the other is your mother. Most if they want a war god they go to Athena," Apollo said.

"Well at least I'm not a bastard child like you and your sister," Ares said.

"Guys," Aphrodite tried to break in.

"Oh wow the only thing you have going for you is the fact Father for once fucked his wife," Apollos said.

"If you are just going to bicker then you can leave," Asclepius said.

He looked up from where he was monitoring Athena.

"Exactly," Apollo said.

"I meant both of you," Asclepius said.

"But this is my temple," Apollo said.

"Yes, but you aren't even trying to heal Athena. If you are going to be a distraction then it is for the best that you leave," Asclepius said.

Apollo opened his mouth to argue. He then closed it deciding against it. "Fine then I'm going to hunt with Artemis since my presence isn't appreciated," With that he stormed out of the room.

"Love," Aphrodite said. "You can be a bit intense at times. I know you mean well but you can scare mortals so easily. Perhaps you should try a different approach and maybe not share your rage this time."

"Different approach. I can do that," Ares said. He walked out with a determination that kind of concerned Asclepius.

"How is she?" Aphrodite asked now that it was just the two of them.

"She's stable, everything else we will have to figure out when she awakes," Asclepius said. "I must say I'm shocked that you care. I had been under the impression that you two hate each other."

"Oh, we do," Aphrodite said. "Well we did I'm not sure about now. She just always acted so high and mighty because she was immune to my gifts. I had honestly thought that she was incapable of loving anything at all, but during the games. She loves those humans. I don't want her to die when she was just beginning to understand love."

Aphrodite then stood up. "I should probably check on Hephaestus. He probably thinks that I'm making love to Ares again and we don't want another net incident."

Asclepius turned back to the unconscious Athena. She has made some surprising shock waves through some of the gods. It was both inspiring and concerning.

~~~

It has been a day sense he has left Calypso's island. Odysseus had nothing but smooth sailing which set him on edge. He didn't dare hope that Poseidon after all this time would have given up on killing him. Poseidon had to not know that Odysseus was back at sea which meant that he had to arrive home before Poseidon figures it out.

Selene's chariot was absent in the sky making it more difficult to see. Exhaustion weighed on Odysseus but he didn't dare go to sleep. He knew that sooner or later he would come across a foe and he couldn't be caught unprepared and he had to ensure that he was going the right direction.

Then he felt the water shifting below his raft oddly. Odysseus had to brace himself to stop himself from falling overboard to be dragged down to Poseidon's cold domain. Then he heard a loud roar and saw something glow beneath him.

"Fuck," Odysseus hissed.

It's mouth opened and Odysseus instantly knew what monster it is. Charybdis, the sea monster that sucks in the ocean to catch it's prey and then spits the water back out. It looks like Odysseus was the monster's prey tonight.

It's glow was enough to see the vortex of water being sucked down the ocean. Well Hermes did say that this was going to be dangerous. Odysseus wasn't about to back down or die. After so many years Odysseus has gone too far to be stopped from going home.

Odysseus moved the raft around one of Charybdis' large tooth.

Then an idea struck Odysseus. Eventually, Charybdis is going to have to spit out the water and when it does he can use the blast to escape. The force of it if timed right could shoot him far enough away that he wouldn't have to worry about a repeat performance.

Though all of this was risky. He had to be close enough to the mouth to be hit by the blast but not close enough to be sucked in. The raft got caught in the currents of the whirlpool. Odysseus began to turn the raft to get out of the currents. The force of it turned the raft onto its side sending what supplies Odysseus had gathered flying into the murky depths.

There was a slight pause in the sucking of the water. Odysseus moved to the center of Charybdis' mouth. If he was wrong about it being about to spit out water that meant that Odysseus would become it's food. It turned out that Odysseus had timed it perfectly.

There was a rumble underneath him. The water began to rise rapidly. The raft was shot out of Charybdis' reach. The raft skipped over the water. Odysseus let out a laugh of relief. He had survived one of the tests.

~~~

Telemachus turned around. There stood Mentor one of his father's most loyal guards that remain here in Ithaca.

"Mentor?" Telemachus asked.

"What are you doing here on the docks, my prince?" Mentor asked.

"I'm leaving Ithaca," Telemachus said. "Don't try to persuade me otherwise."

"Very well, follow me," Mentor said.

"Wait what? Where are we going?" Telemachus asked.

Mentor was already walking away. Telemachus quickly began to follow after him.

"I have a ship. If you want to leave Ithaca I can take you to another island," Mentor said.

"Wait are you going with me?" Telemachus asked.

"Of course, prince, I cannot abandon you," Mentor said.

"I'm not a prince anymore," Telemachus said.

"You are," Mentor said. "Do you want the ride?"

Telemachus nodded his head. He followed Mentor to a ship. The ship was setting sail to Pylos. He didn't have any objections to going there.

#epic musical #epic the musical #epic telemachus #epic odysseus #epic apollo #epic aphrodite #epic ares #Asclepius #fan fic #fan fiction

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say-hwaet · 3 months ago

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HIGH SIERRA: A Red Dead Redemption Story

Chapter Seven: Hotshots

Arthur makes a left down another street as he drives the SUV. He's eager to get back to work so that he can look into this second murder with Charles. Something bigger is happening and he has begun to worry. Thomas Downes worked at the homeless shelter with Eliza. What if the second victim did, also? Could that mean philanthropists or church-goers are the targets?

"Daddy?"

Arthur is startled in his seat. He looks in the rear-view mirror and sees Copper's head on Isaac's lap, sleeping peacefully, then meets his son's eyes. "Yes, buddy?"

"Do you think Mommy will let Copper stay the night with us?"

Arthur shrugs. He hates to disappoint his son, but he can at least do it gently. "I gotta take him with me to work in the morning." Looking back at him through the rear-view mirror, he offers a smile. "He's going to be meeting a new friend!"

This seems to get the boy's attention, for his brow lifts and his eyes brighten. "Who?"

"Another K-9." Arthur's phone begins to vibrate again, so he reaches into his pocket to pull it out and struggles for a moment.

"Oh, really?! Can I come see it?" Isaac asks excitedly, unintentionally waking Copper up. The dog lifts his head, licking his lips before he yawns.

Arthur successfully pulls it out and pushes the answer button without reading the Caller ID. "I don't think so, son." He brings the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"You didn't say hello at the party," A soft voice says.

Arthur's body tenses and Isaac notices the shift in his body language. He frowns, worried at what could make his father freeze up. It was the same when his mother would receive bad news from the doctor. "Who's this?" Arthur asks with a low voice.

"Oh, Arthur, don't act like you don't know. It's me."

Arthur swallows thickly. He knows who it is. "Mary."

"See? I knew you'd figure it out," she laughs sweetly.

"How did you get this number?"

"Dutch gave it to me."

You've got to be kidding me, Arthur thinks to himself. After a pause, he speaks into the phone with as little emotion as he can muster. "You never needed it before," Arthur argues.

He can hear the smile in Mary's voice, always soft and sweet, like a siren calling out to Odysseus. "Well, I thought it would make sense, considering we haven't talked since you kissed me that night."

"That's not how it went, and you know it."

He hears her click her tongue. "You're right, but it doesn't really matter who kissed who..."

The hell it does, Arthur grumbles to himself.

But Mary doesn't hear him and continues. "...What matters is that it happened. And...I think that means something, right?"

Arthur doesn't answer.

"I thought you'd find a way to reach me so that we could talk. I...I missed you, Arthur."

He sighs, his left hand still gripping the steering wheel. "It's been a long time, Mary."

"Yes, it has." He can hear something in her voice. An ache. Some kind of recognition of time long gone.

Time that Arthur wants to put behind him. "It's in the past."

"It doesn't have to be."

He takes a quick glance into the rearview mirror again and sees his son looking at him still. He feels a flutter in his chest, and anxiety that he isn't really accustomed to, but it is always when he knows that he could get in trouble. "Do you realize what you're suggesting?" he asks Mary.

"Oh, Arthur, it's not like I am asking you to cheat. Dutch said that you aren't married or in a relationship, is that true?"

Great. Dutch had to butt into this. It isn't anyone's business, and Arthur himself is still trying to figure it out. Mary remains quiet on the line, expecting an answer, and Arthur can't find it in himself to lie. "It's complicated. I also have a son to think about."

"And he's precious, by the way."

And Arthur lets the words come out of his mouth before even thinking about it. "Thank you; takes after his mother."

Mary doesn't answer.

"Hello?" Arthur calls out, and he turns down a street into a suburb. The trees are lined in perfect rows, grass green all around. A woman walks her dog with a baby in a stroller and Arthur can't help but let his mind go back to when Isaac was that small. So innocent and precious.

Those were good times, being a father for the first time. He was so sure of things then, thinking that would be it for his life. A father and a man serving justice in the form of wildlife protection. Little did he know the steps he took would bring him here.

The tone in Mary's voice shifts as she finally answers, mostly into disinterest and boredom, though it seems forced. "I can see that you are busy, so maybe we can meet up somewhere? Bronte's?"

Arthur answers immediately, "No."

"Oh. Right. That's where I...we...broke up."

"Yeah." It was true that is where it happened. Her breaking up with him. She rejecting his proposal. But that isn't the reason he refuses to meet there.

Mary offers another place, her voice with a soft lilt, belying her attempt to keep the topic light. "So, let's meet at Karen's Brew? I can order ahead. Your usual: cappuccino?"

"Black."

"Oh. Right. How does five in the morning sound?"

"Fine." He doesn't have to be at work until 7:30 a.m.

"Perfect. I look forward to it."

"Shoah." He doesn't wait to hang up and lets his phone fall on the passenger seat next to him.

"Daddy?" Isaac finally speaks, settling the exciting Copper in his lap once again.

Arthur gathers himself a minute before answering, his eyes returning to the road. "Yeah?"

"Who is Mary?"

"Shoot–" he mutters. There was no way that he could hide that conversation. He doesn't want to appear deceitful or shady, anyway. But Isaac is observant, a sponge. Anything he comes across it is bound to come out of his mouth, and reach Eliza's ears. He shrugs and lightly shakes his head at an attempt to make it all seem irrelevant. "She's nobody, son. Just an old friend."

"Does Dutch know her? He says he knows everybody."

Regrettably, Dutch happens to know just about everyone, including her. "Yes, he does know her."

"Does Mommy?"

"Sort of."

Isaac crosses his arms, his brow pinching and his eyes looking intently into the rear-view mirror. "How come everybody knows everyone, but me? I wish I knew more people."

Arthur smiles at his son's disgruntled thought, happy to start a shift in subjects. "You're still young, and as you grow older, you'll meet lots of new people."

"So, I might get to meet Mary?"

Arthur thinks for a minute, his face relaxing as he looks back in the rear-view mirror once more. "Maybe."

***

Eliza hears a car pull into the driveway and turns off the TV. The news has been filled with updates on the two hunting accidents that were reported this morning. She is filled with sadness; Thomas was an acquaintance of hers, and they worked together at the soup kitchen in the homeless shelter. When he didn't show up on Saturday, she didn't think anything had happened, but she should have known better. He never missed the opportunity to help people. Maybe that's what would have saved him. She never knew him to go hunting, so it surprised her to learn of his death and that it was a hunting accident. And now that there's another accident, it only makes her worry more. Is that what Arthur was talking about on Friday? What did he think actually happened? Her curiosity is piqued.

Looking out the window, she sees Arthur getting out of his SUV and Isaac letting himself out of the back. She rises from the couch and heads to the door.

Arthur goes to the trunk to get Isaac's bag, leaving the treatment kit inside. Isaac starts to run to Eliza, but Arthur calls him back. "Come get your bag, Partner!" He lifts it in a coaxing gesture.

"Oops!" Isaac turns back around and runs back to Arthur. He takes his bag and once it is hoisted on his back, he gives Arthur a tight hug. "Bye, Dad."

Arthur leans down and pecks his son on top of his peach-fuzz head, careful to avoid the scar. "Bye, partner. I'll see ya later, okay?"

"Okay." Isaac runs back towards Eliza, who looks at Arthur and waves. He smiles gently and waves awkwardly back and her heart flitters for a second. She wants to ask him about what she saw on TV, but he isn't walking over. He's keeping his distance, literally and figuratively.

Keep your distance, Eliza, she tells herself.

When he reaches her, Isaac wraps his arms around his mother, looking up at her with a glimmer in his eyes. "Mommy! Guess what?"

She looks down at him, her eyes soft and loving and she careeses Isaac's cheek with her thumb and forefinger. Her heart warms at her son, her baby. She'd die for him, give him her brain if he could use it. He would do more good with it than what she's managed, she figures, though she will never share her thoughts out loud. "What, baby?"

"Dad says that I'll get to meet some new friends!"

She blinks. "Oh?"

"Yeah, he says I'll meet Mary!"

Eliza immediately looks up at Arthur, wide-eyed. He must have heard him, for he has a surprised look on his face.

Arthur steps forward, holding out his hand and shaking his head fervently. "Now, Isaac, that's not what–"

"There's no need to explain," Eliza interrupts. "Drive safe, Arthur." Eliza backs up and guides Isaac toward the house.

"Now wait there–" Arthur doesn't get the chance to try to stop her, for they quickly head inside and she closes the door. He stops himself and curses under his breath. "God d--." Walking back to the driver's side of his car, he gets into the driver's seat with a heavy motion and quickly slaps the steering wheel in frustration. "That's great. Just great." He puts the car in drive and checking that Copper is secured, he backs out of Eliza's driveway and heads home.

Eliza remains at the door while Isaac goes to his room to unload his things. She sighs. That is it then. Arthur is moving on with his life. Whether Isaac is meeting Mary soon or not, he is making steps toward what he wants. She just didn't expect it to be so soon.

She wants to be angry, but she can't. It was what they had talked about. But she can't help it. She is sad. Jealous. Jealous of a woman who had him once and lost him by choice. It was her loss, she doesn't get to deserve a man like Arthur, especially after all that he and Eliza have been through.

Her lips quiver. "It's not fair," she whispers, hugging herself. "It's not fair."

***

Monday arrives early as Arthur walks into the coffee shop. He was surprised that Mary wanted to meet him at such an hour. His palms are sweaty and he tries to indiscreetly wipe his hands on his pant legs, feeling more like a fool for even coming here. He didn't bother to wear casual clothing, sticking to his uniform. He looks around. There aren't many people inside at this hour, and the smell of coffee and something sweet fills his nostrils.

Then suddenly he hears her call for him. "Arthur!"

He jumps. Following the direction of the sound, he sees her, sitting in a booth in the corner of the cafe. Mary has her dark hair in a low bun with the same string of pearls around her smooth neck. She wears a floral print dress and pink lipstick, making her cheeks look rosy. Her dark eyes peer into his and she smiles. He grins shyly and walks over to her table.

"You came," she sighs.

He snorts, raising a brow. "You thought I wouldn't?"

He can see her looking at him up and down, and he feels like a bacteria under a microscope. Her lip turns upward at the corner and she rests her head in her hand once her elbow is propped on the table. "Well, you hardly seemed enthusiastic over the phone."

Arthur's brow pinches and his eyes narrow at her ignorance. "Was I supposed to? You caught me off guard, and I was with my son."

Mary then closes her eyes, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm sorry for the surprise, I forgot you don't like them," she responds, not acknowledging the part about his son.

"I don't mind them, just not in situations like these," he grumbles in reply.

"Oh. Well, I'm still sorry." She pushes a coffee cup in his direction with two manicured fingers. "I promise this won't be a surprise, though. It's black."

He eyes it for a moment, and then relents, sitting down in the seating across from her. After another moment, he takes the cup, bring sit to his mouth and sips it slowly. It isn't a bad cup of joe. Eearthy, rich, and with some grounds from the bottom. Cowboy coffee. The way he used to drink it when backpacking with Hosea as a boy. "Yep. It is. Thanks."

Mary seems to like his approval and her smile broadens. "You're welcome."

Bringing the cup away from his lips, he notices an odd pop of color on its side. Turning it in his hand, he sees a large, red sticker that reads:

THE OUTLAWS ARE ON TOUR! PEEL TO WIN THE CHANCE TO WATCH THEM PERFORM LIVE!

His brow pinches and he leans back in his seat, eyeing the sticker with an odd curiosity once he recognizes the band's name. "What the–?"

“Isn't it great? It was my idea." Mary leans into the table, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

But he's still on the part about winning a chance to see them on tour. "Huh?"

He points to the cup with her forefinger. "The sticker? Karen, the owner of this brewery and coffee shop, is Sean MacGuire's girlfriend. I reached out to her to see if she'd help the band and her business. Every tall coffee that is sold comes with that sticker. Peel it to see if you won a ticket!"

Arthur shakes his head, setting the cup down. "My best friend is the leader of the band. If I want a ticket, I could just go to his garage and hear Abigail complain about the noise."

Mary clicks her tongue, tilting her head at him. She always has given him that look when she wants to sweet talk him, or change his mind. It used to be their way of teasing each other. "Oh, Arthur. That is beneath you. They're really a great band!"

Arthur chuckles, finding himself more at ease. "Yeah, you're right, they are."

"And they're not performing in a garage anymore. Just peel it."

He turns the cup and finds one of the corners. Peeling it back slowly, the underside of the sticker is revealed.

UH OH! TRY AGAIN TO SEE IF YOU WIN!

Arthur snorts and turns it for Mary to see. She laughs. "Well, if everyone won a ticket, that wouldn't be much fun, would it?"

"Fun for whom?" He takes another sip of his coffee.

A silence falls between them. Arthur holds onto his cup and digs his fingernails into its paper cozy to give himself something to do. "Why are we here, Mary?" he finally asks.

She tucks some hair behind her right ear and leans forward. He can smell her perfume, an aroma of vanilla sugar, the same fragrance she wore twelve years ago. Does she know what’s she’s doing? Mary never was one to do things without a purpose a motive. Good or bad, she was driven, and that was one of the things that Arthur liked most about her. "I've missed you, Arthur. I didn't realize how much until that night. We hadn't seen each other in so long, but I have always thought of you."

She does know what she’s doing. While it drudges up old memories, Arthur can’t help but feel like he’s being manipulated, his weaknesses exploited to suit her angle. "Did your husband know that?"

She sits back. her brow furrowed and gaze soft but intense. "That's an awful thing to say."

He shrugs unapologetically. "Well, I mean no disrespect to him. I just think it would be cruel to love someone else while you are committed to another person."

"That's funny, coming from you."

He looks up at her, feeling himself bristle. "What?"

"That Eliza seemed pretty angry with you. Are you sure you're not in a relationship with her?" Mary confidently asks. Arthur detects a flash of superiority in her tone, and it makes him angry.

"You seemed pretty confident I wasn't when you called me yesterday. If you thought that, why did you still want to meet with me? You expected me to cheat on her while your husband isn't even cold in his grave?" He lets his words sink in long enough for him to lean back and drink more of his coffee.

Mary's face remains stoic, but her nostrils flare in an effort to hold back tears. The tension between her and Arthur is palpable, their emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. A heavy sigh escapes from Arthur's lips, a mixture of frustration and resignation. He doesn’t want to do this again. That isn’t why he is here.

"I'm sorry, Mary. I don't know what I was expecting. I guess I still haven't forgotten how I felt when you left me." He wants to be honest with her. If anything comes out of this conversation, he wants it to be honest.

"That means you still care about me, Arthur,” Mary says softly, a smile reappearing on her lips.

"Does it?" he says half-jokingly. As they sit there in silence, the weight of their unspoken feelings hangs heavy in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been and what may still be possible.

"Of course, it does." She reaches her hand out and places it on top of his. Her touch is gentle and soft. His mind goes back to when they used to sit at Bronte's together after college classes were done, holding hands and staring at each other without saying a word. He thinks back on those memories with an ache, but they are still vivid. "And I care about you," she adds softly.

After a moment, Arthur gently pulls his hand back. "I think you're still mourning over your husband, Mary. It ain't the right way to go about this."

Mary sighs and begins to play with her pearl necklace. "He was sick for a long time, Arthur. I've had plenty of time to grieve. I...I want to move on with my life," she states matter-of-factly.

Arthur points his index finger into the table, as though it were a representation of everything that this is built upon. "Even if you want this, I need time to think about it. I need space. I have a son to think about."

Mary almost rolls her eyes. She knows how she feels and it seems ridiculous to delay the inevitable. She closes her eyes instead, nodding her head. "Alright. I'll leave it for now. How long do you need?"

Arthur has always known that Mary was impatient and passionate about what she wanted. After all, that is what drew him to her when they were young. She wanted adventure, away from the stuck-up noses and pretense that her father wanted her to be around. In fact, if she hadn't pushed her father to let her stay in public school, Arthur would never have met her. She had drive and a sense of morality that other girls didn't seem to have when they were teens, which is why they had never been intimate with one another. Mary wanted to wait until marriage, and Arthur respected that. He thought it was worth the wait if it meant he could be with her forever.

Now, as adults, those things seem to make her more demanding and selfish. Perhaps it is just that she is too eager and really loves Arthur, but it is too fast for him.

He leans back in his seat, feeling defensive. "Don't rush me, Mary."

And she must sense this, for she tries to reach out to him, but stops herself. She looks down, her body going rigid. "I'm sorry. I just...I know what I want. I thought it would be an easier decision than this."

His voice comes out firm, direct. "Well, it isn't. I need time."

She sighs and softens her expression, smiling. "Alright, Arthur."

Arthur looks at his watch. He still has time to get to work, but the conversation doesn't need to continue. He made his point and doesn't want to convey any other ideas to Mary for staying. Sliding out of hte booth’s seating, he goes to stand up. "I should go. Copper is in the car, and there are some things I need to do before work."

"It isn't to see her, is it?"

Arthur looks at Mary, eyebrows furrowed. He would rather she leave Eliza out of this. If she wants something with him, she will need to watch how she refers to his son’s mother. "No."

"Oh." Her expression lightens, clearly relieved to hear the answer. "So work then? I heard about those hunting accidents. It's awful!"

"Yes, it is." He decides not to tell her of his own suspicions. It's not relevant to her, anyway. He takes his empty coffee cup from the table with the intent to throw it away on his way out. "Bye, Mary."

"Will you call me soon?" she asks eagerly.

"Maybe."

He walks out without looking back.

***

Walking into the conference room with Copper, Arthur finds Charles. He sees that the new K-9 isn't with him, so it must be not here, yet. Charles turns to see him and eagerly waves him over.

"How goes it?" Arthur asks quietly as he sits down beside him.

"It's been tense while you've been gone."

And skipping any formalities, Arthur leans close and asks the real questions. "So, who found the body?"

Charles is quiet.

Arthur’s eyes widen at the realization. "You?"

"Mmhmm," Charles affirms.

Arthur smirks. "Lucky you."

But Charles isn’t amused. Even if this were just a regular day, it has never been easy to get Charles to laugh. "Not lucky."

"Why?”

"It doesn't look good when one of us happens to find both bodies within two days of each other. Doesn't that sound suspicious to you?"

Arthur thinks about it. He was right. If the SOU were to change their minds in the direction of murder, Charles, and even Arthur, could become suspects. "This isn't good, Charles."

Charles rests his arms on the table, looking down at his folded hands. "You're telling me."

"But the second one wasn't even at an actual campsite. How do we explain that?"

Charles shrugs his shoulders, still looking at his hands. "I don't know, but it can't just be a coincidence, right?"

Arthur shakes his head and scratches his chin. Something in his gut tells him that something isn’t lining up. It is clear that the first death isn’t an accident, but they need more to go on. "I don't think so. I want to treat it as though they are connected; we don't want to get complacent."

Charles turns to look back at him and he lowers his voice, still showing a hint of frustration. "They didn't let me linger to investigate the site. So whatever was there is gone now."

"Did the ground look the same?"

Charles nods. "That I could see, but I couldn't find any broken branches. They might have figured out another way to do it."

"If it is the same person who killed Downes," Arthur deduces.

"Maybe."

"Have you talked to Captain Monroe?"

Charles shakes his head. "No. He didn't seem to believe us the first time."

"I don't know. He seemed interested."

"But he literally sent you home so you wouldn't investigate," Charles says, reminding Arthur of the whole ordeal and the camping trip he had planned but fell through.

He only sighs. "True, and now we have this next body. Do you know who the victim is?"

"They're reaching out to the family for confirmation, then they will tell us. So at least there was a physical ID on the body."

Arthur pats his hands on the table, leaning back into his seat. "Well, I didn't get much sleep over this. Eliza helps to volunteer at the same place that Downes did."

"Who's Eliza again?"

"My...” Arthur pauses, swallowing thickly. “Isaac's mother."

"Right. So she knew him?"

"I think so. It's a small world we live in."

"Yeah, and the country is getting smaller."

As much as he hates to admit it, Charles is right. It seems that as the years go on, there seems to be more metal and concrete than trees and sky. His eyes fall and he feels his shoulders droop. "Indeed."

As Charles is about to say more, Captain Monroe comes in for a debriefing. All in attendance stand at attention. "Good morning, please be seated."

They all sit down.

After setting some portfolios on the table in front of him, Captain Monroe places his hands behind his back, regarding the men and women who sit before him. "I want to be brief. There has been a lot going on these past couple of days. On top of the two accidental deaths, there are fires starting in small areas that surround the scenes.” He then looks down at the portfolios, opening the first one and seeming to read the first page. “To help prevent these fires from spreading and to prevent new ones from starting up, we will be aiding the Forestry Service in performing controlled burns. Our High Sierra Fire Department has been working with the Forestry Service in this endeavor, and we will be under them."

Charles and Arthur look at each other.

"We will be starting the task tomorrow,” Monroe continues. “I have here with me two members of the Hotshot Crew who will be taking on two teams." He looks at Charles. "Warden Smith, you will be remaining behind for the first few days, as your K-9 has just arrived. You'll need to begin your work with her."

Charles nods. "Understood."

"Morgan, you, Whethers, and Holmes, will be under the supervision of Company Lieutenant Officer Adler. Smith, you will be going with them, later."

That name rings a bell in Arthur's mind. Arthur had helped the fire department last year with controlled burns. That usually means this is more serious, as the fire department is already full of staff and even volunteers. He gestures off to his right, and a man and women dressed in HSFD uniforms come up to the front. Arthur then recognizes the woman. She looks stern, with her blonde hair in a tight French braid and freckles scattered all over her face.

Sadie Adler: the no-funny-business woman that has earned her position by hard work and saving lives like the best of them. She has earned the respect of everyone who bears a badge and has been a great boasting point for her husband, who is an EMT. Saving lives was the Adler family business.

Captain Monroe continues with his orders. "Strong, Cross, and Kilgore, you'll go with Company Lieutenant Officer MacFarlane."

Standing next to Sadie Adler is Patrick MacFarlane, whom Arthur vaguely remembers. His family is known for having one of the most prosperous cattle ranches in the state. Patrick is overly polite, but no one has ever dared to get on his bad side. Mrs. Adler and Mr. MacFarlane are clearly a force to be reckoned with.

Captain Monroe regards the men and women in his company once more. "Now, before you all leave today, meet with your team leader. We will be working with them, so make sure that you know who to report to when you begin assisting them. Those of you who have not been assigned, you'll remain on your regular assignments. That is all."

Captain Monroe gestures for Charles to follow him out.

"I guess I go meet my new partner," Charles says to Arthur as he rises out of his chair.

Arthur nods and gives him a casual salute. "Yep, I'll see you in a bit."

The wardens begin to move about the room. Lieutenant Adler steps forward, her face as stern as ever. All business and no bull. "Those with me come to this side of the room," she firmly instructs, moving to her left. Arthur and the remaining members of their team stand up and move. She sees Arthur and smirks. "Corporal Morgan. We meet again."

Arthur nods. "Hello, Lieutenant Adler."

She snorts, letting herself smile, a rare occurrence in her presence. "You can call me Sadie. You've earned that after last year."

Arthur raises his brow, grinning. "I'm flattered."

"Good," she snorts. "You should be."

Arthur chuckles. He can see them becoming good friends.

The rest of the team moves to the table where Sadie has remained. They wait for directions and she pulls out a map from her back pocket. She unfolds it and spreads it out on the table. Arthur stands next to her, arms crossed, and looks at the map.

"Take a look, boys." She points to a highlighted area on the map. "This is where we've tracked the recent fires. They aren't big, yet, but they're around largely popular areas. To avoid people being burned alive at camp, we are going to begin controlled burns here, here, and here. We will eventually join up with MacFarlane more westward, hopefully creating a larger barrier."

The men nod, understanding the assignment.

"We will all remain together,” she continues. “We don't want to risk our burns spreading. This is not the time to split up. You will also be wearing heavy equipment, as you all know. You will be putting that training to use for once." She pauses and regards the men surrounding her. "So, any questions?"

Everyone responds with subtle shakes of their heads. Either they understand it perfectly or are just to darn intimidated to say anything, lest they look like idiots.

She rises from bending over the map, nodding approvingly. "Alright, then. Be prepared to meet at the entrance of Redwood Falls at 6:00 a.m. It's going to get hot."

"Yes, ma'am," the men answer in unison.

Without anything further to say, Sadie folds up the map and turns to leave.

Arthur then remembers that Redwood Falls was the location of the second death. He wonders if he will get the chance to see it.

Arthur watches Sadie go meet up with Patrick MacFarlane who has also just finished informing his group. They share a few words and then leave the conference room.

Seeing that nothing else is needed to be done, Arthur picks up Copper's leash and tugs it gently. Copper rises to his feet and they go to find Charles at the kennels, though empty they are.

He enters the kennels and sees the back door leading to the fenced-in yard is open. He walks past the kennels and soon hears a noise outside. When he reaches the doorway, he sees Charles with his new dog: a female Belgian Malinois. A difficult, but sturdy breed. It surprises Arthur, for the Belgian Malinois is intended for more dangerous and aggressive work. Was she selected by choice, or by availability?

Charles is already beginning to work with her. He has her start in between his legs, and when he backs up, she follows him, looking up at him expectantly.

"She's taken with you, Charles," Arthur grins.

Charles looks up and she follows his gaze to see Arthur and Copper. She comes out from between his legs, stands firm, and watches them intently, ears perked and forward.

"Molasses,” Charles calls, then follows up with a command. “Free."

As she approaches Arthur, her body loosens and she trots over to him, her pace light and carefree. He extends his hand for her to sniff, and she does so with curiosity. Copper watches Molasses closely, his tail wagging excitedly. After giving Arthur a once-over, Molasses turns her attention to Copper and they greet each other with sniffs and wags. Her tail begins to sway back and forth in a happy rhythm, her ears perked up in interest. Copper playfully bows before the two dogs start to chase each other around the yard. As they run and play, their movements are full of joy and freedom, creating a lighthearted scene in the afternoon sunlight.

"That was the easiest exchange between two dogs that I have ever seen," Arthur expresses with a chortle.

"It makes things easier, doesn't it?" Charles asks while rolling up her leash.

"Let's just hope she isn't as friendly to poachers."

"Or murderers."

They look at each other for a minute, and Arthur looks around to see if anyone is nearby. Seeing the coast is clear, he is still cautious, for he walks closer to Charles and lowers his voice. "You think there will be more?"

"Let's hope not, but two deaths in quick succession, there could be a pattern."

Arthur nods, glad that they are on the same page. "That's what I was thinking."

"I wish we could go back and bring the dogs."

After a moment, Arthur lowers his voice, a plan brewing in his mind. "Maybe we can."

Charles looks at Arthur with a clear interest, his gaze intensifying. "What do you mean?"

"Mrs. Adler is leading our team."

Charles blinks. "Who?"

"Sorry. Lieutenant Adler. She's on the Hotshot Crew–pretty well up there on the chain of command and part of the highest-skilled firefighters."

Charles grins. "She sounds like a tough one."

"She is. She ain't no one to mess with."

"I wonder what her husband is like then."

Arthur smiles to himself, they had also met. "You'd be surprised. Total opposite. Big softie."

"Really?" Charles asks, amused at their contrast in personalities.

"Yep.”

The moment ebbing away, Charles returns to the topic at hand. "So, how much time will you be spending up there?"

"Until we burn a perimeter,” Arthur answers. “That could take a good couple of weeks."

"When I join you, hopefully, we can uncover something."

"I was hoping sooner than that."

Charles rests a hand on his waist, shifting the weight of his body onto one foot. "What do you have in mind?"

Arthur has a determined expression on his face, confident to share what he’s been thinking as they both have been standing here. "I am hoping to get some inside information, so I might need some help."

"Help? From who?"

And Arthur feels it in his gut as he answers, a hesitancy, as though he’s about to get himself into deeper trouble. "Someone who probably hates my guts right now."

This one was a bit longer. Thank you for reading!

Tag Requests

@photo1030 @moeitsu @cassietrn

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #fanfiction #arthur morgan #ao3 writer #arthur x eliza #murder mystery story #Charles and Arthur are dynamic duo #Isaac is a cutie pie #the plot thickens…#Sadie Adler is a firefighter

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johaerys-writes · 8 months ago

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I love disasters!AU so so so sooooo much. It added ten more years to my life expectancy. I wish to see your writings forever, if possible.

Anyway, I have a question! How old are Patroclus and Achilles in 2024, roughly? I assumed they'd be in their late 30s or early 40s by now, and wanted to make sure.

And do you have any hcs about them in their 20s, 30s and 40s that you don't mind sharing? Like, are they still together? I goddamn hope they are. What do they do for a living? What are their relationships with their parents and friends? Any hc would be sooo welcome! Have a nice day!

First of all, I love you for sending this ask dear anon 🫶 Any opportunity to talk about my favourite boys adds ten years to my lifespan LOL don't mind if I do

So the age question is kind of tricky because you're a walking disaster and yet- isn't set during a specific time period. Like the Phthia years have a 90s vibe, and the Athens years have a late 90s-early/00s vibe, but I never really had a specific year in mind. It's just vibes mostly lol. But like, assuming we start in the 90s, then I think in 2024 they'd be late 30s, early 40s. And of COURSE they're together, haha. I honestly don't see these two separating at all in that AU, not even as a joke. They're each other’s ride or die and I'm not saying it's exactly healthy (oops 🤣🫣), but I highlyyyy doubt either Achilles or Pat would even consider the possibility of taking a break.

As far as jobs and studies go, Achilles finishes his Architecture major in Athens, then probably does an internship in an architectural firm while Patroclus works part time as an usher in a small theatre and also as a theatre production assistant whenever the opportunity arises, helping making props and procuring materials and generally just running errands for the crew and the director lol. Then they move abroad for Achilles to do a masters degree (in their mid/late 20s?), I was thinking probably Italy, and Patroclus of course follows him. After a bunch of coaxing and convincing, Patroclus accepts Peleus' offer to pay for his studies as well, so the two of them spend a couple really lovely years just studying and travelling Italy and seeing all the sights and eating ALL the food and gelatto etc, and generally having the best of times. And then eventually they come back to Athens where Achilles opens up his own architectural firm (with daddy's help ofc), and Patroclus does his PhD in dramaturgy and starts teaching shortly after (hot professor Pat PLS 😩🤲)

As for the relationship with their parents and friends: they both have a really good relationship with Peleus, better than they did when they were younger. Turns out now that they're older Peleus is great for taking them to expensive restaurants and teaching them about wine and stuff, or taking them on boatrides (with his divorce mini yacht LMAO). Thetis is also in Athens and Achilles does see her often, most times on his own, sometimes with Patroclus. Pat and Thetis are not besties by any means but they get along for the most part. But I still don't think Pat ever truly warms up to her tbh, and Achilles doesn’t push it.

They still often go to Phthia for the holidays so they see Ajax & co, Menelaus and Agamemnon both stayed in Phthia as well so they see them too. Odysseus returns from time to time but they lose contact with him after several years. Dio and Briseis do actually get back together after college for a couple of years, but it just doesn't work out unfortunately, much to Diomedes' disappointment 😅

So yes Achilles and Pat are definitely together by the time they're 40, definitely living together, definitely have amassed an army of dogs at this point haha. Like shortly after the main fic ends they get another dog, and by the time Laika sadly passes away, they already have at least a couple more. And it just snow balls from there. Eventually they move into a bigger place with a yard somewhere in the northern suburbs of Athens, and they just have their cosy little life with their dogs and their vast collection of books, and it's just really really nice for them :')

#listen i just want them to be happy and well #they've been through so much they deserve all that slow love and healing and growth #just growing old together 🥹 and still being sappy idiots #i love them i love them #i'm not crying you're crying #patrochilles #disasters au

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tamaruaart · 10 months ago

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YOU

*points nerf gun*/j

DROP SOME FUN FACTS ABT YUELIANG NOW‼️

@lallxrona <33

OKAY OKAY PUT THE GUN DOWN MAN- /j

-He's immortal but mentally he's the age of Mk, Red Son, Mei and Quanshuǐ

-He once asked a Jade Maiden how to work on his personality so more people like him, and she suggested that he takes care of a plant so he learns how to be more responsible and calming. However his plant died in the span of 4 days, and he kept this going for like 3 months till he eventually gave up 😔

-Very sleepy, wakes up at like 2 in the afternoon-

-Strangely very good with animals, except dogs, he has a very strange fear of dogs-

-despite being the son of Chang'e he has no clue how to cook.

-Very, very, very, VERY fast

-During jttw he served to occasionally deliver messages to Tripitaka and the pilgrims, and to deliver their messages to the other deities (think how Hermes came to help Odysseus sometimes in the Odyssey)

-He can sing but he doesn't

-6.0 feet, ONE inch taller than Zhao but you know damn well he rubs it in her face

-Pansexual :>

-His favorite animals are rabbits and Blue Pansy butterflies

-He nicknames people as if there's no tomorrow (so examples: Zhao- Tiger Lily, Quanshuǐ- Blossom, Nezha- Buttercup, Red Son- Bull Boy, Princess Iron Fan- Iron Maiden, Azure Lion- Goldilocks etc...)

-He absolutely hates walnuts, thinks they taste like wood

-Despite being very childish he is very, very, very, very, very bad with children.

-He tried eating mud when he first arrived to Earth

-ADHD go brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

-He considers Quanshuǐ as his best buddie :)

-Once he found out people get payed to run a marathon he pretended to be a mortal for like a month and absolutely demolished everyone in the race.

-Visits Chang'e every weekend and binges Cooking with Chang'e every Wednesday

-He's actually considered really beautiful for a male spirit since most have very animalistic and masculine features

-If I had to compare him to a certain lyric it would be:

Don't give them your name, you don't have one. (Wait for me: Hadestown)

-Contrary to popular belief, despite having some very depressing trauma he's pretty carefree

-Knows all the Celestial Warriors on a first name basis

-The Jade Emperor and Lao Tzu are his number 1 haters

-Him and Pigsy fangirl about Chang'e whenever he comes to visit MK, Pigsy finds him a bit annoying but is generally a bit softer than others are (bcz Dadsy canon-).

and ye- glad you like this lil fella :>

#lmk oc #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #jttw oc #lego monkie kid oc #monkie kid oc #lmk #oc #lmk oc; yueliang

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margindoodles2407 · 1 year ago

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Margin's Links (AND ZELDAS!) Incorrect Quotes pt 2: Electric Boogaloo- Zelink Edition

By the way, if you've got any questions about who's who, I can answer them! If you've been around my blog for very long you should recognize most of them, but some- like Fractal and Radiance- I barely every talk about. Normally I'd post a list here but this post is going to be long as it is. Enjoy the quotes!

Young Sonata: My future husband must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. Young Orpheus: *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to his knees and sob while apologizing profusely* Young Sonata: That one. I want that one.

Tetra: Since we're in a relationship now, yer clothes are my clothes too. Don' ask me why I have yer tunic on, this is our tunic. Awakener: Fine, but when I come struttin' in with yer mum's bandanna I don' wanna hear it.

Tetra: BE A BETTER PERSON! Awakener: WHY?! Tetra: BECAUSE SOMEONE NEEDS TO HAVE MORALS IN THIS RELATIONSHIP, AND IT SURE AS HECK AIN'T GONNA BE ME, SWEETHEART!

Forger: We’re getting married, suckas! Goddess: And we're about to make it everybody else's problem!

Eos: I used to be very reserved about it, but I've been dropping him rather obvious hints for almost a year now. No response. Dawnbringer: Wow. He sounds stupid. Eos: But he's not. He's quite smart actually. Just... dense. Dawnbringer: Maybe you need ta be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!” Eos: I guess you’re right. Link, I love you. Dawnbringer: See! Jus' say that! Eos: Holy Golden Three. Dawnbringer: If that flies over his head then, sorry Zel, but he's too dumb fer you. Eos: Link.

*fleeing the castle segment of ALttP* vvvv

Odysseus, trying to flirt: So, you come around here often? Visionary, confused: I mean, this is my castle, so yeah.

Luminary: Hey, random question, what are your favorite flowers? Sunshine: Silent Princess, why? Luminary: Sunshine: Were you going to get me flowers? Luminary: Sunshine: Luminary: ᶦᵗ’ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢˢᶦᵇᶦˡᶦᵗʸ

Goddess: My hands are cold. Forger: Here, let me hold them. Goddess: My lips are cold too. Forger: *covers Goddess's mouth with his hand*

Luminary: Zelda and I are no longer dating. Sunshine: Link, that’s a horrible way of telling people we’re married.

Phantasma: Link, you love me, right? Engineer: Normally I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere I won’t like.

Radiance: Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time? Fractal: AS ENEMIES?! Radiance:

Graffiti: Did you know you remind me of all 26 letters of the alphabet? Iconography: What? Like J F K W S Q X- Graffiti: No, like, U R A Q T. Iconography: Awwww!

Sunshine: Hey, about that love letter you sent me- Luminary: *blushes* What are your thoughts? Sunshine: The fourth sentence- Luminary: Yeah, that’s where I got really emotional and I- Sunshine: It’s “you’re”, not “your”.

Valkyrie: That was so sweet, Link. Paladin: I literally called the guy who just flirted with you a degenerate dog and told him I hope he gets dragged through the streets. Valkyrie: I'm so in love with you.

Dawn: The stars are so beautiful... Genesis: They're just giant balls of gas. Dawn: You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then- Genesis: And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you. Dawn: Oh...

Adult Timeline!Orpheus: I don't know how to tell you this, but... I love you. Adult Timeline!Sonata: That's great, Link. Especially considering the fact we've been married for 6 years.

Odysseus: You're pretty and you're smart, and you're ignoring me so you're obviously my type. Visionary, who was distracted: I'm sorry- what were you saying? Odysseus: Perfect.

#margin's links #incorrect quotes #memes #zelink my beloved

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luimagines · 1 year ago

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*walks on in tiredly, hands you a mug of hot chocolate and a basket filled with cake to match, does not elaborate* Hey there, just passing on by to wish you a nice day, hopefully things have been well for you and if not, may your days brighten soon for you surely brighten a lot of people's days ^^

Not really much to say today because my brain is too tired and sleep deprived but yelling about your writing shall come eventually xD, as for assumptions, hm...

Likes The Legend of Zelda obviously, favorite game is probably a tie between Twilight Princess, Ocarina of Time and or Majora's Mask and Skyward Sword, possibly one of them was your first game too.

Really kind and patient person, though quite clever too and talented given your merch, you have a lot of asks and presumably a lot on your plate but still manage to answer as many as possible and don't mind people rambling here about different concepts or series and also write with a good degree of frequency, also quite firm to put your foot down when you're not okay with something, not in a bad way! More in a fair sense, and willing to offer an ear or empathy if someone's having a hard time, not many people can do that while keeping a level head.

Very cozy? The type of person who's very comfortable to be around in a sense, the type you think is really cool even if you only interacted once, but definitely the type someone might feel shy when actually approaching to interact or who might not go through with talking with as a result of said ahyness, plus your writing really makes my day some times, specially during bad ones, nothing better than suddenly find out you posted and reading through it with a mug of coffee or a cup of tea while my dog is curled up nearby, specially after some tiring days. Like a warm cappuccino cup with a book on an autumn afternoon if you will.

So over all someone who's doing their best and who anyone would be lucky to be friends with really ^^

Also Twilight is definitely one of your favorite Links, I have no idea who the runner up to him could be (possibly Time, because we all are simply Circe and Calypso when in the face of that man who'd give Odysseus a run for his money), but you can definitely talk about him for a long time and as a Twilight enjoyer that delights me a lot XD

Anyway, not really much to say besides that which likely has not been said before, so once again, thank you for all your work in the fandom, for inspiring me a d of course I hope you have many nice days and nights ahead of you!

-Just a Tired Anon on a Stroll/WintertimeStoryteller 🐚

Actually nope on the game guess. XD

I've been in the fandom for a while, but I've only played my first LoZ game back in 2020 and it was Breath of the Wild. ^.^*

My merch?..... My merch!??!... Like my shop? XD

Goodness, I've associated that word with like... youtubers and stuff with their own brands and such. It hit me like a truck until I remembered the full meaning of the word. Whoops-

(I do try to patient no matter the person/circumstance DX I'm glad it comes off that way.)

Cozy is the probably the highest compliment I've ever received from anyone ever. I gotta hang that up somewhere.

Twilight is one of my favorites, yes.... and also very quickly followed by Time. -.-

I realize that I am not subtle in that at all. XD

And you're an incredible individual as well. <3

I hope your days and nights are pleasant and darling. I love your rambles and long asks XD

#pinky replies #pinky answers #this was very sweet and a lovely surprise to find in my inbox <3 #I'm still on that wild west story you're teasing me with #Don't think I've forgotten ;-)

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dootznbootz · 1 year ago

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Don't be sorry that it's long! I love this stuff! THIS IS FUN FOR MY NERDY ASS!

That could all be true but the suitors have only been there for 3 years, making Argos around 17 when they first started leeching off the Ithican royalty. Which is still VERY old for a dog and he definitely could not be a hunting dog anymore. And then that also makes me ask What about those 17 years then? Was it Laertes? Before he exiled himself to the hut to work on the fields? Was it Eumaeus? And now with the suitors taking the fattest of the hogs every day, he's being somewhat overworked/overwhelmed and he hasn't been able to take care of him? Penelope and Telemachus? Before the suitors basically bullied them into house arrest?

I'm very sure Homer added Argos as another show of A.) Look how long he's been gone. and B.) "Odysseus was beloved by all".

If it's true that he was completely abandoned, with no one to care for him, (he would not be able to hunt for himself at this point, he couldn't even really stand, the poor pup.) he wouldn't be able to eat. That's very very unlikely that Argos could live like that. While the gods do have influence and this story is technically Fiction, I don't think Athena was thinking about his dog. So he most likely, at least for the first 17 years, had someone to care for him. Who it was we don't know.

Now onto the "Such a good hunting dog would be wasted by his side", as you're right! Lil Telemachus could only hunt for things to teeth on at this point. Telemachus wouldn't need to hunt at this point. But he could have a "bodyguard". He's a prince after all.

I'd like to think Argos could've then become a Guard dog.

From what I've read, it was common for wealthier families to have Guard dogs as they'd have hunting dogs as well. The famous Guard Dog of the Underworld, Cerberus, is an example. (Such a good boy that Heracles could take him for a walk with permission from Hades) I mean Eumaeus' own dogs, who most likely were trained to guard the swine from predators, went to Odysseus with aggression at first.

This is cited from this, as I'm feeling a wee bit lazy and I don't want to sift through the Odyssey at the moment.

"The dogs of Eumaeus, Odysseus' loyal swineherd, likely were Molossians. "Like savage beasts," they do not recognize the stranger and rush snarling at Odysseus, barking furiously. "A moment more, my pack would have torn you limb from limb," warns Eumaeus (IV.23, 41), although a familiar figure is not a threat. When Telemachus, the son of Odysseus, goes up to them later, "the howling dogs went nuzzling up around him, not a growl as he approached" (XVI.5). And when Athena reveals herself to the hero, only Odysseus sees her—and the dogs, who, conscious of the divine, run away, whimpering and cringing (XVI.183)."

Although yes, most dogs are trained with one "job" in mind, if Argos was young-ish when Odysseus first left, he could've been retrained to guard.

It could simply be that he was abandoned as soon as Odysseus left, but with how much his family and most subjects loved him and tried to keep his stuff well cared for as much as they could with the suitors around, (his property, the bed, his BOW, etc.) it feels a bit...contradictive to show that they cared so little for the pet he adored? Or at the very least they would've abandoned him for no reason. Also as a pet owner, if I found out my family left my critters to wither away for no good reason, I'd be Pissed

This is probably a reach, but I'd like to think Odysseus gave Argos "one last job" before he left for war: Watch over my loved ones while I'm away. Argos being so loyal, stayed alive until his master could release him of his duty (despite not being able to "Guard" in his last years, as he was too old and the suitors taking over, he still "watched over them") as Odysseus was back to protect his family again. Odysseus probably didn't think Argos would be so determined to follow through and to see him again. Which makes it all the more bittersweet.

This is very rambly and all over the place (coincidentally I'm "puppysitting" for my neighbors so I'm...tired and a wee bit braindead.) But I hope this is somewhat cohesive!

I love guard dog Argos. Sleeping at the foot of Telemachus' crib (I know they probably didn't let pets inside but work with me). Telemachus uses him to balance as he first starts to toddle off. GOOD STUFF!

Odysseus may be a dog person but Penelope is definitely a cat person.

I know we joke about how Odysseus is a "Wet Cat" as it's correct but he really does "show love" and even behaves like a cat to me.

The whole "I only love two people and they're the only ones who can love me without fear of me biting them." as most cats pick "Their person".

My cats are literally the type to be like "Hi! I love you!" all the while they're walking across my work and knocking most shit over, leaving destruction in their wake. Odysseus literally slaughters a bunch of people and then a whiplash of him crying while being held by his wife.

(I also headcanon him as someone who "demands attention" like a cat. Especially from Penelope. "Ima lay my head in your lap even if you're kind of busy." "Ima grab your hand and start kissing your fingers even if you're holding something.")

Odysseus always wants to claim he's like a dog (Loyal, Brave, etc.) but he's not. Penelope has always loved cats, using some string to play with them sometimes even though I don't think Mycenae Greece had cats until later periods, being brought over from Egypt, it's a headcanon, let me have fun and his "wet cat" vibes are what drew her to him in the first place.

#I LOVE THESE DISCUSSIONS!!!#FEEDS MY BRAIN #I'm tired but I can still function a little to talk about puppies in ancient times!

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gaal-dornick · 3 years ago

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thinking abt the florence bit of one of my fics (in the 1500s), how they got there thinking yeah we'll spend a year here tops, decided to get a house and an old dog, very mean, very aggressive, the boar hunting kind, a big huge molosser, came with it bc no one managed to take it out of there, and immediately it falls in love with andy (and with the others in increments) and they think "ok he's already like nine, he won't live much longer, we'll just wait him out". ten years later they're still there, the dog is treated like a king and still going strong at around 1cm per hour of speed, sleeps on andy and quynh's bed (which they moved downstairs bc he can't go up the stairs anymore)

#personal #the old guard #it does die eventually one day andy has to leave town for a few days and he just waits until she comes back to die the moment he greets her #at the door #like odysseus' dog you ask? yes like odysseus' dog

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kookie-doughs · 2 years ago

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Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS: Voyage

Percy Jackson X Reader

Another year passed and now they're back as the camp needs them.

Chapter 2: Taxi Of Death

Annabeth was waiting for us in an alley down Church Street. She pulled Tyson and me off the sidewalk just as a fire truck screamed past, heading for Meriwether Prep.

"Where'd you find him?" she demanded, pointing at Tyson.

Now, under different circumstances, I would've been really happy to see her. We'd made our peace last summer, despite the fact that her mom was Athena and didn't get along with my dad. I'd missed Annabeth probably more than I wanted to admit.

But I'd just been attacked by cannibal giants, Tyson had saved my life three or four times, and all Annabeth could do was glare at him like he was the problem.

"He's my friend," I told her.

"Is he homeless?"

"What does that have to do with anything? He can hear you, you know. Why don't you ask him?"

She looked surprised. "He can talk?"

"I talk," Tyson admitted. "You are pretty."

"Ah! Gross!" Annabeth stepped away from him.

I couldn't believe she was being so rude. I was about to call her out when a smack was heard.

"Do NOT be rude." An assertive voice from behind Annabeth echoed.

Y/N came out from the shadows riding a dog that was bigger than the hellhound that had attacked me in camp when I got claimed. She looked pretty much the same from her photo if not more mature. Her clothes were different as well, but she still had the knife and headband on her.

"That hurts!" Annabeth hissed.

"And it'll hurt more if you continue to be rude. He helped Percy, he deserves credit."

Remembering what happened to Tyson, I examined his hands, which I was sure must've been badly scorched by the flaming dodge balls, but they looked fine—grimy and scarred, with dirty fingernails the size of potato chips—but they always looked like that. "Tyson," I said in disbelief. "Your hands aren't even burned."

"Of course not," Annabeth muttered.

"I'm surprised the Laistrygonians had the guts to attack you with him around." Y/N chuckled looking at Tyson.

Tyson seemed fascinated by Y/N's dog. He was hesitant to touch it until Y/N took his hand and brought it to D/N's head.

"Annabeth," I said, "what is she talking about? Laistry-what?"

"Laistrygonians. The monsters in the gym. They're a race of giant cannibals who live in the far north. Odysseus ran into them once, but I've never seen them as far south as New York before."

"Laistry—I can't even say that. What would you call them in English?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Canadians," she decided. "Now come on, we have to get out of here."

"The police'll be after me."

"That's the least of our problems," she said. "Have you been having the dreams?"

"The dreams... about Grover?"

Their face turned pale. "Grover? No, what about Grover?"

I told them my dream. "Why? What were you dreaming about?"

Annabeth's eyes looked stormy, like her mind was racing a million miles an hour.

"Camp," she said at last. "Big trouble at camp."

"My mom was saying the same thing! But what kind of trouble?"

"I don't know exactly. Something's wrong. We have to get there right away. Monsters have been chasing me all the way from Virginia, trying to stop me. Have you had a lot of attacks? Either of you?"

Y/N looked on the ground and shrugged.

I shook my head. "None all year... until today."

"None? But how..." Her eyes drifted to Tyson. "Oh."

"What do you mean, 'oh'?"

Tyson raised his hand like he was still in class. "Canadians in the gym called Percy something... Son of the Sea God?"

Annabeth, Y/N and I exchanged looks.

I didn't know how I could explain, but I figured Tyson deserved the truth after almost getting killed.

"Big guy," I said, "you ever hear those old stories about the Greek gods? Like Zeus, Poseidon, Athena—"

"Yes," Tyson said.

"Well... those gods are still alive. They kind of follow Western Civilization around, living in the strongest countries , so like now they're in the U.S. And sometimes they have kids with mortals.

Kids called half-bloods."

"Yes," Tyson said, like he was still waiting for me to get to the point.

"Uh, well, Annabeth, Y/N and I are half-bloods," I said. "We're like... heroes-in-training. And whenever monsters pick up our scent, they attack us. That's what those giants were in the gym. Monsters."

"Yes."

I stared at him. He didn't seem surprised or confused by what I was telling him, which surprised and confused me. "So... you believe me?"

Tyson nodded. "But you are... Son of the Sea God?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "My dad is Poseidon."

Tyson frowned. Now he looked confused. "But then..."

A siren wailed. A police car raced past our alley.

"We don't have time for this," Y/N said. "We'll talk in the taxi."

"A taxi all the way to camp?" I said. "You know how much money—"

"Trust me."

I hesitated. "What about Tyson?"

I imagined escorting my giant friend into Camp Half-Blood. If he freaked out on a regular playground with regular bullies, how would he act at a training camp for demigods? On the other hand, the cops would be looking for us.

"We can't just leave him," I decided. "He'll be in trouble, too."

"Yeah." Annabeth looked grim. "We definitely need to take him. Now come on."

I didn't like the way she said that, as if Tyson were a big disease we needed to get to the hospital, but I followed her down the alley. Together the three of us sneaked through the side streets of downtown while a huge column of smoke billowed up behind us from my school gymnasium.

"Here." Y/N stopped us on the corner of Thomas and Trimble. She fished around in her backpack. "I hope I have one left."

"What are you looking for?" I asked.

All around us, sirens wailed. I figured it wouldn't be long before more cops cruised by, looking for juvenile delinquent gym-bombers. No doubt Matt Sloan had given them a statement by now. He'd probably twisted the story around so that Tyson and I were the bloodthirsty cannibals.

"I have one." Annabeth pulled out a gold coin that I recognized as a drachma, the currency of Mount Olympus. It had Zeus's likeness stamped on one side and the Empire State Building on the other.

"Annabeth," I said, "New York taxi drivers won't take that."

She handed the coin to Y/N.

"Stêthi," she shouted in Ancient Greek. "Ô hárma diabolês!"

As usual, the moment she spoke in the language of Olympus, I somehow understood it.

She'd said: Stop, Chariot of Damnation!

That didn't exactly make me feel real excited about whatever her plan was.

She threw her coin into the street, but instead of clattering on the asphalt, the drachma sank right through and disappeared.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, just where the coin had fallen, the asphalt darkened. It melted into a rectangular pool about the size of a parking space—bubbling red liquid like blood. Then a car erupted from the ooze.

It was a taxi, all right, but unlike every other taxi in New York, it wasn't yellow. It was smoky gray. I mean it looked like it was woven out of smoke, like you could walk right through it. There were words printed on the door—something like GYAR SSIRES—but my dyslexia made it hard for me to decipher what it said.

The passenger window rolled down, and an old woman stuck her head out. She had a mop of grizzled hair covering her eyes, and she spoke in a weird mumbling way, like she'd just had a shot of Novocain. "Passage? Passage?"

"Three to Camp Half-Blood," Annabeth said. She opened the cab's back door and waved at me to get in, like this was all completely normal.

"Ach!" the old woman screeched. "We don't take his kind!"

She pointed a bony finger at Tyson.

What was it? Pick-on-Big-and-Ugly-Kids Day?

"Extra pay," Y/N promised. "Three more drachma on arrival."

"Done!" the woman screamed.

Reluctantly I got in the cab. Tyson and Y/N squeezed in the middle. Annabeth crawled in last. D/N was somehow smaller than he was when he arrived and had settled on Tyson's lap.

The interior was also smoky gray, but it felt solid enough. The seat was cracked and lumpy—no different than most taxis. There was no Plexiglas screen separating us from the old lady driving ... Wait a minute. There wasn't just one old lady. There were three, all crammed in the front seat, each with stringy hair covering her eyes, bony hands, and a charcoal-colored sackcloth dress.

The one driving said, "Long Island! Out-of-metro fare bonus! Ha!"

She floored the accelerator, and my head slammed against the backrest. A prerecorded voice came on over the speaker: Hi, this is Ganymede, cup-bearer to Zeus, and when I'm out buying wine for the Lord of the Skies, I always buckle up!

I looked down and found a large black chain instead of a seat belt. I decided I wasn't that desperate... yet.

The cab sped around the corner of West Broadway, and the gray lady sitting in the middle screeched, "Look out! Go left!"

"Well, if you'd give me the eye, Tempest, I could see that!" the driver complained.

Wait a minute. Give her the eye?

I didn't have time to ask questions because the driver swerved to avoid an oncoming delivery truck, ran over the curb with a jaw-rattling thump, and flew into the next block.

"Wasp!" the third lady said to the driver. "Give me the girl's coin! I want to bite it."

"You bit it last time, Anger!" said the driver, whose name must've been Wasp. "It's my turn!"

"Is not!" yelled the one called Anger.

The middle one, Tempest, screamed, "Red light!"

"Brake!" yelled Anger.

Instead, Wasp floored the accelerator and rode up on the curb, screeching around another corner, and knocking over a newspaper box. She left my stomach somewhere back on Broome Street.

"Excuse me," I said. "But ... can you see?"

"No!" screamed Wasp from behind the wheel.

"No!" screamed Tempest from the middle.

"Of course!" screamed Anger by the shotgun window.

I looked at the two. "They're blind?"

"Not completely," Annabeth said. "They have an eye."

"One eye?"

"Yeah."

"Each?"

"No. One eye total."

Next to me, Tyson groaned and grabbed the seat. "Not feeling so good."

"Oh, man," I said, because I'd seen Tyson get carsick on school field trips and it was not something you wanted to be within fifty feet of. "Hang in there, big guy. Anybody got a garbage bag or something?"

The three gray ladies were too busy squabbling to pay me any attention. I looked over at Y/N who was rubbing Tyson's back saying some... comforting words? I guess something that could make him better. Then to Annabeth, who was hanging on for dear life, and I gave her a why-did-you-do-this-to-me look.

"Hey," she said, "Gray Sisters Taxi is the fastest way to camp."

"Then why didn't you take it from Virginia?"

"That's outside their service area," she said, like that should be obvious. "They only serve Greater New York and surrounding communities."

"We've had famous people in this cab!" Anger exclaimed. "Jason! You remember him?"

"Don't remind me!" Wasp wailed. "And we didn't have a cab back then, you old bat. That was three thousand years ago!"

"Give me the tooth!" Anger tried to grab at Wasp's mouth, but Wasp swatted her hand away.

"Only if Tempest gives me the eye!"

"No!" Tempest screeched. "You had it yesterday!"

"But I'm driving, you old hag!"

"Excuses! Turn! That was your turn!"

Wasp swerved hard onto Delancey Street, squishing me between Tyson and the door. She punched the gas and we shot up the Williamsburg Bridge at seventy miles an hour.

The three sisters were fighting for real now, slapping each other as Anger tried to grab at Wasp's face and Wasp tried to grab at Tempest's. With their hair flying and their mouths open, screaming at each other, I realized that none of the sisters had any teeth except for Wasp, who had one mossy yellow incisor. Instead of eyes, they just had closed, sunken eyelids, except for Anger, who had one bloodshot green eye that stared at everything hungrily, as if it couldn't get enough of anything it saw.

Finally Anger, who had the advantage of sight, managed to yank the tooth out of her sister Wasp's mouth. This made Wasp so mad she swerved toward the edge of the Williamsburg Bridge, yelling, "'Ivit back! 'Ivit back!"

Tyson groaned and clutched his stomach.

"Uh, if anybody's interested," I said, "we're going to die!"

"Don't worry," Annabeth told me, sounding pretty worried. "The Gray Sisters know what they're doing. They're really very wise."

This coming from the daughter of Athena, but I wasn't exactly reassured. We were skimming along the edge of a bridge a hundred and thirty feet above the East River.

"Yes, wise!" Anger grinned in the rearview mirror, showing off her newly acquired tooth. "We know things!"

"Every street in Manhattan!" Wasp bragged, still hitting her sister. "The capital of Nepal!"

"The location you seek!" Tempest added.

Immediately her sisters pummeled her from either side, screaming, "Be quiet! Be quiet! He didn't even ask yet!"

"What?" Y/N said.

"What location? I'm not seeking any—"

"Nothing!" Tempest said. "You're right, boy. It's nothing!"

"Tell me."

"No!" they all screamed.

"The last time we told, it was horrible!" Tempest said.

"Eye tossed in a lake!" Anger agreed.

"Years to find it again!" Wasp moaned. "And speaking of that—give it back!"

"No!" yelled Anger.

"Eye!" Wasp yelled. "Gimme!"

She whacked her sister Anger on the back. There was a sickening pop and something flew out of Anger's face. Anger fumbled for it, trying to catch it, but she only managed to bat it with the back of her hand. The slimy green orb sailed over her shoulder, into the backseat, and straight into my lap.

I jumped so hard, my head hit the ceiling and the eyeball rolled away.

"I can't see!" all three sisters yelled.

"Give me the eye!" Wasp wailed.

"Give her the eye!" Annabeth screamed.

"I don't have it!" I said.

"There, by your foot," Y/N said. "Don't step on it! Get it!"

"I'm not picking that up!"

The taxi slammed against the guardrail and skidded along with a horrible grinding noise. The whole car shuddered, billowing gray smoke as if it were about to dissolve from the strain.

"Going to be sick!" Tyson warned.

"Annabeth," Y/N yelled, "let Tyson use your backpack!"

"Are you crazy? Percy get the eye!"

Wasp yanked the wheel, and the taxi swerved away from the rail. We hurtled down the bridge toward Brooklyn, going faster than any human taxi. The Gray Sisters screeched and pummeled each other and cried out for their eye.

At last I steeled my nerves. I ripped off a chunk of my tie-dyed T-shirt, which was already falling apart from all the burn marks, and used it to pick the eyeball off the floor.

"Nice boy!" Anger cried, as if she somehow knew I had her missing peeper. "Give it back!"

"Not until you explain," I told her. "What were you talking about, the location I seek?"

"No time!" Tempest cried. "Accelerating!"

I looked out the window. Sure enough, trees and cars and whole neighborhoods were now zipping by in a gray blur. We were already out of Brooklyn, heading through the middle of Long Island.

"Percy," Annabeth warned, "they can't find our destination without the eye. We'll just keep accelerating until we break into a million pieces."

"First they have to tell us," Y/N said. And signaled to me.

"Or I'll open the window and throw the eye into oncoming traffic." I continued.

"No!" the Gray Sisters wailed. "Too dangerous!"

"I'm rolling down the window."

"Wait!" the Gray Sisters screamed. "30, 31, 75, 12!"

They belted it out like a quarterback calling a play.

"What do you mean?" I said. "That makes no sense!"

"30, 31, 75, 12!" Anger wailed. "That's all we can tell you. Now give us the eye! Almost to camp!"

We were off the highway now, zipping through the countryside of northern Long Island. I could see Half-Blood Hill ahead of us, with its giant pine tree at the crest—Thalia's tree, which contained the life force or a fallen hero.

"Percy!" Annabeth said more urgently. "Give them the eye now!"

I decided not to argue. I threw the eye into Wasp's lap.

The old lady snatched it up, pushed it into her eye socket like somebody putting in a contact lens, and blinked. "Whoa!"

She slammed on the brakes. The taxi spun four or five times in a cloud of smoke and squealed to a halt in the middle of the farm road at the base of Half-Blood Hill.

Tyson let loose a huge belch. "Better now."

"All right," I told the Gray Sisters. "Now tell me what those numbers mean."

"No time!" Annabeth opened her door. "We have to get out now."

I was about to ask why, when I looked up at Half-Blood Hill and understood.

At the crest of the hill was a group of campers. And they were under attack.

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Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000 @ynfics @katara720

#x reader #pjo #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #sea of monsters #x y/n #y/n l/n #y/n l/n and the halfblood #fanfiction #book 2 #chapter 2

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osakaso5 · 3 years ago

Text

Everyday Splendor in Olympus Town: Season 2

Episode 3: Zeus

Episode Index

Hestia: Let's see what's on my shopping list for today. Minced meat, konnyaku noodles, and... hmm?

Hestia: Isn't that... Zeus and Hercules? What brings them together?

Hestia: Hello there. What are you two up to?

Hercules: Ah... Hestia. I had something to ask him, that's all.

Zeus: Well, if it isn't Hestia. About to open shop, are you?

Hestia: I have some last minute groceries to buy first, so I'm headed for Hermes' store.

Zeus: What do you need? Meat, vegetables?

Zeus: I'll buy you whatever farms you need, so long as you stop getting your ingredients from such shady sources.

Hestia: Ahaha! You're so dramatic, Zeus. But you really don't need to do that.

Hestia: What exactly did Hercules ask you about? If there's some kind of trouble, I'll help in any way I can.

Hercules: ...Have you heard the rumors of a gold treasure, buried somewhere in Olympus Town?

Hestia: Ah... I think Dionysus did mention that a while ago.

Zeus: I wasn't convinced at first, but upon asking around with my employees, I confirmed that there is in fact a treasure buried within this land.

Hercules: You made your staff work on your personal project... You're under arrest for various contractual violations.

Hercules: Not that the project itself isn't shady enough for me to interfere.

Zeus: I care not for contracts and the like. When you work for me, my word is law.

Zeus: And for all your talk about arresting people, you'll never beat Odysseus with that attitude.

Hestia: Now, now. Calm down, both of you.

Hestia: I know Zeus has his quirks, but everyone seems to love working for him anyway.

Zeus: That's right, Hestia. I knew you of all people would understand.

Hestia: And Hercules works hard to maintain peace around here. I know lots of people who say he's been a great help to them.

Hercules: I-I'm just doing my job, sir.

Hestia: Heh. So, did you find any clues?

Hercules: Master Zeus and I were just about to compare the results of our investigations.

Zeus: It would've been faster if we didn't bother investigating anything, and simply turned the ground inside out like I suggested.

Zeus: But since Artemis threatened to cut all ties with me, I had to give up on the idea.

Hestia: Ahaha, now that's what I call typical Zeus behavior. I'm glad you decided not to go through with it, though.

Hestia: All that digging would destroy my restaurant.

Zeus: Hah hah hah! Well, we certainly can't have that.

Hercules: Ugh... Damn it. If you'd actually done it, I could've arrested you.

Zeus: I'm sorry, did you say something?

Hercules: No, nothing...

Hestia: Why do you want the gold anyway, Zeus? You've got plenty of money as it is.

Zeus: Riches do not interest me, but I hear there's a book with methods to charm ladies among the other treasures.

Hestia: Ah... I see. So that's what you're after.

Hestia: Did you want that book too, Hercules?

Hercules: Unlike Master Zeus, I'm not particularly interested in women.

Hercules: I'm looking for the book that has the trick to becoming the strongest warrior in the world.

Hestia: Methods of charming ladies, and the trick to becoming the strongest warrior...

Hestia: Hmm, why does that sound so familiar..?

Zeus: Because of all the rumors, most likely. You must've overheard your clientele discussing them.

Hestia: Is that really it..?

Zeus: In any case, my employees found a Shinto shrine on the outskirts of town to be particularly suspicious.

Zeus: If anything is found there, the book will be mine. Any other riches I'll give to Artemis and you, Hestia.

Hestia: Huh!? I couldn't possibly accept treasure I didn't work for.

Zeus: Your cooking is delicious! I consider that reason enough for you to deserve it.

Hestia: I'm glad you like my cooking so much, but I still don't think I can accept it...

Hestia: As long as you two don't mind, why don't we invest the treasure in Olympus Town itself? I'm sure Artemis and all the others would be happy with that, too.

Zeus: ...Really? Well, if you insist, then I'll consider it.

Hercules: Just so we're clear, I'm still taking the book about becoming the strongest warrior.

Zeus: ...Very well. But in return for receiving it, you're going to have to dig it all up.

Hercules: What, by myself?

Zeus: You're confident in your strength, are you not? Report to me as soon as you've found it.

Hercules: That's not the point! It's way too much work for one person!

Hercules: And besides, I might receive some kind of punishment if I disturb a shrine like that!

Zeus: ...Ah hah hah! Don't make me laugh..! You fear divine retribution, despite being a god yourself?

Hercules: I-it's not because I'm afraid..!

Zeus: Fine, then. You just won't get your prize when the treasure is found.

Hercules: I never said I wouldn't go!

Zeus: ...Do you want me to call lightning down upon you?

Hercules: !!!

Hestia: Zeus!

Zeus: ........

Hestia: Calm down, both of you.

Hercules & Zeus: ...Sorry.

Hestia: That's better.

Hestia: You want writings from that treasure trove too, don't you, Zeus?

Zeus: ...Yes.

Hestia: Then you need to work together with Hercules to find it.

Hestia: I'll gladly receive a treasure you found yourself, rather than any random gold or jewels.

Zeus: ...You will?

Hestia: Yes. As long as you worked hard for it, I'm fine with anything.

Zeus: ...Very well. I'll just have to join in on the excavation efforts. For you.

Hercules: Hestia, you're incredible... You have him tamed like a dog.

Zeus: Rejoice, Hercules! I'll allow you to help me find this treasure.

Hercules: Right, whatever... I'm truly honored, Master Zeus.

#idolish7 #olympus town #translation #event story

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littlesparklight · 3 years ago

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Cruelties of the Heart

It wasn't the glittering pressure of Iris that woke Menelaos up. Rather it was Knossia stirring from under his arm, slipping out of the bed with a whispered 'wake up, my lord', sliding out of the room with a bow to Iris while she dressed and Menelaos had barely sat up. He looked from the nymph, escaping out and certainly about to disappear into her fountain again, then to the goddess, near touching the roof where she stood in the middle of the room, her golden wings shedding a light all of their own and enhancing the morning's rose-gold light that fell in through the windows.

Menelaos shook his head, not awake enough, not quite quick enough, to even begin to guess why a goddess should come here to Crete to see him. Unless this was about Helen, for Helen was the daughter of Zeus, and the king of gods and men would surely be concerned about his mortal daughter's welfare if something should've happened.

"Has something happened to Helen?" Menelaos spoke through the too-thick beat of his heart that had taken up space in his mouth, hand frozen partway through his distracted comb-through of his hair with a hand. His hair was not important, if Helen was in danger.

"Son of Atreus, honoured husband to Helen, daughter of the dark-misted son of Kronos; up and back to your ships. Light-footed, radiant Aphrodite has stolen through your house, uniting Paris and Helen. Your guest took your wife with him as he left in the night, and Helen went with him, the sanctity of your marriage bed despoiled."

Silence rung beyond the echo of Iris' words, hanging there with damning weight even as the goddess herself disappeared out the window with a rainbow shimmer. There was a weight on Menelaos' heart, an ache in his gut, and hot, liquid weight flooded him as soon as the silence settled, the goddess' presence no longer pushing all air away from her.

Helen wouldn't.

Helen - had looked at Alexander of Troy with stolen, wide-eyed glances, lips pressed thin even before she knew he'd spied her looking. Helen had taken the gifts Alexander had offered her with a comely little blush to her cheeks, yes, but with all due decorum. Helen had wondered aloud, in the privacy of their rooms, as to the beauty of their foreign guest. Had teased him - he'd thought - if the effect of Alexander passing through the corridors of the palace, leaving sighs in his wake, was any similar to the effect she left in her passing, however small such a similarity could be.

Perhaps it hadn't been teasing. Perhaps it had been Helen confessing to more than understanding of the effect she could have by watching someone else. Perhaps it had been Helen confessing she was as affected by such beauty as the rest of the world was to hers, but carrying it she could hardly fall in love with herself.

Menelaos stared down at his trembling hands, slowly tightened them into fists, and ignored how his vision blurred.

Helen wouldn't.

Except he'd left her alone, because he'd trusted her, and who trusted the beauty of one's wife to other men? Who trusted the beauty of a man such as Alexander?

Collapsing back, Menelaos didn't even flinch as his head met the wall, and clutched his face, biting down on any embarrassing noise. Anger might come later; at the moment he was too heavy for anger, too weighted by tears for the insult to spur him to any action at all. He couldn't move, sorrow and dull, echoing pain carving chains straight out of his heart and keeping him on the bed. He should get up, but the enormity of both his own emotions and the situation kept him there, unable to decide what to do.

It wasn't until the door opened and Agamemnon stepped in that Menelaos realized he'd sat there for hours - the sun had long since passed from shy morning light that lit up his borrowed room into afternoon heaviness that threw the room in shadows.

"Menelaos---" His brother paused, staring at him. The shadows made him huge, taller and broader than he was, more similar to the towering, unpleasant ghost of their father, especially with that scowl on his face. It immediately eased up into a soft-mouthed breath drawn as Menelaos found the strength to drop his hands and meet Agamemnon's dark-eyed gaze. His brother crossed the floor in three steps, hovering now, as a thick-maned lion hovers over his young cubs daring a trip out of the lair their mother has kept them in, to drink from a sweet, cold pool and for the first time exposed to the dangers of the open sky and shielding grass, which could yet hide dangers. "What's paining you? Sitting here in the darkness - what news could you even have received when no herald or messenger has come past Idomeneus' hall?"

"Gods need not use stairs and doors, Agamemnon," Menelaos said, finding some thread of wryness, his mouth following a stumbling step behind but not quite managing a smile to match his tone. "Storm-footed Iris, messenger of Zeus, came to me."

He closed his eyes, gritting his jaw until he could speak, for where there'd been tears there was now a flare of white-hot rage.

"Alexander of Troy left with my wife in the night, stealing my marriage bed of its precious contents and robbing my house of its greatest jewel." Reaching out blindly, he didn't need to fumble for Agamemnon's hand to close about his. "Agamemnon--- what do I do?"

He knew what he wanted to do, but the idea was vast, and though the threat itself might - should, surely - be enough to threaten Troy to give up its stolen loot, if it didn't, the price could be high. It seemed a terrible thing to ask of the sons and lords of Achaea by his own authority.

"There was an oath sworn," Agamemnon growled, his voice as if that of the Thunderer himself, "we call on it. I won't have you disrespected this way, dear Menelaos."

They were finally to do this.

Finally, after the wrong city, after being scattered and remustering over five years, and quietly, full of useless, gentle hope, Menelaos hoped that these five years were part of the ten Kalkhas had interpreted that the war would last for. It could be, couldn't it? Why shouldn't it? They might not have been engaged in armed combat for more than that assault on Mysia, limping back to try and find their way and then scattered by the storm, but it was one link in the chain, a part of the war, as disappointing and empty as it'd been.

This time there would be no further disappointments, no further derailments. Odysseus had gotten Achilles off from where he'd ended up on Skyros, and Telephus would be showing the way; they were all gathered, it was only a question of setting off in the morning.

So, for today, there was celebratory hunting, and Menelaos found himself smiling as he had little energy to do lately when Agamemnon's spear was the one to take down the deer they'd been chasing.

"Better than the virgin huntress herself, wouldn't you say?" Agamemnon proclaimed, his voice ringing with giddy pleasure of success and rustling the leaves of the trees around them, proud as any young boy being given the chance to take down his first quarry, the older hunters stepping back to allow him his first taste of glory and experience.

Menelaos choked on his breath, hidden underneath the laughter around them. Cold punched his chest, seized his tongue and froze it still, even as lava bubbled up, scalding his stilled tongue with the need to speak, to shout at his brother. He glanced around, but all the men present - Nestor still in his tent in the Pylosian contingent's camp, too old to comfortably keep up with the rest of them and not deprive them of all but the most unworthy, old or diseased quarry - were laughing, thoughtless with success, with the coming riches and renown to be gained.

All but Odysseus, standing at the fringe, rubbing his chin and jaw.

Briefly, their eyes met, and Menelaos wondered, considering Odysseus' reluctance during the first muster, if he wasn't pleased. If so, it wasn't visible on his face, and Menelaos could only marvel at the man's ability to keep himself contained. They broke their gaze to look up as a disturbing wind made the branches dance, scraping against each other like a harpist only the Receiver of Many would employ at his grim court.

In the distance, clouds towered up and the winds were soon tearing at both clothes and hair, driving the grass flat and threatening to pitch them all to the ground.

III

The tent was silent save for Menelaos pacing with a particularly pinched expression on his face Agamemnon well-recognized and wasn't much in the mood for.

His little brother's temper was rarely roused, but when it did so it could be fierce and take little heed of others - and most often it rose against Agamemnon himself, despite how quiescent Menelaos was at the best of times, despite how hard he worked to keep his younger brother satisfied and safe and unharmed. Sometimes, Menelaos could be the worst sort of dog.

"I'm not sacrificing my own daughter," Agamemnon snapped, staring at his hands. Hands a goddess would have him murder his own beloved, oldest daughter for. That he hand this task, this foul thing, over to someone else was as unthinkable as doing it at all. If it should happen, he would do it himself, but it wasn't going to happen. But if it didn't happen, then their name would be left besmirched, his brother's home and person insulted and left to be laughed at, and the glory and gain to be won, surely beyond counting, lost.

To be sure, leaving your wife with an unknown guest in your halls was reckless and foolish, too trusting of both strange man and beloved wife, but Alexander of Troy had been a guest - it was unconscionable that he should then repay his host the way he had. More than that, the host had been Menelaos, his little brother. The memory of coming into the room Idomeneus had given Menelaos and seeing him on the bed as if all life and vitality had left him still hurt.

"I didn't say you should," Menelaos growled, whirling around but pausing in his pacing to stare at Agamemnon from across the tent, brown eyes ablaze and the light from the lamps catching bloody in his pale, red-blond hair. "Blessed gods, brother, what do you take me for? There has been enough death in this house, I wouldn't ask any more of you!"

Slowly, Agamemnon tightened his hands into fists, though that didn't so much hide the tremble in them as subsume it, setting his very blood to vibrating, his veins pulsing in answer until his skin was buzzing from fingertips to armpit. Menelaos wasn't lying, of course. He didn't want Agamemnon hurt, or to hurt him, both for perfectly normal, brotherly reasons as well as to hold the darkness that always lurked at bay, fangs bloody in the dark, waiting. But there was, still, an edge to his words, in his voice, like a knife hidden under the well-appointed, beautiful dress of a woman plotting as only women could, resorting to subterfuge for that was both their nature and their need.

"And yet you have more. Out with it."

They stared at each other for a beat, a pulse jumping in Agamemnon's jaw to match the one at Menelaos' temple, and then his little brother grit his teeth, usually so very warm eyes narrowing. There was a time those eyes had looked at him with nothing but beseeching need, searching him out for every little bruise that tender heart had suffered, knowing not the worser pains Agamemnon had gone to lengths to shield him from. Maybe if he had refused to help his brother in winning Helen and redirected him towards another potential wife, they wouldn't be here. On the other hand, what was the chances no one at all wouldn't have tried what Alexander of Troy had, even if Helen would have been married to Achilles?

"I will not ask you, and I won't demand it, but I wouldn't even have to if you hadn't opened your mouth! What were you thinking! A deer in her own sanctuary, and even if not, you claimed yourself better than one of the Deathless Ones instead of thanking her for the kill, and now I should be left with nothing but ruin and laughter, completely aside from not knowing what I'm leaving Helen to?"

"From what you told me of him, that boy could not force her if he so went to her bed when she would be sleeping and could put up no resistance." This was not acknowledging the real source of Menelaos' anger, but Agamemnon felt little desire to admit to it. Of course, he could not sit there and watch his little brother flinch as if he'd slapped him, looking away and seeming to collapse in on himself.

"Helen wouldn't have gone willingly," Menelaos whispered, hands tremblingly tight in fists at his sides, and Agamemnon bit down on the next few words, knowing Menelaos knew she must have, for he'd accused her of that to Agamemnon himself on the way to Sparta from Crete, furious and hurt for a blazingly glorious moment. The problem was Menelaos' anger could never quite be sustained for long whenever it was roused, and now he had retreated into soft-hearted pain and the security of insisting the ridiculous, woman-mad pretty boy had forced Helen from Sparta and to the ships.

Grunting, Agamemnon drew breath to - redirect the conversation, if not apologize, but Menelaos got there before him, and he should probably have expected the shape of the retaliation.

"What do you care for, in the end? For me, at all, when you insult a goddess just as we are about to set off, my grief finally to be assuaged, and you're unwilling to repay her the respect you lost her, even as cruel as her demand is? Or only for wealth and glory, which can be easily discarded at the slightest opposition, considering the wealth of Mycenae? If this was about wealth and renown, you know I wouldn't be here, and I would be urging you against the whole of the gathered sons of Argos and the Danaans if they were the ones howling for your daughter's blood for favourable winds to win them their promised glo---!"

"So you would have me sacrifice my daughter for you? One half of my heart for the other?" Agamemnon bellowed, surging to his feet, and knowing not what hurt more - that he might be considering it exactly for that, or that Menelaos was leveraging himself this way.

"No!"

It wasn't much of a consolation that Menelaos seemed horrified, even when that had been exactly what he'd implied in his anger. Choking on something hot and wet, Agamemnon halted in his advance, but Menelaos came to meet him, clutching his arms and now meeting his eyes unflinchingly. If Agamemnon only could do the same, but he was staring over the top of Menelaos' head, the lush, soft tumble of half-wavy hair still in disarray from their walk here through the rising storm winds. He hadn't noticed he was shaking, and not just his hands.

"I would rather we not be here at all, Agamemnon. I would rather not be responsible for the lives of all these men, young and seasoned both, rather not be the reason they're here, and the deaths that will come of this already pains me." Menelaos grimaced, jaw, lips, tight, which hid the briefest of trembles to his usually soft mouth. Agamemnon couldn't remember when he last saw his little brother smile, and something hurt within. It was far too reminiscent of when they were younger, when Menelaos had been slender as a whip and creeping quietly around, tense as a fawn walking out into the open for the first time, following its mother but fearing any nearby hidden wolves and its sharp, slavering jaws, thirsty for tender flesh and young blood, so as to not arouse their father's anger. "And I don't want to see Iphigenia's blood on the altar, for the pleasure of cruel gods who care more for their Trojan sacrifices than the golden laws of hospitality the son of Kronos himself guards. But I can't just turn back, either. What sort of man would I be, then, to neither defend my wife or punish the crime, to let a far lesser man take something so precious from me, away from Achaea and Sparta itself, where Helen belongs?"

Menelaos closed his eyes, shaking his head. "And I know the chance she left unwillingly is slim, but if there was even the barest of risks of that, how could I leave her to suffer continually at the hands of the man who stole her?"

When he opened his eyes again, Menelaos was stiff as he squeezed Agamemnon's arms and said nothing more, merely watched him with a tense, dark look that had become far too familiar in the last five years. Even the slave woman he'd gone to pains to find for his brother had not ever stirred even the smallest edge of Menelaos' usual smile, though she did delight him, he knew. And if they - he - did nothing, how long could he expect Menelaos to be respected on Sparta's throne? How long until he would have to field disrespect against both of their thrones, against his brother personally? He did not want to see him in more pain, but Iphigenia...

Agamemnon's heart quavered, and he lurched forward, clutching Menelaos to himself, and if there was a wounded noise that escaped him, at least it was hidden in his brother's hair.

"My daughter. How can she ask for my daughter, even if she kills women, young and old, at whim?" Agamemnon groaned, but could not deny Artemis had a right to her recompense, as little as he was going to admit it. The words had been said, and he had been the one to say them, and he couldn't imagine disbanding the army, as close to it as he'd been before Menelaos had shouted at him over the wind that they needed to talk things over. But talking things over had merely put his brother right in front of him, his brother who'd been grievously insulted and maltreated, his brother who Agamemnon was still furious to see losing both spark and smile since Helen had left.

"I don't know," Menelaos murmured, wrapping his arms around him. "I don't know."

His brother, and his daughter.

Agamemnon closed his eyes, but could not escape the memory of Iphigenia's glowing smile as she sang at dinner the evening before they set off for Aulis a second time, proud for her father, for the glory they were to win, respect rewon. His darling, sweet-faced Iphigenia, with her dark, curly hair and bright eyes, who'd liked to 'provoke' him into chasing her when she was younger, growling like the most ferocious of wolves and herself shrieking in horrified delight.

Agamemnon shook until he was still, digging bruises into Menelaos' shoulders, wetting his hair, and then he took a breath.

"We could put it to a vote," Menelaos offered, then, and eyes still closed, Agamemnon pulled back to shake his brother a little.

"I am not putting my daughter's life to a vote among the council. If I am doing this, I am doing it by my own decision, by my own hand, as it was my own words that landed us here. Nothing more, nothing less!"

His daughter, and his brother.

In the end, the decision, as heavy as it was, as cold as it made him, was, perhaps, foregone.

* An attempt at using both the hints of variant traditional material where Agamemnon and Menelaos’ relationship isn’t as simple as the older brother eclipsing the younger and Menelaos giving way to Agamemnon in all things, but without turning Menelaos (or Agamemnon, for that matter) into some terrible villainised version of himself as seemed to have been popular to make of him in a number of plays. Also to deal with Agamemnon coming to the decision to sacrifice Iphigenia.

#the iliad #trojan war #menelaus #agamemnon #lightart

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chaosintheavenue · 4 years ago

Text

Fallout Van Buren: The Basics

I have a lot of time on my hands at the moment, and entirely too much Van Buren information floating around in my head, so I decided to make a post summarising the main details of the game Van Buren could have been for those who want to know more about it, but would rather not trawl through pages and pages of design documents.

First up, for those that may not know, Van Buren was the codename of what would have become Interplay’s Fallout 3, had it not been cancelled during development. All that has ever been released is a tech demo with glitches galore and no direct relation to the intended plotline, some concept art, and a bunch of incomplete design documents.

Please note that, as a lot of planned content was scrapped even before the game itself was, some artistic interpretation is necessary to make the storyline flow, so some parts of my summary are my own personal takes on stuff.

(Warning: this is pretty long. Also, be aware that the New Plague gets involved in Van Buren a lot more than it did in any published games, so proceed with caution if you’re trying to avoid that sort of thing)

Plot overview:

The player character would start the game, in full Bethesda style, as a prisoner in an NCR prison. Choosing the crimes that had led to their imprisonment, and whether they were innocent or guilty of them in reality, was likely going to be part of the character creation and skill selection process.

At the start of the game, the Prisoner would wake up one day in a new cell in the automated, robot-managed Tibbets Prison. This prison was under attack by a group of rogue NCR soldiers led by a very skilled, but also very evil, scientist called Victor Presper. Many of the robot guards were damaged and weakened by this attack, and in the confusion some prisoners, obviously including the player, would have escaped.

Once away from the prison, the Prisoner was free to explore the map looking for more information on this Victor Presper, and would most likely end up wandering from place to place and completing a bunch of side quests for people they met along the way, as most Fallout protagonists do. More info is given on some of the locations they might have travelled to below!

At some point, the Prisoner would become aware that a large robot was pursuing them. This robot was ARGOS, controlled by the AI running Tibbets (ODYSSEUS), and its mission was to retrieve and recapture the escaped prisoners. If ARGOS did capture the player at any point, it would return them to their cell. Their original, still-damaged cell, which they could immediately escape from again. Yeah, nice work, ARGOS and ODYSSEUS…

Over time, the player would start to notice that the NPCs in locations they were visiting were becoming ill, and many would die. Somehow (it’s never specified how), it would be revealed that Tibbets was not just any prison, but a quarantine prison, and that all inmates- the player character included- were carriers of the New Plague, and had been spreading it to every location they visited on their travels.

(Quick lore break here: if you’re unfamiliar with the New Plague, its Wiki page is here, and you can find previous posts of mine about it here and here. Warning for detailed descriptions of illness, blood, death mentions, and parallels with current circumstances in all of these links!)

From here, the Prisoner had to round up the other escaped prisoners and return them to the facility to prevent further outbreaks- either by convincing them to return by various means, killing them and dragging their bodies back, or alerting ARGOS to their locations. Along the way, clues would appear that Presper was behind the whole fiasco, and was still working at odds with the player’s aims (as one design doc succinctly puts it, ‘that bastard is up to something’).

The overall main aims of the Prisoner (well, a Good Karma one, at least) would be:

To stop Presper

To cure the New Plague

To establish trade routes between settlements, likely involving getting the old trains network and running again. Of course, if done too early in the game, this would speed up the spread of the Plague…

Eventually, the Prisoner would find and confront Presper in space, on board a pre-war ballistic orbital missile base (aptly named B.O.M.B.-001), which still contained live nuclear warheads and had been activated by ODYSSEUS once the New Plague started to spread again. Presper’s plan right from the start was to activate this orbital base, then use its missiles to ‘clean the slate’ of the wasteland, so to speak, then start over with his own vision of humanity. The ending would have involved the Prisoner either launching the warheads at settlements they’d visited during the game, or blowing up the satellite with themselves on board to spare the wasteland.

Locations:

Boulder Dome- a pre-war science facility in Boulder, Colorado. Has a lot of New Plague information, making it a very useful location for more scientific Prisoners to work on a cure. Also contains a handful of environmental suit-wearing scientists who spend their days completing maintenance tasks to keep the Dome in working order, waiting in decontamination tunnels, and usually being generally mistrustful of one another. Yes, this is definitely Fallout, not Among Us!

Burham Springs- a former mining town in Utah that has been permanently burning for years. Home to the Gehennas, who will make an appearance below

Denver or Dog Town- a city of dogs. Let me repeat myself, a city of dogs

Hoover Dam- was going to be a large settlement, nothing at all like the version in New Vegas

New Canaan- a town of Mormons on the Great Salt Lake, as mentioned in New Vegas. Wouldn’t have had much significance in the overarching Plague plot as far as I can tell, but it takes a more central role in my own tweaked OC storyline because I saw an opportunity to tie VB and NV together through its characters. This location was cut during development and replaced with a smaller settlement called Jericho, but the mentions of New Canaan and complete silence on Jericho in NV mean that the New Canaan information is generally considered to be ‘more canon’

The Nursery- a pre-war facility that’s essentially a contained nature reserve to the extreme. There are lush green trees, clean water, and pre-war animals here. Also, the famous Harold would have made an appearance

Reservation- formerly Los Alamos (a real-life nuclear testing facility). Now a ghoul settlement, and also intensely radioactive. Almost a combination of the Glow and Necropolis or Underworld

This was just a brief summary of my personal favourites, but there are many more locations too!

Some of my favourite pieces of concept art:

(All taken from the Fallout Wiki)

Boulder Dome!

Gehennas!

Hoover Dam!

Reservation entrance!

I feel like this post wasn’t the most coherent, so if I made no sense or you want to hear about the planned storyline, locations, and companions in more detail, I strongly recommend Retcon Raider’s series on YouTube!

You’re also very welcome to ask or chat to me about any aspect fsghgf! That said, there are some areas of the lore I know a lot about (namely, the main storyline, the Boulder Dome, New Canaan, and anything remotely tied in with the New Plague stuff), and others that I’m not as familiar with just yet, so I’m not exactly an ever-flowing fountain of VB knowledge lol.

#fallout van buren #new plague #fallout lore

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