#odysseus: something horrible just happened…i can feel it

[o3o-lapd-o3o]

okay! part 4 is here! still no dinner scene but hey, who doesn't like a telemachus and athena moment? huh? huh?

the post/thread that started this whole au

dinner scene: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8

there's a masterlist now!

*later that day* *telemachus walking around the palace ground and speaking with athena about poseidon & also tomorrows family dinner*

telemachus: so, you said lord poseidon is your uncle, right?

athena: *under her breath to herself* unfortunately

athena: *to telemachus this time* he is indeed my father’s brother.

telemachus: what does he like? what’s his favourite food? does eat with you and the other gods on olympus?

athena: *not expecting to play 40 questions about poseidon*

athena: HU- *coughs* why do you want to know? i thought you studied the gods when you were younger?

telemachus: i mean yeah, but those are other people’s words. what better way than to ask his actual family?

athena: *regretting this conversation, but answers because it is telemachus asking*

athena: if you are looking to strike a conversation with him, i can say for certain he will be interested in anything about his kingdom, the sea.

athena: as for food, i’m sure you know we gods, do not require mortal food for sustenance.

telemachus: *confused and stops walking*

telemachus: *turns and looks up at athena* but you ate breakfast this morning with us? and other meals?

athena: *stops walking also and laughs a little at his confused face*

athena: *ruffles telemachus’ hair* yes i did. we can find it enjoyable, whether it be an offering, during a feast or with…

athena: *stops ruffling his hair & smiles warmly at telemachus* family.

telemachus: *smiles*

telemachus: *continues walking*

athena: *continues with him*

telemachus: so, you still never said what his favourite food was?

athena: *shrugs* i don’t know, fish?

telemachus: *laughs* well we certainly have plenty of that!

*both continue talking and walking together*

*a short while later*

telemachus: ok so even though he does have a place to live on olympus, he doesn’t live there? how come?

athena: the sea is his domain, i would expect he feels more comfortable being always part of it. he knows everything that is happening on and in it then.

athena: also, i’m sure that having my father be king of the gods while also being his younger brother, is not something he would personally want to be around all the time.

athena: i think if it were my younger brother…

athena: *imagines ares as king of the gods* *shakes the thought immediately away*

athena: *waves hand in front of her in dismissal* never mind that thought.

telemachus: *eyebrow raised in confusion* uh ok.

athena: as i was saying, my father, while he is a great & wise king of us gods, occasionally having to sometimes deal with his...

athena: *thinks to the lighting shaped scars on her face and body*

athena: …games, does not always end up good for those who play them.

telemachus:

telemachus: so, he just prefers living in his palace under the sea basically?

athena: pretty much, yeah.

athena: maybe you could save some more of your questions for my uncle at dinner tomorrow?

athena: trust me, i’m sure he’d love to talk about himself.

telemachus: yeah, i’ve got so much to ask him!

telemachus: not just about himself, but how he and my father came to be such good friends!

athena: *laughing to herself as she knows the truth of said friendship*

athena: oh i too would like to know…

athena: *has a thought* little wolf, you’re helping your mother and the palace servants plan everything for tomorrow, correct?

telemachus: yeah i am!

telemachus: actually, i probably should go and find mother to discuss things.

athena: *gently holds his arm before he can run off* before you go, i believe it would be best if we sat your father and my uncle right next to each other don’t you think?

athena: i normally know your mother and father would sit together as king and queen, but this is a family dinner, is it not?

athena: *grins* friends should be with friends.

telemachus: *holds hand up for a high five* that sounds like a great idea athena! that means you’re next to me, right?

athena: *hive fives and then smiles at telemachus* of course.

telemachus: *smiling back* okay, i’ll go and let mother know!

telemachus: *waves before heading into the palace* bye ‘thena!

athena: *waves back* goodbye telemachus.

athena: *now to herself* oh tomorrow will be fun indeed.

[ikea09]

I know a lot of people think Athena was a lot harsher with child-odysseus than she's being with Telemachus but what if she isn't?

What if ,when odysseus trained under her, she was once soft and gentle with him too. She praises him and ruffles his hair and lets him lay his head in his lap when he gets tired and tells his parents they should be proud of him when they reach the palace after she walks him home. To award his progress, she bakes him carrot cake and knits owl plushies for him that even into his 20s he still sleeps with for they remind him of his mentor.

(Only because he's fragile. Only to motivate him. yes she's totally not getting attached to. Attachments and emotions are for the weak. He is only my mentee.)

She doesn't know how much she is tricking herself.

That changes with the trojan war. She sees an opportunity to gain glory, to be known. Her unknown attachment is overridden by her ambition.

With that she truly starts seeing odysseus as just her mentee. no. less. Her weapon to deliver on the trojans for slighting her. Her little warrior.

She becomes harsher and sterner on him pressuring him into remaining the perfect general.

(Does she know? Does she know how he cannot sleep? How the horrific war crimes he committed under her influence keep him up at night?)

The war ends. He spares a cyclops. She is *enraged*

How dare he? How dare he scorn her teachings, she who gave him glory?

(But what's a title that a goddess can lend, if he'll never sleep at night?)

That night she attempts to sleep. And the next. And the next. A horrible, guilty feeling swirls in her stomach and keeps her up, gruesome images of what may be happening to odysseus play in her mind along with those of a bright eyed boy she can't help but feel she failed.

After a few years, she goes through this problem logically.

Why do I feel so guilty about him? Why do I want to run back and fix things?

Ah, I must have gotten much more attached than I thought.

Ok. Now i know the problem, I can apply the solution.

Forget him. Emotion and guilt are for the soft. To remain strong, I can't let these feelings get to me.

Then, she remembers something.

What got odysseus through all those years at troy? Through the guilt and blood?

Penelope.

Telemachus.

He was never fighting for her.

He was fighting for them.

They were his strength.

His love for them were his strength.

Maybe, my love can me mine?

Maybe, my attachment to him isn't so bad ?

Maybe, it isn't so weakening.

Yes.

Who would have thought that a goddess of wisdom would be taught wisdom from a mere mortal?

[farah1247]

So, here's something I don't understand.

In the original myth, there was no plot to SA Penelope. This was an addition to Epic the Musical Jay actively chose to include.

What IS in the original myth is the SA of Odysseus by Calypso.

But Jay has stated on record that Calypso in Epic did not SA Odysseus, and that he would not be including that moment in the musical because he personally is uncomfortable with it.

But he's still comfortable with having Zeus sing an entire song equating punishing mortals to assaulting women, adds in a plotline where over 100 men plan to collectively assault a woman, and even commissions a graphic scene depicting, even if it's just a character's fantasy, the violent assault of a woman.

Why was it so important that Jay include the assault of women as a plot point but erase the assault of a man? To make the suitors seem more a threat and root for Odysseus? But we already got that from Legendary and Little Wolf. We were already rooting for Odysseus. There was already sufficient enough danger and stakes.

Why was the depiction of assaulting women more important to include than the story of a male SA survivor?

One, I have not read the Odyssey yet I'm on book 10 of the Iliad and have heard conflicting reports on if the suitors wanted to SA Penelope or not, but I've seen the majority say they didn't so I'll answer proceeding with the assumption they didn't SA Penelope

I have firmly always disagreed with removing the SA of Odysseus and I forever will, it's my biggest criticism of Epic, I haven't seen any clip of Jay saying it's because he feels uncomfortable so to me I always read both the songs as Calypso did assault him and gaslight the hell out of him, I am firmly against using outside material to tell your audience what's happening, the art should speak for itself, this trend of having the artist explain to you what you should think and feel destroys me as an English literature student, I'll continue to answer with the understanding Odysseus's SA didn't happen in Epic

I think the SA of Odysseus IS SO integral and important to the plot, removing it is very suspicious and a horrible move to make

But I want to clarify I always thought the 2 songs reek of SA, isolation and gaslighting, it read as more subtle and that fit with who Calypso is

I suspect the addition of Penelope's assault is part of modernizing Epic, in the original the biggest crime of the suitors is being horrible guests and taking advantage of Penelope's generosity ( as far as I'm aware at least) which is a HUGE deal in Ancient Greece which would make any reader back then root for Odysseus, a modern audience would never think that way, in order to make a modern audience feel the same way adding SA plot is the perfect way and without any context to the Odyssey it's an entirely expected scenario for a modern audience, I personally assumed SA was a thing in the Odyssey because of modern way thinking

In my opinion Penelope's SA isn't a negative thing to add but Odysseus's SA should exist, either keep the songs the same and say it did happen because that reading ABSOLUTELY works due to the biased gaslighting pov of the abuser in both songs or he can make it more explicit so the work can 100% speak for itself because as I said before I'm firmly against needing the artist to tell you what to think and feel

Also your last sentence is very insensitive, we need more stories with SA male survivors because it isn't taken seriously nearly enough especially at the hands of women, but that doesn't mean it's more or less important than a woman's SA

All SA survivors suffer and SA is the one crime everyone blames you for it ( women) or doesn't take you seriously ( men )

It's not a competition, stop making trauma a competition

The only reason Odysseus is a must to include unlike Penelope is because one actually happens in the story and the other doesn't

If both happened in the story both should be included just as much

Sorry for the long ramble, English isn't my native language and I'm trying to convey my thoughts as best as I could

[gareleia]

THE KNITTING SAGA BUT MAKE IT SAD

update: my co-writer friend FINALLY got a tumblr account, so I can tag them now!!

previously: part 1 part 2

next: part 4 part 5

lets talk about relationships, shall we. i'm gonna focus on Athena & Telemachus this time, but Hermes will have his turn later

let's be real, Athena is a hardass. sure, she cares, but she's so emotionally constipated that it really doesn't show that much. especially before she goes through that character development arc after her break up with Odysseus in My Goodbye

(and what a crisis that is)

(because her masterpiece??? failed her??? but she trusted him??? she made him much as in her image as possible??? he was supposed to be perfect???)

(and if he's not perfect, then she failed,,, and she can't fail, she doesn't fail,,, she's a goddess,,, war strategy is her domain, surely there is no way her plan could be flawed,,,)

(what even is the point of her if she's not perfect)

so yeah, she's a hardass. even on baby Telemachus who'd never held a sword before - especially on baby Telemachus, because he's the son of her favored Champion. he may be waaay younger than any of her previous pupils, but she's expecting him to shine just as bright.

Athena, on the first day: let's get down to business! make your father proud! you won't have a weakness! by the time we're done! you're the saddest pupil that I've had! and you haven't got a clue! but I will make a man outta you! Telemachus, a literal toddler, holding a wooden sword as big as himself: ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

and for years to come she trains him relentlessly. she's honestly trying to be nice about it, too. it's just that Athena doesn't do soft or gentle, her default is a neutral face of displeasure, and her idea of encouragement is saying 'you're not as bad as you used to be', or something along these lines.

Telemachus: *succeeds at something* Athena: *raises an eyebrow in a slightly different manner than usually* Telemachus: *le gasp* could it b-be? am I doing a good job??? Athena: it's… acceptable, for your age.

she never once tells him she is proud of him. because surely he already knows. he doesn't need to hear it. his father didn't, after all (ody so fucking did)

and this goes on until Telemachus reaches double digits. then My Goodbye happens, and Athena has Feelings™. she's having an existential crisis, and has to confront the fact that she had done something wrong while training Odysseus, and she can't understand what. which is terrifying, because what if she makes a mistake like that with Telemachus. will he fail her too?

will she have to leave him too, so she doesn't watch him die horribly in a tragedy that could've been prevented if only she had made him see-

so Athena doubles down and starts demanding more and more from Telemachus. the praise goes from sparse to non-existent, and nothing he does seems to be enough anymore. she goes from tough love to borderline verbal abuse, thinking that it's the only way to keep him safe and prepare him for the future.

and Telemachus endures. he has to, because he doesn't want his mother to worry. doesn't want to appear weak. Odysseus had done it, so it's only fair his son should too. and when his dad comes home, he'll be sooo impressed. he can do it!

except…. not really. it's been a losing battle since the beginning, and deep down he knows it. he can't win with Athena, not on his own.

???: if you want to impress her, you'll need the blessing of a certain god! divine intervention! someone who's not afraid to- telemachus: aeolus, what are doing in my closet?!

so anyway, Aeolus and the winions start helping him via winds and stuff, and Telemachus actually starts exceeding everyone's expectations. it's not that he'd been bad before, but he's soft, and not quite strong enough physically to make up for his gentle constitution

everyone is cheering him on. he's the talk of the palace! his mom is so proud! the suitors start sizing him up with consideration instead of dismissing him outright! (and tele, baby, that's not a good thing! ಠ_ಠ). Athena seems pleased for the first time in ages!! but he knows that it's all a lie, and it's killing him.

cause he's a good, honest boye, and he wants to succeed on his own merit, not because of cheating and lying to everyone he loves. that's vile and dishonorable.

que some very important island-wide competition that everyone is expecting him to join and win. maybe it's even his duty as a prince. like, a right of passage from complete boyhood to adolescence.

and there's,,, a lot of pressure on Telemachus to suceed. everyone and their mother are telling him that of course he's got this, he's a prodigy! def his father's son! nobody doubts his incoming victory! he's got this! he definitely won't disappoint them!

random noble: we'll be cheering you on, young prince! truly, we are blessed by the gods to have such a talented successor to the throne! we'll watch with keen eyes as you triumph over your foes and bring even more honor to your family! b(￣▽￣*) telemachus, eye twitching: y-yeah… thank you… (ㆆ _ ㆆ)

so, the night before the competition Telemachus can barely sleep, he's so wrecked by guilt and nerves. he keeps thinking - what would his father do in this situation? all the stories he'd ever heard of Odysseus always painted him as some kind of invincible, righteous, all-capable genius. so the idea of his dad ever grappling with guilt and feelings of inadequacy is just laughable. (oh, if only he knew)

so, he goes to his mom for advice. because Penelope is awesome. but he can't bring himself to admit that's he's cheating - what if she's ashamed of him? he brought dishonor to his father's name, and if anyone knows - will he get exiled?

so yeah, he basically has a panic attack and cries for like, half an hour straight.

telemachus, bawling: if I lose tomorrow, will you hate me? will dad hate me? I can't do anything right and I'm a failure and a horrible person and- just- what do I do, mother? penelope, holding him: oh, love. sometimes you're so similar to your father I wonder if the gods haven't returned him to me in spirit through you.

because no matter what everyone else says, Penelope knows the truth - Odysseus always followed his heart. oh, how he may have tried to forget he had one, to only ever use his head. but a heart he did have - does have, they have to believe that - and it's a bright and gentle one. he may have been hardened by years of pain and struggle in a way that Telemachus hadn't been yet (and Penelope's heart breaks from knowledge that her son will be, one day). but deep down, at ther cores, Odysseus and Telemachus are strikingly similar. and she loves them all the more for it.

and so, with his mother's blessing, the young prince does just as she told him to: follows his heart. he thanks Aeolus for their help, and asks them to stop giving it from now on. either he'll suceed on his own merit, or he'll wear his failure as a badge of honor and an incentive to do better.

and he loses. badly.

and the world,,, doesn't end? sure, the suitors sneer and jeer, but there's a surprising lack of disowning and exile going around. and the nobles tone it down significantly with undeserved adoration, which is definitely a plus, as far as he's concerned.

the only thing is. Athena.

oh boy.

because she's not stupid. Telemachus may have gotten away with cheating so far, but now he'll have to answer to her why he had flunked so badly, and she won't buy his go-to excuse of 'I got nervous!'

athena, expression unreadable: so. care to explain yourself, my stupid pupil? telemachus: w-well, you see… ha-ha… it's, uh… a funny story… athena: you threw away your best advantage! you've had a god perfectly willing to assist you and yet you still somehow managed to lose! telemachus: wait, what-

so yeah, Athena knew all along.

athena, mildly insulted: how stupid do you think I am, boy? telemachus: but! but! but!.. you never said anything! didn't even scold me for cheating! athena, even more insulted: child, I am the goddess of war strategy, where did you get the idea that I ever play fair and straightforward? leave that to ares, the simple-minded fool!

to clarify, she's not upset at him for cheating. she's upset that he stopped doing so. so she throws some choice words at him, implying he lacks both talent and intelligence

and Telemachus defends himself by saying that he'd rather fail on his own merit, than abandon his principles and win by lying and dishonoring his family. in response, she calls him naive.

he tries to implore to her connection to his father by saying that he was just trying to do what's right. he was following his heart, just as Odysseus had always strived to. and he's training to fight for his loved ones, not for glory of being known.

it's a one hit K.O., because it reminds Athena of her recent break-up with Odysseus. of everything they spat at each other during My Goodbye. of anger, of hurt, of disappointment, of betrayal, of I loved you and you failed me, of I loved you and I failed you, of good riddance! and y̶͈̔o̴̘̖͆u̶̻̱͆͒'̸̫̩̌̉r̷̼͝e̴̩̒ ̴͎̻̈́̎ȧ̸̦l̵̗͙͌̐o̸͚͕̚n̷̟̯͠e̵̳̩͠

and is their whole line just cursed? is this their way of punishing her for something? why do they both hurt her so? is it her fault?

telemachus: athena? are… are you okay? (‘-’*) athena, coming off MG flashbacks: well, obviously, boy, why would you even ask that (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Telemachus just hugs her, because she obviously needs it. and she melts into it like never before.

because she wasn't made for empathy or kindness. she's been born to be ruthless and cold. she's not supposed to love and be loved care about anything but winning. it doesn't come natural to Athena, until recently she had truly thought herself unable to, and yet-

yet here, right in front of her, is a boy who loves for the both of them. loves the whole world - sincerely, selflessly. a truly kind and caring soul (the nobles even joke that his true father is Polites).

she can't love.

but maybe… maybe he will teach her.

maybe he already did.

or maybe she always could.

she forgets sometimes, that her fingers know not only the roughness of swords and spears, but also the gentle softness of weaved silk. creation goes hand in hand with destruction, and she can bind countless threads together without breaking them.

and what are humans, if not strings, waiting to be cut by the fates?

also, if Telemachus can teach the goddess of cold cynicism and detached cruelty kindness of all things, then she can teach him swordplay.

yes, it's a threat.

[dootznbootz]

I know we love our morally gray characters. But the internet kinda ruined Circe for me.

Let me explain.

I remember I actually used to really like Circe's character when I first read the Odyssey last year. I loved her as a "helpful antagonist type" character.

But what ruined her character for me was everybody calling her a "girlboss" or just simping for her in a way? But they completely disregard the fact she technically raped a man. (But no one cares about that because male SA victims never get taken seriously, especially in media smh)

Now, I can never experience Circe as the same character because all I see is a terrible person being glorified because of her gender. And then people say double standards don't exist!

Which I hate cause she's a genuinely cool character. (From a writing standpoint)

Circe isn't a bad character let me be clear (in the Odyssey anyway. Cough cough Madeline Mil-) But I just hate how people romanticize her completely ignoring her terrible actions. And to think it's all just because she's a "hot badass female".

And this isn't just about Odysseus either, there's literally a myth where she tries to seduce a man, but when he remains faithful she turns him into a woodpecker-

People can like her CHARACTER, however, they should still acknowledge her bad actions too and hold her accountable. If we can all agree it's shitty what Zeus did to a bunch of women, we can also agree what Circe did to Odysseus was shitty.

Women sexually assaulting men is just as inhumane as vice versa and we have to stop turning a blind eye about it, even if it's fictional.

And I feel like people WOULD actually hold her accountable if she was a male character. Which makes me even more angry.

Maybe this is just a me thing, but I just can't fawn over a character and call them hot when they've done something as bad as some of the things Circe has done.

So, I guess what you could get out of this-

Please stop romanticizing circe.

Hold her accountable as you would any other character.

Don't be so forgiving just because you find her attractive.

Anyways, thank you for coming to my Ted talk and sorry for ranting

honestly yeah, all of this.

I sadly had to block Circe's tag on tumblr because it pisses me off how much people glorify her and/shittalk Odysseus with it. (I trust my friends when they have Circe content lol)

I love Circe as well. She's such an interesting and fun character but how people twist her just fucks with me so much. Also to make HER a victim just for girlbossness? What's so girlboss about having such a horrific thing happen to you?

I said it in a different post but you can thirst for Circe without making fun of her victim. People will call a victim of rape a manwhore or a slut as if what happened to him was a grand ol time. It's genuinely disturbing. He is shown to have PTSD from it (in my opinion) in the Odyssey. This book is ancient and yet it captures that better than anything I've read.

Odysseus isn't necessarily a wholesome, "goody-to-shoes" man. He does a lot of awful things. That doesn't mean that the suffering he went through is suddenly negated.

Even bringing up stuff with female characters, the fact that people will water them down so then they're not "problematic" pisses me off. Women can be horrible, even good women. Penelope is my fave but she's pretty awful in many ways.

Evidence will be right in front of people and they won't care. Crying, begging to go, fear, avoidance, numbness, etc. There'll be excuses anyway. "He's a guy, he's fine with it." "Men are sex crazed, especially back then." "He didn't try hard enough." "He should be grateful."

Honestly? What saddens me the most is that I don't think people will ever really understand what happened or even WANT to because they have their own idea in their head and refuse to see it for what it is. I mean Hades game did it too. It's really sad.

Circe and him weren't fwb. They weren't lovers. What about "heart full of grim forebodings" screams love? He wanted to save his friends and go home.

[polskasroka]

Tell Me a Story, Odysseus!

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Hades (Supergiant Games Video Games) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Melinoë & Odysseus (Hades Video Game) Characters: Melinoë (Hades Video Game), Odysseus (Hades Video Game) Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Written During Hades II (Supergiant Video Game) Early Access, Fluff, Found Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father Figures, basically a very wholesome fic, inspired by that in-game flashback sequence, little mel must be protected at all costs, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Word count: 1,569 Summary:

“Am I boring you with these, little Goddess?” Odysseus asks, amused.

“It’s no fun if I can’t see it all myself. Let’s do something fun.”

“I’m open to suggestions.”

“Tell me a story, Odysseus!”

Read on AO3 or below!

Working on yet another strategy against their enemy, Odysseus is staying up late once again. The whole Crossroads have long gone quiet, only some occasional crickets or frogs can be heard, rustling among the grasses or bushes. Sometimes the waters of the Cocytus ripple in the distance too but apart from that, nothing disturbs the peaceful silence-non silence of the woods.

That is until there’s something like a whimper echoing among the trees and Hecate’s big cauldron. It draws Odysseus’ attention away from the plans spread over the table for a moment, in which he’s trying to assess where the sound came from. However, since the noise doesn’t repeat, he shrugs and returns to the scrolls before him.

Not for long, though.

The next thing he hears is a panicked shriek that certainly originates from Melinoë’s tent.

Without hesitation, Odysseus abandons the paper he’s just held in his hands and strides to the front of the tent and stops before its closed flaps. Usually, he’d knock first but there’s nothing to knock at, so he puts his hand back down after reaching it up. He thinks for a second and then just decides to ask.

“Little Goddess, are you alright in there?”

He flinches only a tiny bit when the flaps flutter and little Melinoë is clinging onto his leg. His eyes full of sympathy, he looks down at her and pets her hair to soothe her, feeling her press herself even closer to his side.

“What’s going on?” he wonders in a hushed tone.

“Odysseus, that tall and dark figure is there again!” Melinoë squeals, her eyes tightly closed.

“Where? Tell me, so I can go and show them who this tent belongs to.”

“No! You can’t go there! He’s scary and… and…!”

“Ah! He won’t scare me, little Goddess! Your tactician here is too old to be scared by some…”

“No, please!”

Well, he’s not going to go anywhere while Melinoë’s basically glued to him. The poor girl is shivering and sniffling and Odysseus doesn’t have the heart to disobey her and terrify her even more. Even a quick peek inside can’t happen, so the tactician has to change his tactics.

Thus, he doesn’t even make a move towards the tent. Instead, he somehow manages to crouch down, so that he can now have the goddess stand in front of him. She’s all downcast, looking at the ground and rubbing at her teary eyes and the sight hurts Odysseus.

He takes her small hands in his to prevent her from irritating her glassy eyes further. Stroking Melinoë’s knuckles with his thumbs, he makes her lock her eyes with his. They’re sad and tired but Odysseus is going to change that. That little goddess will not go back to sleep all frightened and upset.

“Come with me and we’ll spend some time away from that horrible man that keeps you awake at night, what do you say?” Odysseus offers, his tone nothing but uplifting.

“But it’s past my bedtime! Hecate won’t be happy!”

“It’s past mine too, little Goddess! The Witch doesn’t have to know.”

He winks to the goddess and her face lights up immediately. Joy reappears in Melinoë’s mismatched eyes and she smiles while some stray tears remain on her cheeks. Odysseus promptly wipes them away and stands up, smirking to himself at the little mischief he’s just come up with.

Melinoë turns around and starts heading towards the tactician’s post but she hasn’t taken more than five steps before she’s snatched by Odysseus, lifted up and given a piggyback ride. She screeches and then presses her hand against her mouth not to wake up the entire Crossroads as she’s enjoying the ride to Odysseus’ trusty desk, giggling in the meantime.

His heart’s growing at Melinoë’s happy noises and the wide smile on her face as he sits her on the table is priceless. She scoots a bit to let him make more room for her as he’s collecting the most interesting maps of Erebus that he wants to show her.

“Can I go there yet?” she asks after studying the current map of the forest for the last couple of minutes.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Can I go there if you come with me, then?”

Melinoë looks at Odysseus with her big, hopeful eyes but he has to disagree once more.

“That’s unfair!” she huffs, folding her arms over her chest.

“One day, when you’re big enough, you’ll be able to go there all on your own. Isn’t that worth the wait?” Odysseus challenges back, quirking an eyebrow up.

“All I do is wait and wait… I want to see more of Erebus, Odysseus! There must be so many new spots to hide. Just imagine playing hide and seek there!”

Melinoë muses silently for a bit and then says, “can you talk to Hecate, Odysseus? Ask her to take us there?”

“I can try, little Goddess, but I am not promising anything. That alright?”

“Yes! Thanks! You’re the best!”

Melinoë listens to Odysseus explain all the hidden forest paths that he has been discovering and dutifully copying onto the scrolls but the young goddess she is, she starts to get bored soon. But she’s also polite, so she hides it for as long as she can. Her patience has its limits, though, and while she thinks that she’s been focused on Odysseus rambling about all these drawings for hours now, it’s been only a quarter of an hour.

So, at one point, Melinoë yawns. Politely, of course.

“Am I boring you with these, little Goddess?” Odysseus asks, amused.

“It’s no fun if I can’t see it all myself. Let’s do something fun.”

“I’m open to suggestions.”

“Tell me a story, Odysseus!”

“A story, aye?” He leans his hands against the edge of the table and squints at Melinoë. “Which story?”

“About you and your friend sneaking up on the bad men and stealing their horses!”

Odysseus smiles at the fond memory that happens to be the goddess’ choice for today’s second bedtime story.

“We stole a chariot too but let me start from the beginning…”

He sits on top of the table and Melinoë takes her spot right next to him. She leans her head against his arm and sighs deeply, relaxing as she tunes into Odysseus’ flowery and winged words.

As always, he really gets into the spirit of the days long gone, both to keep himself awake and to entertain Melinoë as best as he can. She is indeed amused but sleep’s more powerful than the young goddess and it begins to embrace her sooner than she’d like. Obviously, Melinoë’s doing all she can to resist it but her eyelids grow far too heavy to keep fending the sleep off.

It’s not the first time that Melinoë nearly dozes off while listening to one of Odysseus’ stories about his mortal life. It’s actually happened so many times, that he knows precisely when to end his monologue and call it a day. But before he does that, he takes off his cloak and wraps it around Melinoë, so that she doesn’t get cold on the way to her sleeping mat.

Careful not to let the goddess fall off the edge of the desk, he keeps an eye on her while hopping off of it himself and then scoops her into his arms to carry her back to her tent. She cuddles into him, visibly content to be enveloped in Odysseus’ huge cloak.

“Will you steal a chariot for me too, Odysseus?” she mumbles sleepily.

“I’ll steal as many of them as you ask of me, little Goddess,” he answers softly, quietly. He’s also tired by now.

“And build me a wooden horse?”

“Aye. Just let me gather some wood for that.”

“Mhm…”

By the time they’ve entered Melinoë’s tent, she’s fast asleep and seemingly nothing can rouse her from this blissful state. Odysseus still won’t risk it and lets her keep his cloak for the rest of the night (or day) as he puts her on her sleeping mat all gently.

So much for not waking her up, though.

Just as he’s about to get up and out of the tent, Melinoë reaches out her hand and grabs one of his fingers.

“Don’t go, Od…” she mutters, barely opening her weary eyes.

Her tiny voice grips Odysseus’ by his heart. Can he say no to her? Can he say no to the Princess of the Dead who clearly doesn’t want to stay there in her tent, all alone, vulnerable to nightmares and tall, dark figures disturbing her rest?

“Your wish is my command, little Goddess.”

She snuggles up first to the cloak she’s got around herself and then to Odysseus who makes himself comfortable next to her, on the blankets that cover the ground beneath. Melinoë lets out a satisfied exhale and falls asleep in no time. Odysseus soon follows.

During their sleep, Melinoë manages to climb or roll onto Odysseus chest. Feeling the weird weight pressing against him, he wakes up to check what or who is blocking his lungs which haven’t been even working for years now, probably. Yet, the phantom reflexes have never left his body.

Odysseus sniggers under his breath upon seeing the culprit. He couldn’t be less bothered by it, so he wraps one arm around the slumbering goddess in order to prevent her from falling back onto the ground.

[mademoiselle-red]

TC chapter 6 reread thoughts, part 2

A rush of old memories went through Laurie like a pain. “I’ve never noticed […] that the competition to take things on was as killing as all that.” I love how Laurie takes Ralph’s side and tells him he’s done nothing wrong. One of my favorite aspects of their relationship is their camaraderie, the feeling that Laurie is playing on Ralph’s team. That’s also what makes the horrible crap he says to Ralph in chapter 16 so terrible: for the entire book, Laurie has been Ralph’s cheerleader, cheering him on when he’s feeling down or when other characters put him down, but then Laurie suddenly joined the others in denigrating his character from a position of superiority 😢

“He was staring at Ralph, who was standing in the thick of the crowd, hard and crisp and gay, laughing at someone’s dirty story, his battle-scars put neatly out of sight. I wonder what the punishment is for heresy, Laurie thought.” Here, his idealized image of Ralph as some otherworldly higher being who is above crude human desires is challenged, and he finds himself so compellingly drawn to Ralph that he can’t simply ignore it and retreat into his fantasy version of Ralph. But again, his revulsion at Ralph laughing at someone’s dirty joke is really the pot calling the kettle: “Gareth. That’s what my stepfather-elect’s called. I suppose he was conceived with Tennyson in limp suede sitting on the po-cup-board.” Reg coughed repressively. […] He sometimes found Laurie’s conversation highly obscene, and would have voiced his disapproval to anyone he had liked less.” Ralph would have laughed at Laurie’s obscene joke and Laurie would have been pleased 🤷‍♀️

My favorite Laurie lines from this chapter: “If you mean Ralph Lanyon […], he’s a friend of mine, I’ve known him for years.” And, “It’s the Odyessey all right. It’s the one where the man comes back from war and finds the flash boys on his pitch and runs them out.” Again, despite many reviews pointing out Ralph’s attempts to insert himself into Laurie’s life, we see here that it was Laurie who made the first move, showing up to the party acting like he is Ralph’s boyfriend in front of all his friends. Like, consider this party from Ralph’s point of view: guy you haven’t seen in seven years and kissed one (1) time crashes your ex-boyfriend’s party to see you and “only you”, follows you around with his eyes like a love-sick puppy, starts telling everyone that he has known you for years (Ralph: um, we had like one (1) conversation, but sure), and declares to your would-be suitors that you are the Penelope to his Odysseus (Ralph: I was not aware of being married with just one (1) kiss, but ok). Just who is being presumptuous and “proprietary to the point of arrogance” here? No wonder people at the party were like, who the fuck is this guy and what the hell happened to Bunny, his actual boyfriend???? Like, Laurie, you can’t just act like a guy’s boyfriend and then be all surprised when he thinks you wanna be his boyfriend 🤣🤣🤣

“[Ralph] went off rather stiffly to the drinks table. Really, he can be awkward, Laurie thought, but he felt no serious discomfort.” Awwwwww Laurie’s thoughts are so tender. And Ralph being awkward in front of Laurie is simply too adorable 🥰

“Now we’ll see something, thought Laurie not without satisfaction.” It’s so interesting to me how Laurie expects Ralph to react to Bim with contempt, but Ralph surprises him by reacting with gentleness and compassion. And this prompts Laurie to see past Bim’s “hard glitter” and see his “feverish and taut” demeanor. Like, Ralph is actually a soft and gentle person underneath that hard layer of self protective roughness.

“Not the Odell?” I love this parallel to chapter 12: not the R R Lanyon? They’ve both been telling their loved ones about each other for years ❤️❤️❤️ (Lucy & Alec: 🤝)

Laurie throws a jealous fit and wants to leave the party because Ralph is driving Bim home. “He’d be up before the major and have his passes stopped for a month; but, he thought bitterly, there wouldn’t be much hardship in that.” We can infer from this line of thinking that Laurie was already expecting to see Ralph regularly and was planning to use his late passes for this purpose. Renault conveys this to the reader in such an indirect way, showing how Laurie is unaware of the desires that drive his thoughts. Consciously, Laurie hasn’t made any kind of “choice” to date Ralph, but unconsciously, he has already committed his future late-pass evenings to Ralph, and this is before Ralph has even asked him out! I think throughout the book, Laurie makes a lot of decisions and choices, especially w.r.t. Ralph, without acknowledging them. And this is one such example. He’s not a passive participant being dragged into a relationship by chance and Ralph’s will.

“What makes me cross about people like Ralph is the way everyone used them. [….] Their life gets like one of those ham spy films where they brief the agent and say, “But remember, one slip and you’re on your own.” This is such an apt description the way Ralph has been abandoned by everyone and every institution his entire life! one slip, and his parents beat him, one slip, and he was thrown out of school and home, one slip, and he lost his naval career, one slip (that wasn’t even his fault), and Laurie seems to have abandoned him too. Until Laurie comes back and becomes the only person to not abandon him when he doesn’t live up to their expectations. Laurie is the only person who loves him enough to allow him to fail ❤️❤️❤️

“Ralph’s tragedy is that he’s retained through everything a curious innocence about it.” It being the idea that “sacrifice uplifts the redeemer and casts down the bought.” I don’t agree with this observation about the nature of sacrifice, but I do think Ralph is unaware of the way his giving nature coupled with his unwillingness to receive help leads to a “trade deficit” in his relationships, which breeds resentment. He showers his loved ones with love, but doesn’t give them the opportunity to dote on him in return.

“You said he’s in a spot. […] Can I do something? […] No, tell me, please, if I can do something. I want to know.. […] I’m not sleepy. When Ralph comes back, if he’s in a fix you’ve got to wake me. No good keep talking about he’s in trouble, and not do anything.. […] I won’t go away. I’ll wait for him here if it takes all night.” All Laurie wants is to be able to do something for Ralph 😭😭😭 like, screw the rules, if Ralph’s needs him to, he’ll stay all night. All Ralph has to do is say he needs him 😭😭😭 (Ralph: I can’t admit I need Spuddy! I need to be strong and brave in front of him! Or he won’t admire me anymore and he’ll leave me 🥺🥺🥺. Me: 🤦‍♀️)

To be continued…

[ronniesan2006]

I WANT TO CONTRIBUTE TOO-

My contribution is based on reinforcing the idea of ​​changing gods during God Games, mainly with Hestia and Dionysus. But I'm going slowly.

Artemis changing with Apollo, not only because they are siblings and the counterpart of each other, but because there are quite a few aspects that Artemis could reproach Ares about Penelope (although I consider that like Apollo, she doesn't know her well and just made the first mistake that occurred to her, lol). The first one: Why would Penelope deliberately slaughter wild animals? Didn't she first wonder if those sheep had an owner? Of course Penelope is wrong

"You know I love wild animals, but hunting is something that shouldn't be taken as a game. Knowing that those sheep belonged to someone, I think Penny is wrong"

I have a feeling that Ares would answer her something like this

"Sadly, she learned the lesson the hard way, but I'm sure that because of that event, something of this caliber will never happen and she will be more careful when hunting"

Personally, my favorite change, Hephaestus with Hestia. Here, Hestia, would not only be the most difficult to convince (for me) but she would also be touching on an important subject. Penelope went to war and let the fire of her family go out because of her absence and it gets worse if we consider that with her, an important member of that family, Ctimene (Odysseus' younger sister) went.

"I think the punishment they gave that warrior is fair. She left her family, which caused her home to become cold to the point that it doesn't feel like a home anymore and don't get me started on the fact that she took someone very important to that family…"

Ares would clearly be nervous, and I can even imagine how, unlike how he showed up with Artemis, he took off his helmet as a sign of respect towards his aunt and spoke kindly.

"Hestia, protector of the home fire, let me tell you that her sister in arms forgave her and also, I promise you that if you help me free her, she will return to her home where that flame will rekindle in your name" (Hestia would accept a little reluctantly)

Dionysus, at first it made me a lot of noise because I said "But- he never participated in the Trojan War" and then I remembered that this is an AU and it's horrible to limit creativity (xd). Well, the things that Dionysus reproaches Ares would be how Penelope let her father drown in wine out of sadness and he died with a broken heart for not seeing his daughter. Ares rolling his eyes when he hears Dionysus speak as well as Athena when she sees Aphrodite

"Your little and beloved Penelope, says she loves her father very much and yet, she let him drown in wine and in his own sadness"

"She was fighting"

"Rather, mocking the cursed nymph. Why don't you let her also drown in infinite pain, just like her poor father and finally rot?"

"Wait!… Please reconsider"

And I'll only leave those three because I'm still in doubt with Athena and Zeus (How curious). I really love this AU and I wanted to contribute with ideas that I had and this also helps me to organize my ideas and be able to write my own fanfiction xd

UPDATED WARRIOR! PENELOPE AU SWAP LIST!!

Characters who swap:

-Penelope 🔁 Odysseus

-Ares 🔁 Athena

-Hera 🔁 Zeus

- Ctimene 🔁 Eurylochus

- Aeolus 🔁 Polites

-Tiresias(the prophet) 🔁 Circe

-Aphitrite (Poseidon’s wife) 🔁 Poseidon

-Calypso 🔁 Antonious

-Scylla 🔁 Polyphemus (the cyclops)

-Dionysus 🔁 Aphrodite

-Artemis 🔁 Apollo

-Hestia 🔁 Hephaestus

Characters who don’t swap:

-Telemachus

-Hermes

DISCLAIMER!!

This might change over time since I’m still developing this AU and I’m the kind of person who changes ideas constantly, if anything changes then I’ll leave it here

[sunlitmcgee]

I am having more thoughts about the Iliad and epic the musical .

In the Iliad , we see the trogan's pov through the interactions Hector has with everyone.

One thing we see is that Hector's son , who's name starts with an A but I can't remember the rest of it. Hector's son is absolutely terrified of his dad when Hector has his helmet on. Kid was very small and cried until Hector took his helmet off.

Remember how I said epic the musical starts with Odysseus getting orders from the gods to go murder a child?

Yeah it's Hector's son.

And once Odysseus sees that Hector's son is a small little baby, he tries to bargain for the boy's life, trying to suggest other ways to ensure the boy isn't a threat, while not killing the boy .

He even suggests to raise the boy as his own. And the gods won't let him . More accurately, they say if he does the child will grow up to murder Odysseus's wife and burn his kingdom to the ground.

The gods peace out to leave Odysseus to do the deed , with one last message. " The blood on your hands is something you won't lose, all you can choose is whose."

Odysseus starts to think. He's just a man who wants to go home, who would trade the world to see his son and wife. He is just a man , however , he questions, when does a man become a monster?

Which has a double meaning.

The first, reason is for Odysseus himself. He is just a man acting out the will of the gods. He feels that he has no choice in the matter, because the gods are so powerful, any moves against their will would be foolish. But would carrying out their will this time would mean murdering a child. A child that has done nothing but live. Would murdering this child make him a monster, even if the gods approve of the murder?

The other meaning is for Hector's son . Right now he's just a boy. A child. But when will the child become a monster fueled solely on revenge? As far as Odysseus knows , if he lets this child live , it will not be an if the boy will become a monster, but a when. Because it's what the gods for told him would happen.

So he is left with a horrible choice.

On the bright side, I saw a head canon that instead of murder, Odysseus has a baby with him for the rest of the musical, and is very honest with him about the whole where he came from thing, to avoid potential wife murder down the line .

Odysseus just coming home to his wife and mentioning , "hey we have a new son I found him in Troy." And I 100% believe his wife would be down for this, she would just be happy to see her husband.

Prophecy-anon

oh the baby being scared of the helmet though.......small baba... ittle

[gay-furry-poseidon-lover]

"dont pick and choose" where is this enthusiasm for any other crimes that are blantly stated as happening in the musical?

Epic the Musical isnt meant to be perfectly accurate to the original poems. In Epic, we get "seven years shes kept you trapped out of your control, time can take a heavy toll." And then Calypsos songs from her perspective. They are emotional songs, thats like... what musicals are supposed to do, make you feel stuff. Lots of people dont interpret Epic Calypso as a rapist, because its not explicitly written to send that message.

Are we gonna talk about The Odyssey or are we gonna talk about Epic the musical. They are different. "people like Circe," In the Odyssey, Odysseus did not have a choice to sleep with her. He had to. Its not that people just suddenly dont care that she assaulted him, its that Epic is showing us a different version. And Epic's Calypso is shown differently as well.

"I spent my whole life here, was cast away when i was young, alone for a hundred years, i had no friends but the sky and sun," This is what we get about Epic's Calypso's back story. That is different from versions of the myth where Calypso just goes and lives on an island.

However you feel about her is fine, youre allowed to not like her, to hate her even. But this is a fictional character based on a fictional character in a poem from a very long time ago. These arent real people. Odysseus is not on the internet, hes not reading posts about people analizing Calypsos character in a musical and feeling victim blamed or retraumatized. And if you relate a lot to Odysseus and that makes you hate Calypso thats fine. Not everyone sees her in your same context though, and thats not an attack on you. If this is something that is so distressing to you, block people who post about her, hit not interested, stop engaging with it. Take care of yourself. But you don't get to just decide that nobody can like this character ever, and that if they do they're a bad person who thinks rape is okay.

Works of fiction aren't real. Obviously I think that killing a baby is horrible, whether the gods told you too or not. But I still love Ody. That doesnt mean I dont care if people kill babies. I enjoy Zeus's character and songs even though he forces Odysseus to choose between the life of his crew or his own, which is like definitely immensely traumatizing. Enjoying his part in the musical doesnt mean i think thats good?

A lot of characters from greek myth have raped people. But we have the understand that obviously that is bad and wrong, and we would never be fans or sympathize with abusers in real life. At least I do. I havent seen a bit of discourse about Zeus (one of the most famous aggressors) or about any other gods. People enjoy them freely, and thats generally fine.

Why is Calypso treated so differently. Like i don't think anyone is literally arguing that rape is good and its okay that Homer's Calypso did that, nor are they saying that to any victims in their life. And if they are, obviously thats bad. But people just enjoying this character isn't.

May I just point out that calypso is apologising (no matter how backwards it comes off ) only when Odysseus was finally freed by someone else from her.

And that until then she was still actively pushing Odysseus’ Boundaries??

Lighter mot or no she kept this man against his will for seven years. And she didn’t GROW UP on that island. She had a life before that— that led her to be trapped by the gods.

Like she IS a sympathetic and tragic character but let’s not act like she’s innocent.

“for seven years she kept you against your will”

THIS DAMN LINE. LISTEN. BLOODY LISTEN TO IT ALL. DONT PICK WHAT YOU CHOOSE.

There’s a REASON people don’t have an issue with Circe. Are happy to see her as a FRIEND to Odysseus. CALYPSO IS NOT THE SAME CASE.

[caldez]

I’m Coming

So I was listening to the Hadestown soundtrack, and got the idea for a Caleo AU. Also find it on AO3

He's coming back. He's actually coming back.

Calypso watched the dragon in the distance nearing Ogygia. Many heroes had landed on her island, but none like Leo Valdez. For one thing, none of the others had ever made her feel the way he did. Like she was the first priority, like she was worth something.

And for another, he was coming back.

Festus landed on the beach and Calypso hurried to him.

"Valdez!"

She barely heard the reply, "Cal..?"

Leo slid off his dragon and onto the sand. His clothes, his unruinable clothes, were ruined, but Calypso didn’t care about that. She only cared about Leo, who despite being a fireproof son of Hephaestus, had wounds that looked suspiciously like burns all over his body.

"Leo? What happened? Are you alright?"

"Not really, he said, "I'm sort of... dying..."

"You are what?" Calypso knelt down beside him. She grabbed his hand, “My healing magic, I can help-“

"You can't. An oath to keep with a final breath,” he quoted the line of the Great Prophecy, “I've kept my oath, and now I'm running out of breath,"

"You promised we were going to open Leo and Calypso's Garage," she felt tears running down her face, "How am I going to do that without Leo? I may be able to sing, but I know nothing about auto repair,”

"I'm sorry, Cal.." he said, "I..."

Calypso felt Leo's hand go limp in hers.

She was an immortal titaness who’d lived through multiple wars. Death was nothing new to her. But Leo���s passing hurt more than watching her family lose the First Titan War. It hurt more than when she first banished to Ogygia. It hurt more than every time she’d watch a hero sail away.

She looked up at Festus, "Come on, let's take him back to camp,"

———

She was greeted at Camp Half-Blood by a dark haired boy dressed all in black.

“Leo is-” she began.

“Dead,” said the boy, “I felt it earlier. But Hazel said the physician’s cure might work... It didn’t, did it?”

Calypso shook her head.

The funeral was a blur, and when it was all over, her grief had been replaced with anger. how dare the gods leave her alone for three thousand years, and when she finally got her freedom, it was at the cost of Leo's life. The first person who ever cared about her enought to come back, and now he was dead.

What a sick joke the Fates had played on her.

Afterwards, she headed to Cabin Nine, hoping to maybe find something of Leo’s in his bunk. On the way, she was intercepted by none other than Percy Jackson.

"Calypso," he asked, “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure,”

“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I’m sorry I forgot about you. I’m sorry the gods left you on Ogygia. I’ll do anything to make it up to you,”

“Anything?” Calypso got an idea, “You have been to the Underworld before, haven’t you?”

“A few times,”

“Can you show me how to get there?” she asked. The gods had taken plenty from her, but she wouldn’t let them take him.

———

It was raining when she and Percy arrived at Central Park. He’d shown her the pile of rocks that hid a gateway to the underworld, but wouldn’t accompany her farther than that.

“Hades isn’t really my biggest fan,” he’d said, “I’d hurt your chances more than anything,”

Now he was gone, and Calypso stood alone facing the Door of Orpheus. "Okay," she muttered, "Musical invocation,"

She sang one of her favourite songs, the one she’d used to help Leo with his bronze mirror back on Ogygia. The rocks cracked open, revealing a triangular crevice. There were steps leading down into the Underworld.

”Wait for me Valdez,” she whispered into the dark, “I’m coming,”

Calypso took a drep breath and began her journey down. It was a long walk, but she eventually she reached Hades’ palace. The skeleton guards didn’t move to stop her as she walked straight into the throne room.

It was summer, meaning she couldn’t count on Persephone’s kindness to help her. Calypso would face the god of the dead alone.

“Calypso,” said Hades, “It’s been a long time,”

“A lot longer than it should have been,” she replied, “You gods claim to be so perfect, yet you have horrible memories,”

"I admit we may have been wrong to forget about you, but that you’re here and not up on Olympus screaming at the rest of them,"

“There was only one person who did not forget,” she said, “And he is here,”

"The Valdez boy. Of course you’re here for him,"

"Leo should not have died. He came back for me, and I am coming for him,” Calypso looked at Hades, “Let him go. I’ll consider it penance for breaking your promise to free me,”

"Fine then,” Hades sighed, “But there is one condition,"

"What?"

"The son of Hephaestus will walk behind you. You will not call out to him and you will not look back until you leave my realm,"

She nodded, "Of course,"

She walked back the way she came, listening for Leo's footsteps behind her, but she could hear nothing. She could the hushed voices of the dead, the dead, the water rumning in the underworld's many rivers, but not Leo.

What if he isn't there? she thought, I should expect nothing less from a god.

The gods had punished her for three thousand years, this would just be one last slap in the face.

As she neared the exit, the urge to klook back became stronger. A peek wouldn't hurt, would it?

But that was Orpheus's mistake, and Orpheus was a foolish hero. Like Odysseus. Like Drake. Like Percy.

But not like Leo.

She took the last steps out of the Underworld and to New York.

"Sunshine?" it clearly wasn’t a comment on the weather, seeing as it was pouring. Calypso turned around and saw him.

"Leo Valdez," she said, his name on her lips better than any ambrosia.

"I can't believe you came for me," he said.

"Of course I did. It was only fair,"

He wrapped his arms around her, "Fair, huh?"

They kissed as the rain fell around them, washing away the traces of cursed islands and death, leaving only a boy and a girl who had come for each other.

[darkwalker1131]

a solangelo fanfic

Solangelo

Dark and brooding I thought while thinking about will… I am dark and brooding and will not fall for a stupid son of apollo I thought while stealing glances towards his table at lunch. But what if I have a chance. But he isn't gay, is he?

-Will pov-

After treating Nico the son of hades I felt something, a feeling… I had a crush on Nico but he probably does not like boys… right?

-Later-

"Hey Will," Nico said after subconsciously walking towards his table after breakfast.

"Hey Nico you don't need to come back to the infirmary i already gave you a clean bill of health". Will replied with a slight frown

I know, I did not come here because of that, i just wanted to talk" Nico replied with a sheepish grin, that Will never thought he would see on the son of hades.

"Okay you want to go to the lake" will said to Nico

"Sure," he said with a smile

-Lake-

(3rd person with character thoughts)

Nico and will walked up to the pier and sat down our feet dangling off the side our feet skimming the water.

"So what do you want to talk about," I asked

"I was wondering if you want to go out sometime," Nico said his face heating up

"Like on a date," Will said smiling this was the lucky day he was going to propose the same idea later that day Will was also ecstatic his crush was asking him out this is great!

"Uh yeah… only if you want too" Nico replied nervously

"Sure, that sounds great I would love to," Will said

"Really?" Nico asked incredulously

"Yeah sure where do you want to go, we could go to a spot I found a few years back it's in the woods there's a clearing and a forgotten picnic bench also the dryads are really nice"

"Yeah that sounds good how about tomorrow" Nico replied finally looking will in the eyes after his blush seeped out of his cheeks

"Sure" Will replied with his trademark blinding smile

-Next day-

So i was supposed to meet will at the spot in one hour, he told me the directions yesterday. I looked horrible i stayed up all night thinking of things to say and stuff.

Finally deciding that this would be casual I headed out with my usual attire although i did grab a new pair of jeans.

I walked through a small path exactly how Will described and ended up in a clearing the size of my cabin in the middle was will in a baby blue suit sitting on the picnic bench with a basket of food in hand (so much for casual).

"You look great," Will said to me I figured he must have been sarcastic and or joking, but when i looked at his face his expression looked completely genuine.

Sit will said smiling whilst patting the spot next to him, not across from him right next to him the thought surprising did not make me sick (sitting that close to someone) instead all i felt was comfort as I sat down next to will his presence literally radiated a warm feeling.

"So how are you" Will asked awkwardly

"Great" Nico answered shortly

"What games did you play when you were a kid" Will asked

Well i liked mythomagic though you probably have never heard of it Nico answered

"Mythomagic!, that was my favorite game, my favorite was Odysseus he had the best-ranged attacks I always admired him "will said

"My favorite was Achilles he was the best" Nico replied, they continued chatting about mythomagic until the sun started to go down. As the sun started dipping will got up and smiled "that was great Nico i hope we can do it again some time" i enjoyed it too finally admitting his feelings for solace to himself. He resisted the urge to kiss will, luckily he was satisfied by this urge when will gently placed his lips to my cheek he withdrew smiling at my stunned expression and he walked off

-Next week-

I glanced over at a smiling will looking in my direction as i caught his gaze he looked away with a blush.

After finishing my breakfast i decided to talk to will maybe go on another date i thought happily

I walked up to will who gave me his signature blinding smile "hi" he said

"Want to go on another date, but i get to choose the place," Nico said to will

"Okay sure, I guess you have been thinking about it a lot, which means you have been thinking about me" will said with a grin

I blushed furiously "yeah, so," Nico said trying to control my blush.

So when" Nico asked

"Maybe tomorrow" will replied

-Tomorrow- We arrived at a mortal Italian restaurant of Nico's choosing.

Will smiled at nico as they sat down right next to each other on the booth, again all i felt was wills warm presence.

nico smiled back. We ordered our food Will got a large calzone, Nico got a pasta

"Do you usually eat that much?" Nico asked in awe

Will smiled " only when im enjoying myself"

Nico and will started chatting about random topics for an hour.

"The sun's going down, i should go will said to Nico while getting up.

Okay great nico replied slightly saddened

Will noticed and said "hey i know its only been two dates but do you want to be my boyfriend" Will asked. Nico looked up at will as if thinking why me, Will seemed to know what he was thinking "because your smart funny and fun to be around" Will replied to the look nico gave him.

At this nico blushed but said yes.

-Next day-

Will decided he would visit his boyfriend early in the morning.

Will arrived at the hades cabin with a smile on his face.

Will knocked on the door

"Who in Hades is knocking on my door at 6 am" came a reply, the door opened revealing Nico in skull pajamas when he saw will his expression softened "what are you doing here," he asked calmly.

"I came to say hi to my boyfriend" will said happily

"It been only a day," Nico said

Well do you want to go to breakfast together" Will asked

"I could give you a doctors note and you can sit at my table," Will said, at this Nico brightened by the idea of not sitting by himself, "ok sure" Nico replied

After sitting at the apollo table next to Will, nico got a few weird looks and a few knowing smirks from the aphrodite cabin. Chiron galloped over where will and nico were sitting "hello Will and Nico why is nico sitting here" uh he needs to he is not fully healed, doctors orders" will says handing Chiron a note. Okay, ill allow it for now.

-4 months later-

In four months Nico and will have not told anybody about our secret relationship though they were sure some people had their suspicions in 4 months they had gotten alot more comfortable around each other.

Nico and will were walking on the path to get towards the dining pavilion for lunch when will suddenly leaned up to Nico and kissed him "what are you doing" mumbled nico

Will withdrew smiling "sorry i just had to do that" will and nico looked around to see campers looking at them all with a face of surprise, Will just smiled and continued walking towards the dining pavilion.

When they arrived they could not only see but feel the eyes on them some kids were smirking as if they knew it all along, i guess word travels fast,

Breaking the silence Will yelled "hi as you know this is my boyfriend Nico di Angelo" he said it as if nico was the greatest thing that ever happened to him. Instead of blushing Nico just smiled and sat down next to Will.

-4 and a half years later of peaceful dating-

Hey Nico Will said hi replied Nico, latching his hand to Wills. Over the years they had become so comfortable with each other they never got embarrassed while showing public displays of affection Will smiled leading Nico down to a different part of the creek he had found a few days ago.

Where are we going Nico asked his face scrunched up in confusion Will replied saying "you'll see"

They walked for a few more minutes in comfortable silence when they arrived at the creek, this part of the creek looked wilder with Beautiful smooth gray stones on the forest floor while large oaks loomed over them.

Nico looked at Will nervously, Will just smiled pulling a wooden box out of his pocket.

"Nico di Angelo, my death boy, the last 4 years have been the best of my life and i intend to spend the rest of my life with you, Nico di Angelo will you marry me"

"Oh my gods yes" Nico replying his eyes wet

Will pulled out a beautiful celestial bronze ring with inscriptions that read Nico and Will, sun and dark shall live together till their dying days. It's beautiful Nico exclaimed while Will put it on his finger. Then they kissed, it was not like any other it was filled with passion and love when they withdrew both of them were smiling. They walked together back to the hades holding hands, Nico and will were content with each other and that was enough, arriving at the hades cabin they opened the doors and headed to Nico's bed, cuddling each other to sleep.

[inviouswriting]

Greek meme answered

No asks so doing them~

Aether- Name?

Invi

Anteros- Sexuality?

Pan-Demisexual / Demiaromantic - Or basically... got to make a connection to love you.

Apollo- Gender?

She/her/they/them

Ares- Favourite movie?

Moana... I actually like it for the fact it is one of the few Disney films not sole focused on romance. 

Artemis- Favourite time of day?

Midnight. I’m able to really focus on my thoughts and write effectively.

Asclepius- Favourite animal?

Bats~ I love them.

Athena- Favourite thing to learn about?

Astrology and Astronomy.

Atlas- Favourite myth?

Medusa.

Cerberus- Dog or cat person?

Both, but lean more towards cats. There is something that a purring cat in your lap is a little more satisfying and healing.

Cronus- Favourite food?

Reese’s

Cyclopes- What’s your favourite joke?

Stupid puns. Any dumb pun will make me laugh.

Dionysus- Favourite drink?

It’s almost discontinued... but I loved the iced tea lemonades from starbucks. 

Eros- Are you in love?

Does the characters in series count? If not, no. and not looking.

Hades- Greatest fear?

That one day everything I have ever created will disappear.

Helios- Night or day person?

Night.

Hephaestus- What is your favourite form of art?

Waterscapes.

Hermes- Do you like traveling? Where is one place you want to travel to?

Yes, I want to visit the Salar de Uyuni in person.

Hypnos- On average, how much sleep do you try to get every night?

6 or 8 hours. Work depends on it.

Icarus- How would you describe yourself?

Easy going, but selective of who I let into my inner circles. Been hurt too much.

Labyrinth- Do you have a good sense of direction/do you get lost easily?

I have a horrible sense of direction. I get lost going anywhere, even places I’ve already been to. My work gets mad at me for being late at times. like sorry I have a condition.

Medusa- Do you have any pets?

1 cat that lives with my mother. 

Odysseus- Do you finish tasks quicker, or does it take time for you to get through them?

I’m a bit of a procrastinator.  If I don’t sit down and have myself focus I bounce from project to project all day.

Pandora’s Box- What is a mistake you’ve made that you regret?

Not finishing school the way I should have. I hated high school, so it took longer to get a diploma... went through a GED course. 

Pegasus- What is your relationship with your parents like?

Strained. Mother keeps pushing religion on me and I rather she didn’t. My father is dead.. he was a horrible person.

Persephone- What is your “type”?

Pretty sure it is kindness and lovely eyes.

Phobos- Do you think it’s okay to be afraid of things?

Yes. No one understands the trauma behind what you feel when you feel it, nor will they interpret the same feelings. It is important to never relate your fears thinking one is worse than someone else’s. You don’t know what happened to cause that fear.

Poseidon- Do you like to swim?

Yes.

Prometheus- If you could have any one ability, what would it be?

Teleportation or flying.

River Styx- What do you think happens when we die?

Spiritually, we enter a different state of existence. Physically? well we die.

Titans- If you could go anywhere in time, when would you want to go?

Probably to the time to prevent one of my traumas from happening. So I can still look at things happy without remembering “this happened.” 

Zeus- Favourite weather?

That nice sunny weather that is just a little bit warm but also not insanely hot. Or summer rain.

[bunni-v1]

No because he’s soooo Odysseus coded it’s not even funny.

He’s trying his best for so long to do the right thing, stay loyal to the Tsaritsa and try to live by his own moral code as much as possible. Protect the innocent people in his life from his shame, and make his Archon proud simultaneously, but at some point he just can’t anymore.

He can’t hide who he is forever, and he knew that. You would inevitably see him for the monster he’s been since joining the Fatui, he was just hoping it would be on better terms…

Childe had picked an incredibly reckless fight, outnumbered one to a hundred. His men were supposed to come for backup, but in the end they had failed to report, leaving him alone. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t handle it by himself, the rush of being outnumbered was fun for him. He took out his enemy without much physical effort on his part — he was the Tsaritsa’s weapon, of course.

Still, as he stood victorious among unrecognizable bodies on ground so soaked in blood it had become soft beneath his feet, he knew that he should have retreated. He was loosing blood, fast. The entirety of his dress shirt was stained crimson, most of it not his own. He was lightheaded, his limbs screaming at him to lay down, but if he did he knew he likely wouldn’t get back up.

The nearest medical center was too far, he wouldn’t make it unless his brethren managed to stumble upon him. Unlikely. The only option was you.

You lived nearby, close enough that he could walk there. He wouldn’t involve you if he had a choice, but with the way the world was spinning… well, he couldn’t leave you alone in this world either.

He stumbles his way through the bodies, gripping at his side as he makes it to your front door on instinct. It’s all his strength to knock on the door, leaning his weight into the doorframe. He almost thinks you won’t answer — he wouldn’t blame you. It was late and this place was crawling with shady types recently.

Yet, he hears shuffling, and you crack the door open to peer up at him. Surprised delight crosses your face, smiling as you open the door wider. He tries to match it, but fails as your eyes roam over the rest of him. He can see the panic come over you in seconds, ushering him in to your bedroom and making him lay on your perfectly clean sheets. Staining them. Tainting them. Ruining them.

He does his best to ignore the poetic symbolism he would soon echo with your relationship. Instead peeling his clothes off as you patiently work on patching him up. You know somethings off, he can tell in the way you bite your lip, holding back your questions until he’s cared for. Always so considerate of others with your big heart, a heart he was entirely undeserving of.

You wrap the gash in his torso so carefully, cold hands keeping him grounded in reality so he doesn’t pass out on you. You give his food to eat and water to drink, and you wipe the blood from his face like it was any other mess. You won’t ask what happened, but he can feel the question burning in your gaze. Why wouldn’t you want to know?

The least you deserve is an explanation, some kind of tangible reason as to why your sweet little Ajax was covered in more blood than his wounds necessarily implied. The inevitability of crushing one of the last things that let Ajax remain Ajax had come.

He swallows, taking a deep breath, “I’m sure you’re curious what happened?”

His voice is still somehow light, clinging onto the hope that you won’t shun him. Not like his family has, not like his people have. He couldn’t handle it if you did too.

“I’m worried,” You sigh, pressing your fingers to his cheek, “you were… covered, Ajax. How could that have happened?”

A shaky breath, barely preparing himself for the heartache he was about to ensue, “I am not the kind and Gentle Ajax you’ve known since you were seven. I’m… I’ve become someone— something else. I’ve done horrible things, I’ve abandoned my morals in the name of my Archon — And I would do it again and again so long as she asks. Have you not noticed the way people look at me now? The fear in the eyes of our old neighbors and friends?”

You watch him carefully, expression unreadable. His heart pounds in his rib cage a million miles a minute, ready to give out when you reject him. Yet, you take a shaky breath and instead ask, “What kinds of things have you done?”

He bites at his chapped lips like that might save him from reality. He’d fought some of the most treacherous battles in Teyvat, faced off against gods and sovereigns, survived a fall into the abyss… yet this was the most nervous he’d been in his life. Funny how war can numb you to so many horrible things, but manages to leave you vulnerable to petty feelings like love and hate.

“I have killed thousands…” He begins, eyes falling to the floor, “I enjoyed killing thousands. I’m nothing more than a weapon for the Tsaritsa to use, and I’m proud of that fact. I nearly crushed an entire nation on her orders, I have betrayed friends for her sake and I would continue to do so in the name of her goals… I- I’m not the same person, I can’t keep you safe from that anymore.”

There’s a crack in your strong mask, a twitch of some kind of emotion he couldn’t quite distinguish, “You promised me you’d always protect me…”

“I’ve never broken that promise,” He squeezes out, breathless, cradling your face in his hands as habit, “Never. I would never— I made an oath to you. The first oath I’d ever made. I don’t care if I was seven and acting childish, I would never break those, I’ve never broken any promise to you. I will always protect you, don’t you ever doubt that.”

Your face shifts between hurt and anger and sadness, unable to rest among the whirlwind your heart was going through. He just wanted you to scream and push him away, get the torment over with. You don’t, he knows you won’t. It’s not in your nature.

“If you remember that, and you still uphold it, then you are my Ajax,” You say sternly, sending a pang through his chest, “Don’t you ever tell me you are anyone else. I know who you are, no matter what you’ve done, you’re always my Ajax. And I will fall in love with whatever iteration of you that crawls itself to my front door over and over again until you understand that.”

For the first time in years — maybe since he’d fallen into the abyss — he cried. Salty wet tears streaming down his face, ones you kissed away with reverence. Allowing Ajax the opportunity to rest, for the very first time since he’d joined the Fatui.

He presses his face into the side of your neck, inhaling your scent so deeply. It smelled like home — here in your arms he was home. He wasn’t a harbinger here, he wasn’t a weapon, he was simply Ajax. Your Ajax. He only needed the reminder.

everyone shut the FUCK up. epic the musical 'would you fall in love with me again?' x childe where he's sheltered his spouse / partner from the extent of his violence and abyssal corruption and they find out.

[thejudgingtrash]

My unpopular opinion: Chiron is a horrible teacher, protector, whatever. He’s as bad dumbledor. He often manipulates children and put them in danger? Also is RR really trying to tell me not one single demigod from before percy’s generation made it to adulthood? Not even demigods of minor gods? If not then why haven’t we heard from them, why weren’t they called to fight in the war so that literal children didn’t have to? I have more but I’m not brave enough to post them lol

Fuck, I gotta check my asks more often. Too much stuff laying around and oh please people! Send your stuff in! Don’t be shy! It’s so interesting to see what’s on your mind! Let’s have that conversation and ask me!! :D I mean a bunch of people agreed and disagreed with my stances (Part 1/Part 2), let’s see how I feel about yours!

Anyway HERE WE GO BOYS! LET’S GO LESBIANS LET’S GO! 

LET’S HAVE THAT WHOLE DAMN ESSAY!

Chiron is clearly a self insert from Riordan. I mean come on…

That’s a solid Chiron if I see one. Which is pretty ironic as Chiron’s the shitty teacher who we all know and love. Got something to admit, Riordan? You as a former teacher? HMM?

Hiding incompetence under the disguise of the gentle old wise teacher is definitely something that Dumbledore and Chiron share. Chiron is the old centaur who lived for aeons and helped out the most famous heroes of their times, so shouldn’t modern times be considered to be an easier job for him? He’s barely present, highkey vague and has absolutely no problems with tossing children literally out into the open across the entire fucking US and A to clean the gods’ bathroom messes.

Had the heroes been in their 20s like in the original myths (or even older) it would’ve made more sense to let them find their own ways. It would be rude,  but somewhat okay. You could expect adults to find the way and connect the dots. But this is just messing with a bunch of 12 year olds because you can at this point.

Chiron is that supposed sweet teacher that just fucks up. We all had one, you know the one. Seems gentle and nice and but has clearly chosen the wrong job. Don’t know if that’s the trauma of living that long and/or seeing kids dying constantly that’s hitting him in the back of the head.

I have the feeling that people are projecting their teacher fantasies on to him just like step-father fantasies that include Paul. Because we want a guide who is trustworthy, we want an authoritative figure that we can share our concerns with and who guides us to solid solutions without betraying our trust.

But like I said, he’s essentially sending out kids to deathly missions and encouraging deep traumas. Yes, we can partially blame Chiron, but most of the blame goes to the gods who enable and encourage this weird dynamic. Would all of them straight up cut the bullshit and mostly resolve their own issues without using their children as pawns, it would’ve been easier for everyone involved. Additionally, there are many kids in camp to keep busy, look after and care for. I don’t know how many there were pre-TLO but I’d assume the number was in the hundreds? Of course, in larger cabins are camp counsellors that help out and guide next to camp schedules. But since Percy’s the only kid in the Poseidon cabin I guess that thought went south? Percy being the special kid would actually mean that there should be a focus on him unless you’re going for the “I’m neutral” spiel. Chiron knew from day one that Percy was walking Poseidon seed, come on.

Also like I somewhat implied, seeing people die left and right might have impacted Chiron to make him feel indifferent/despressed (could also be a stretch, who knows). Which isn’t an excuse, but might explain some takes. Explaining the same stuff for millennia in its essentials is probably getting tiring.

I think this is the third time that I mentioned it on my blog but showing and telling are the most powerful story telling concepts/fundamentals and you see Rowling and Riordan constantly failing at that which is concerning. Instead of Chiron (or Dumbledore) just simply getting down to the point and telling and explaining stuff briefly, he only eludes, vaguely formulates and it is simply confusing especially for a child in a brand new environment who just lost his mother (if we’re speaking about TLT). This does nothing but add more stress in such a fragile situation especially when a new and bigger threat makes its way.

There’s also the discussion on how much of Greek myth Percy actually gets. He has the basic/ obvious knowledge which many tend to forget. He doesn’t come in with no knowledge. He had Latin classes back at the academy, he studies with Annabeth, he knows some of the monsters. What he simply doesn’t know, is the magic of it all. That is the most confusing part for him.

The actual magic is not explained, which it doesn’t have to be in all of its entirety, but needs to be addressed somehow and gradually.

Percy asking a simple question like how the camp stays sunny and covered 24/7 and how the wardens work and Chiron casually sitting here like you a stoopid one

doesn’t help.

What many people forget: Magic doesn’t erase logic. Even in a magical setting, unless clearly stated, there has to be some kind of logic to connect the dots. It doesn’t need to be a clear cut A to B, but it should be comprehensible for both the readers and the characters in a particular situation. And that’s just not happening for Percy as the character. This also sets up the premise of Percy being ”stupid” which he isn’t. He is surrounded by incompetent teachers and staff that don’t bother telling him how things work and assume that he’ll just manage.

Yeah. Both Dumbledore and Chiron are awfulness in a sweet calm disguise.

Onto part two of the ask. I have had so many talks with people on that exact problem. It simply boils down to one issue:

Rick Riordan‘s inconsistency in world building and setting. The story telling doesn’t make any sense.

So kids are dying like flies before 18 but many are also super famous and in powerful positions? Many are historical figures that made it well over 18? Make that make sense. Also was WW2 supposed to be kicked off by some 12 year olds with that logic? The biggest man made catastrophe of the modern era boiled down to a bunch of fighting kids? No. We all know it. Just simply no. I actually don’t mind the WW2 background but Riordan should’ve given it another thought and be a bit more sensitive…? Like the whole fascist gang being team Hades? Uhh… sure…. nope.

Also the same logic applies to Civil War? You’re telling me a bunch of kids were supposed to have started this stance? Who was for and who was against slavery then? What in the actual fuck? Using children as child soldiers to stand in for these large complex historical issues that stretch over years and show many of humanity’s horrifying sides is just….eh.

No. This whole thing about campers dying as soon as they reach the magic number of 18 are either bedtime stories to scare the kids or toughen them up orrrr my guess, Riordan actually managed yet again to fuck up his own lore.

It’s the same logic with New Rome. You have a whole city full of adults but have a few kids run that bitch? You did your ten years of service as a child soldier and then do one of these?

As if adults magically exit this world. Like is that the reason why Percy’s been 17 for a whole damn decade? Because otherwise he gotta hand riptide in and all of the boys scout medals he has collected so far? Adults would’ve had the experience and expertise to win those fights but it would break the magic and charm of the books that a bunch of kids are saving the world for the younger demographic. Let’s do not forget that the targeted audience of the books are middle schoolers. Makes somewhat sense with PJO but with HOO Riordan really shot himself in the leg. He should’ve matured the OG characters at least.

(Also speaking about the actual myths again. A good chunk of them died in their 20s/30s/40s. Odysseus guided as an old man. The heroes weren’t twelve and dipping by the age of 16. The Trojan war went on for 10 years for example. So whereas the real Perseus lived a longer life and had a somewhat happy ending in comparison to his peers, he wasn’t the only one that made it into adulthood.)

Riordan mixing up his own lore is just a shame. Yes, it’s human and he already gets a lot of flag for other stuff. I also get it as a writer with my fanfic where I really have to scroll up to search tiny details that I’ve embedded and not noted down. Perhaps it’s my inner capitalist speaking, but for I’m way more forgiving towards a free product, a gift like a fanfic, rather than something I’ve paid actual money for when it comes to this. The process of publishing a book is large. You mean to tell me that there was no editor at Disney that bothered to fact check? Riordan got a check from us all and doesn’t even bother looking up his own stuff. A little bit more effort, Ricardo. Please. You have an entire damn wiki you could use to check for free if you’re too lazy to read your own books/don’t use authors softwares. Like what?

It’s stupid. You know it, I know it. And as you can see, I fully agree with you.

[loretranscripts]

Lore Episode 26: Brought Back (Transcript) - 25th January 2016

tw: racism, colonialism, live burial, slavery

Disclaimer: This transcript is entirely non-profit and fan-made. All credit for this content goes to Aaron Mahnke, creator of Lore podcast. It is by a fan, for fans, and meant to make the content of the podcast more accessible to all. Also, there may be mistakes, despite rigorous re-reading on my part. Feel free to point them out, but please be nice!

No one wants to die. If the human design was scheduled for a revision, that’s one of the features that would get an overhaul. Our mortality has been an obsession since the dawn of humanity itself – humans long for ways to avoid death, or at least make it bearable. Some cultures have practically moved heaven and earth doing so. Thousands of years ago, the Egyptians built enormous stone structures in order to house their dead and ensure them a place in the afterlife. They perfected the art of embalming so that even after death, their bodies might be ready for a new existence in a new place. Death is a reality for all of us, whether we like it or not. Young or old, rich or poor, healthy or sick, life is one long journey down a road, and we walk until its over. Some think they see the light at the end of it all while others hope for darkness, and that’s where the mystery of it all comes in: no one knows what’s on the other side. We just know that the proverbial walk ends at some point, and maybe that’s why we spend so much time guessing at it, building story and myth and belief around this thing we can’t put our finger on. What would be easier, some say, is if we just didn’t die, if we somehow went on forever. It’s impossible, but we dream of it anyway. No one returns from the grave… do they? Most sane, well-adjusted people would say no, but stories exist that say otherwise, and these stories aren’t new. They’ve been around for thousands of years and span multiple cultures, and like their subject matter these stories simply refuse to die. One reason for that, as hard as it is to believe, is because some of those stories appear to be true. Depending on where you look, and who you ask, there are whispers of those who beat the odds. Sometimes the journey doesn’t end after all. Sometimes, the dead really do walk. I’m Aaron Mahnke, and this is Lore.

The quintessential zombie movie, the one that all the commentators say was responsible for putting zombies on the map nearly 50 years ago, was George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead. The creatures that Romero brought to the big screen managed to influence generations of film makers, giving us the iconic zombie that we see today in television shows like The Walking Dead. The trouble is, Romero never used the word “zombie” to describe the creatures from his landmark film. Instead, they were “ghouls”, a creature borrowed from Arabian folklore. According to the mythology, ghouls are demons who eat the dead and, because of that, are traditionally found in graveyards. But Romero’s ghouls were not the first undead creatures to hunger for the flesh and blood of the living. Some think that honour falls to the Odyssey, the epic Greek poem written by Homer nearly 3000 years ago. In the story, there’s a scene where Odysseus needs to get some information from a long-dead prophet named Tiresias. To give the spirit strength to speak, Odysseus feeds him blood. In a lot of ways, the creatures we think of today as zombies are similar to the European tales of the revenant. They’ve gone by many names – the ancient Irish called them Neamh-Mhairbh, meaning “the undead”; in Germany they are the Wiedergänger, “the ones who walk again”; and in Nordic mythology, they’re called the draugr. The name “revenant” itself is Latin and means “the returned”. The basic idea is pretty easy to guess from that – revenants were those who were once dead, but returned to haunt and terrorize their neighbours and family. It might sound like fantasy to our modern sensibilities, but some people really did think that this could happen.

Historians in the Middle Ages wrote about revenant activity as if it were fact. One man, William of Newburgh, wrote in 1190 that, and I quote, “It would not be easy to believe that the corpses of the dead should sally from their graves, and should wander about to the terror or destruction of the living, did not frequent examples, occurring in our own times, suffice to establish this fact, to the truth of which there is abundant testimony. Were I to write down all the instances of this kind which I have ascertained to have befallen in our times, the undertaking would be beyond measure, laborious, and troublesome”. Newburgh goes on to wonder why the ancient writers never mentioned events like these, but doesn’t seem to take that as proof that revenants are pure fantasy. They mentioned all sorts of boring things, mundane and unimportant, so why not the unnatural and unusual? He was, of course, wrong – the ancient Greeks did have certain beliefs surrounding the dead and their ability to return to haunt the living, but to them it was much more complicated, and each revenant came back with its own unique purpose. You see, the Greco-Roman culture believed that there was a gap between the date of someone’s actual death and their intended date of death. Remember, this was a culture that believed in the Moirai – the Fates – who had a plan for everyone. So, for example, a farmer might be destined to die in his 80s from natural causes, but he might instead die in an accident at the market or in his field. People who died early, according to the legends, were doomed to wander the land of the living as spirits until the day of their intended death arrived. Still with me? Good. So, what the Greeks believed was that it was possible to control those wandering spirits – all you needed to do was make a curse tablet, something written on clay or tin or even parchment, and then bury it in the person’s grave. Like a key in the ignition of a car, this tablet would empower someone to control the wandering dead. Now, it might sound like the world’s creepiest Martha Stewart how-to project, but to the Greeks magic like this was a powerful part of their belief system. The dead weren’t really gone, and because of that they could serve a purpose. Unfortunately, that’s not an attitude that was unique to the Greeks, and in the right culture, at the right time, under the right pressure, that idea can be devastating.

In Haiti, the vast majority of the people there are genetically connected to West Africa to some degree, up to 95% according to some studies. It’s a remnant of a darker time, when slavery was legal, and millions of Africans were pulled from their homes and transported across the Atlantic to work the sugar plantations that filled the Spanish coffers. We tend to imagine African slaves being shipped to the new world with no possessions beside the clothing on their backs, but they came with their beliefs, with their customs and traditions, and with centuries of folklore and superstition. They might not have carried luggage filled with precious heirlooms, but they held the most important pieces of their identity in their minds and hearts. No one can take that away. There are a few ideas that need to be understood about this transplanted culture. First, they believed that the soul and the body were connected, but also that death could be a moment of separation between the two. Not always, but it could be – I’ll explain more about that in a moment. Second, they lived with a hatred and fear of slavery. Slavery, of course, took away their freedom, it took away their power. They no longer had control over their lives, their dreams, or even their own bodies. Whether they liked it or not, they were doomed to endure horribly difficult labour for the rest of their lives; only death would break the chains and set them free. Third, that freedom wasn’t guaranteed. While most Africans dreamed of returning to their homeland in the afterlife, there were some who wanted to get there quicker. Suicide was common in colonial Haiti, but it was also frowned upon. In fact, it was believed that those who ended their own life wouldn’t be taken back to Africa at all. Instead, they would be punished. The penalty, it was said, was eternal imprisonment inside their own body, without control or power over themselves. It was, in a sense, just like their own life. To the slaves of Haiti, hell was just more slavery, but a slavery that went on forever. These bodies and trapped souls had a name in their culture: the zombie. It was first recorded in 1872, when a linguistic scholar recorded a zombie as, and I quote, “a phantom or ghost, not infrequently heard in the southern states in nurseries and among the servants”. The name, it turns out, has African roots as well. In the Congo they use the word nzambi, which means the spirit of a dead person. It’s related to two other words that both mean “god” and “fetish” – fetish in the sense of manufacturing a thing, a creature that has been made. The walking dead, at least according to Haitian lore, are real.

What did these zombie look like? Well, thanks to Zora Neale Hurston, we have a first-hand account. Hurston was an African American author, known for her novel Their Eyes Were Watching God, and regarded as one of the pillars of the Harlem Renaissance. And it was while researching folklore during a trip to Haiti in 1936 that she encountered one. In her book Tell my Horse, Hurston recounts what happened. “I had the rare opportunity to see and touch an authentic case”, she wrote. “I listened to the broken noises in its throat.... If I had not experienced all of this in the strong sunlight of a hospital yard, I might have come away from Haiti interested but doubtful. But I saw this case of Felicia Felix-Mentor which was vouched for by the highest authority. So I know that there are Zombies in Haiti. People have been called back from the dead. The sight was dreadful. That blank face with the dead eyes. The eyelids were white all around the eyes as if it had been burned with acid. There was nothing you could say to her or get from her except by looking at her, and the sight of this wreckage was too much to endure for long”. Wreckage. I can’t think of another word with as much beauty and horror as that, in the context. Something was happening in Haiti, and the result was wreckage, lives broken and torn apart by something – but what? The assumption might be that these people had all attempted suicide, but suicide is common in many cultures, not just in Haiti. When you dig deeper, though, it’s possible to uncover the truth, and in this case, the truth is much darker than we like to believe. Zombies, it turns out, can be created.

On the night of April 30th, 1962, a man walked into Albert Schweitzer Hospital in Haiti. He was sick and complained of body aches, a fever and, most recently, coughing fits that brought blood up from his lungs. Naturally, the medical staff were concerned, and they admitted him for tests and treatment. This man, Clairvius Narcisse, was seen by a number of medical doctors but his condition quickly deteriorated. One of his sisters, Angelina, was there at his bedside, and according to her his lips turned blue and he complained to her about a tingling sensation all over his body. But despite the hospital’s best efforts, Narcisse died the next day. Two doctors, one American and one American-trained, each confirmed his death. The man’s sister, Angelina, signed the death certificate after confirming the man’s identity. Because she couldn’t read or write, she did so by pressing her thumbprint onto the paper, and then his family began the painful process of burying their loved one and trying to move on. Death, as always, is a part of life; never a pleasant one, but a part nonetheless. Over 18 years later, in 1981, Angelina Narcisse was walking through the market in her village, something she did nearly every day. She knew the faces of each vendor, she knew the scents and the sounds that filled the space there, but when she looked down the dirt road toward the small crowd of people something frightened her, and she screamed. There, walking toward her, was her brother Clairvius. He was, of course, older now, but it was him. She would have recognised him anywhere, and when he finally approached her and named himself with a childhood nickname, any doubt she might have had melted away. What followed was a whirlwind of revelations as Clairvius told his sister what had happened to him, and it all started, he said, in the hospital room. According to him, his last moments in the bed there were dark, but fully aware. He could no longer see anyone, and he couldn’t move, but he remembered hearing the doctor pronounce him dead. He remembered the sound of his sister weeping. He even remembered the rough, cotton sheet being pulled up and over his face. But awareness continued on to his funeral, where he claimed to hear the procession. He even pointed to a scar on his face – he claimed that it was the result of one of the coffin nails cutting him. Later, the family brought in a psychiatrist, who performed a series of tests on Clairvius to see is he was a fraud, but the man passed with flying colours, answering questions that no one but Clairvius himself could have known. In an addition, over 200 friends and family members vouched for the man’s identity. This, all of them confirmed, was Clairvius Narcisse.

So, what happened to him? According to Clairvius himself, he was poisoned by his brother over a property dispute. How? He wasn’t sure, but shortly after his burial, a group of men dug up his coffin and pulled him free. That’s a thought worth locking away deep in the back of your brain, by the way: trapped inside a coffin beneath the earth, blind and paralysed, cold and scared. It’s a wonder the man didn’t go insane. The men who dug him up were led by a priest called a Bokor. The men chained Clairvius and then guided him away to a sugar plantation, where he was forced to work alongside others in a similar state of helplessness. Daily doses of a mysterious drug kept them all unable to resist or leave. According to his story, he managed to escape two years later, but fearing what his brother might do to him if he were to show up alive, he avoided returning home. It was only the news of his brother’s death many years later that coaxed him out of hiding. The story of Clairvius Narcisse has perplexed scientists and historians for decades. In the 1980s, Harvard sent an ethno-botanist named Wade Davis to investigate the mysterious drug, and the result of his trip was a book called The Serpent and the Rainbow, which would go on to be a New York Times bestseller as well as a Hollywood movie, but few agree on the conclusions. Samples of the drug that Wade collected have all been disproven, no illegal sugar plantations staffed by zombie slaves has ever been discovered, and the doctors have been accused of misreading the symptoms and prematurely declaring the man dead – there are so many doubts. To the people closest to him, though, the facts are solid. Clairvius Narcisse died, his family watched his burial in the cemetery, he was mourned and missed, and 18 years later he came back into their lives. The walking dead: medical mishap or the result of Haitian black magic? We may never know for sure.

Stories of the walking dead are everywhere these days. It’s as if we’ve traded in our obsession with extending our life and resigned to the fact that normal death, the kind where we die and stay dead, might be better. We fear death because it means the loss of control, the loss of purpose and freedom. Death, in the eyes of many people, robs us of our identity and replaces it with finality. It’s understandable, then, how slavery can be viewed through that same lens. It removes a person’s ability to make decisions for themselves – it turns them, in a sense, into nothing more than a machine for the benefit of another person. But what if there really are individuals out there, the Bokor and evil priests, who have discovered a way to manufacture their own walking dead, who have perfected the art of enslaving a man or women deeper than any slave owner might have managed before, to rob them of their very soul and bind them to an afterlife of tireless, ceaseless labour? In February of 1976, Francine Illeus was admitted to her local hospital in Haiti. She said she felt weak and light-headed. Her digestive system was failing, and her stomach ached. The doctors there treated her and then released her. Several days later, she passed away and was buried in the local graveyard. She had only been 30 years old. Three years later, Francine’s mother received a call from a friend a few miles away. She needed her to come to the local marketplace there, and said it was urgent. Francine’s mother didn’t know what the trouble was, but she made the journey as quickly as she could. Once there, she was told that a woman had been found in the market. She was emaciated, catatonic, and refused to move from where she was squatting in the corner, head down, hands laced over her face. The woman, it turned out, was Francine Illeus. Her mother brought her home and tried to help her, but Francine seemed to be gone. She was there in body, but there was very little spirit left. Subsequent doctors and psychiatrists have spent time with Francine, but with very little progress to show for it. On a whim, Francine’s mother had the coffin exhumed. She had to see for herself if this woman, little more than a walking corpse, truly was her daughter. Yes, the woman had the same scar on her forehead that her daughter had, yes, they looked alike, yes, others recognised her as Francine, but she needed to know for sure. When the men pulled the coffin out of the earth, it was heavy, too heavy, they murmured, to be empty. More doubtful by the minute, Francine’s mother asked them to open it, and when the last nail had been pulled free from the wood, the lid was lifted and cast aside. The coffin wasn’t empty after all – it was full of rocks.

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