THESEUS.

THESEUS ANGELOS. financial fixer for khton corp / charming goon / king in another life

[goldentheseus]

theseus sarris angelos, he/him, thirty-two. financial crime. indebted to tartarus.  [  a brief history  |  dossier  |  wanted connections   |   skeleton   ]

written by kat (she/they, pst). 

[goldentheseus]

minotaurus​.

There’s a said about grief, about the initial response to death — but there seems to be a consensus is that denial is what people tend to go for first. Mino had gone through it, had surpassed it already: had accepted the cold, hard fact that death had finally sunk its teeth in one of them and had moved onto the next logical step. Anger. Or rather, rage. A willingness to rip the universe apart with fury. To undo the very foundation of existence, because existence had ceased to be for someone he loved.

But Theseus offers denial. He denies the claims laid at his feet, even if they are laid there through angry impulse and desperation, and responds with denial. Mino can’t help it, when he starts to shake. What is it, that makes his muscles tremble? He can’t tell you. It could be the wish to drown in that denial, in the words that Ariadne isn’t dead and accept it as reality. It could also be the distrust he feels towards the man in front of him, the idea that this denial is feigned, that Theseus knows full well that Ari is dead because of yet another plan of his.

He takes a step back. His fists are balled, skin stretched to its full extent, the white of bone showing — but they hang by his body, as powerless as he feels. “It’s nothing to do with Than, whatever the fuck happened to him. Nothing with whatever fucking body I dragged from the ocean earlier, either. He’s dead, he’s dead.” He has to repeat it. He has to remind himself of this truth because he wants to flee in the reality where it isn’t true. My brother is dead, my brother is dead, someone killed him and I didn’t stop it, he’s dead. It is the cruellest mantra of all. “He’s dead. Someone killed him, and I don’t know who.”

And whoever did would pay, even if it was Theseus. He skirts away and he thinks he might cry and maybe he wants it to have been Theseus because then, at least, this anger has a direction to head in. In stead, it lingers, it simmers, it festers and rots. “So, did you? Did you do anything, did you tell — did you tell anyone on this fucking boat that Ariadne isn’t Ariadne, that he’s not Kalion, either, that he’s someone else entirely? Did you, Theseus? Did you?” 

He needs something to blame, because if there’s nothing there’s just him, and Mino doesn’t know how to redirect this rage onto himself without ripping himself apart at the seams. There’s tears again, and he whips back to look at Theseus. He wants a punching bag, he wants the cruelty that’s been allowed to grow and blossom in the depths of Tartarus. But — to unleash that on Theseus who says Ariadne isn’t dead, with a certain conviction? It’s never really been about righteousness, but still. One of the people he vowed to protect was dead, and now another stood in front of him. Who was he, if he were the one to cause harm, now? So he doesn’t. In stead he just reiterates the truth he’s still trying to grasp: “He’s dead.”

“no,” theseus reiterated. what else was there to say? the unstoppable force of theseus’s denial met with the immovable force of mino’s certainty. “you’re wrong.” but it started to crack, that denial. his arms wrapped around himself, and he stilled in a way that was so against his nature because this conversation was so against their nature. 

“you’re wrong. i don’t know how you’ve gotten it so wrong, but you did. you see, he can’t be dead, mino.” he tried to keep his tone matter-of-fact, but he could hear the quiver enter it, the rush of knowing that he was wrong, even as he spoke, even as he tried to prove that he was right instead. “i thought of hurting him, yes. i was going to hurt him, yes. but all those ways i wanted to hurt him were meant to show him -- show him that we were worth more than all the wealth, the power, the fake fucks he left us for.” it was humiliating to admit, but the words dragged themselves from him, raw and desperate. 

he did not want to flinch away from mino. he did not want to flee. he approached mino despite the anger that rolled off of him; it was the first time that theseus thought the minotaur had earned his name, so animalistic was his pain. and instead of reaching for mino, theseus dropped to his knees before him. 

“i only wanted to hurt him so that he might return to us.” begging, begging him to understand. the shame of it made his face flush. but it was mino. for mino, he would shed the gold from his crown; he already had. “so that we might all be together again. i didn’t tell anyone anything. it was our business. my business. do you think i would let anyone else have that? do you think i would end him in such a pointless way?” 

he did not say: i did not hate him. he did not say: i might have killed him, once.  

he did say one word, spoken as if it was his last: “please.” 

[goldentheseus]

patroclusc​.

-

The more Theseus talked the more Patroclus wasn’t truly inclined to believe his words but he’s not a rude person nor was he looking for an uncomfortable evening, but rather simply to enjoy the ball that was happening around them. “Pontius is great in the summertime, there are plenty of pools and activities to go around.” Children? Patroclus mentally sighed, he’s just going to go with the whatever story the man in front of him wants to tell. “I wouldn’t know about any tutoring programs, but I’m sure we have them.” Patroclus was quiet for a few short moments. “Pontius is safe, I don’t remember the last time we have an incident.” In his opinion it was much, much safer than Tartarus. 

well, that was not what he wanted to hear, although he supposed he shouldn’t have expected much else. he ought to take this whole i have children show on the road to learn more information from others too. “i am so glad to hear that. there is nothing more important than keeping our children safe. do you know who i might talk to about what measures pontius takes to ensure that?” he gave his most genuine, salt-of-the-earth smile that he could muster. “i’m sure you can understand -- paris and petros are just little rascals, and i have to make sure they don’t outsmart anyone. they caused quite the mayhem in arcadia. i’m terribly proud.” 

[goldentheseus]

herarhearp​.

goldentheseus​:

“ah… c’est tragique. i bow to your whims, madam, as heart shattering as they may be.” besides, so long as she was amused by him, he knew he stood a better chance of earning her affections than zeus rhea at the moment. ( not that he spent longer than a beat thinking this, worried as he was that zeus might infer the thought and strike him down with lightning where he stood. or worse… that hera might infer the thought and cut their delightful banter short. ) 

“i have long since held the belief that children understand something that adults lose touch of – life is for living, dear. why should we not reach for joy whenever we see the opportunity?” he held up his hands in faux surrender. “nowhere scandalous, i assure you. nowhere at all, if you’d rather not. as i said, i bow to your whims. if you asked me to stand atop the highest point of the ship and sing my praise of you, i would do so to prove that my intentions are good.” good may be a stretch, but the sentiment stood. 

.

“Because we grow up and we have lives to build, not just to live. But there is wisdom in the way children approach life, I’ll admit.” It’s just so far behind Hera, that freedom to do whatever you wish, without a single thought to the consequences. Even as a child, she hardly had the chance to just be, with the weight of her family’s future resting on her tiny shoulders back then. To take her fate into her own hands, Hera had to let go of a lot. 

“I’ve had enough scandal for a dozen lifetimes, so I appreciate the consideration. And there is no need for such dramatic gestures. Just stay on your best behavior.” If he was capable of behaving. Either way, Hera was curious about the distraction this chaotic man offered. She might not follow her own random wishes, but it was entertaining to watch someone else live that freely.

[ END. ]

[goldentheseus]

minotaurus​.

where — theseus’ quarters when — red dawn rising, middle of the night with — @goldentheseus

He can hear it in his ears, his heart beating, his blood pumping and he almost has to wonder if his eyes are red. They might be — he’s been crying, he thinks. He can’t quite the confines of his body at present, when he shoves a Pontius security team member aside to keep walking when they’re supposed to be on lockdown the sound is hard. This is primal, familial rage. It’s not denial: that step has been moved on from long ago, abandoned in his own room. 

Death was always on their heels. He just always expected it to get to him first.

Mino knocks on Theseus’ door, or perhaps bangs is the better word. If Pontius was made of anything less strong, the hinges would creak, the wood would budge, he might even consider breaking the thing completely. But soon enough he’s there, whipping the door open and Mino stares at him, then pushes through, past him, shoulder blade against shoulder blade. There’s none of the usual warmth in this touch, . The door’s kicked shut, eyes trailing through the room and then he looks at Theseus when he knows they’re alone. “Did you do this? Theseus, I swear to Chaos, tell me you didn’t do this, that you didn’t go this fucking far —” What would he say? That Ari killed them, in a way, because Ari had taken their futures? What would he say to justify his own greed, this time? Mino inches close, his height used to its full advantage. (He knows how to intimidate, after all: that’s what he does best.) “You kill him? Did you kill my brother?” Maybe, distantly, he wonders if this is a miscalculation — but Mino has cooped up his anger for half a decade and now it is white hot, blinding, nothing else he is able to see.

theseus had returned to his rooms after a long, long night. there had been something sickening to seeing thanatos so neatly, so nearly destroyed; there had been something unsatisfying to it too. theseus wanted to ruin, but what had happened was not ruination, it was a pure and exploding violence. 

and then the banging at his door, the pure and exploding appearance of mino. 

at first, he thought mino was speaking of thanatos, and he was almost humored that anyone thought him capable of such a feat. as if theseus angelos would beat someone senseless and risk ruining his baby soft hands? no, thank you! and then that phrase, that damnable phrase that mino and ari had so loved, that phrase that he had loved about them in turn.

my brother.

theseus blinked, the whole world shifting to the right -- as if there had been an earthquake only he felt, as if it was still going and going and going beneath him now. he saw this scene. he saw them. he saw how it might end, and he felt afraid. 

“what are you talking about?” but it was there, in every piece of mino. the burning heartache, the spilling pain. the anger. and it was directed at theseus. had this been ariadne’s goal then? but that did not make sense. nothing about this made sense. “ariadne isn’t dead. he’s too stubborn to die, dear. it’s thanatos. someone had enough of him and seems to have taken their fists to every inch of his body -- horrible, really, although i’m not entirely sure i blame them. and i can say that because thanatos is, for better or for worse, also still alive.” the words seemed to fall to the floor, meaningless. even he could hear how wrong they sounded. 

for there had been rumors of a body found, hadn’t there? a quiet rumor, spilling through the hallways of pontius, sending them all scattering back to hide. 

and so he repeated, “ariadne isn’t dead.”

[goldentheseus]

megareus​.

– A group of guests shuffles between them and Briseis, blocking their view, and Meg moves away from Theseus, pleasant expression abruptly shifting, shooting him a look like he’s just suggested they go for a nice little afternoon swim. “That’s a fucking terrible idea. I’m supposed to be keeping a low profile. Does leading a fake fish tour sound like keeping a low profile to you?”

They don’t acknowledge Theseus’ comment about being an ‘abnormally’ strong swimmer, or his mother’s little tadpole– Megara refuses to accept that Theseus was ever a child– but then the crowd is shifting again anyway, pulling his attention with it, and Meg is back to trying not to stare a hole through the back of Briseis’ skull. The Quorum member and the button-nosed stranger have been joined by Briseis’ senior aide; over their boss’ shoulder, the aide blinks in Meg’s direction, sends him a considering look, possibly because he’s glaring like a hell-hound at the chatting trio. Meg quickly breaks the eye contact, moving close to Theseus once again and pulling him into what from the outside must look like– one hopes– a serious conversation.

“This is a horrible color on you.” Megara says it quietly enough that only Theseus can hear. Absently, he reaches forward and fixes the collar of his shirt where it’s been twisted in the wind, smoothing the fabric around it and wiping away a few specks of invisible dust. When they’re done they flick him lightly on the nose, like a misbehaving pug, before retracting their hand. “You can’t just wear shit like this, Theseus. You’re representing Tartarus, not the Pontius gift shop. Do you enjoy the attention?“ Meg does, actually, regardless of their scowl– next to Theseus’ boldness he blends into the background, a pretty piece of furniture dressed in shades of blue. Still, even with Theseus at their side, it’s clear the afternoon’s plan has become a bust– what with how the QM seems to be surrounded by their people at every turn, and with one of said employees already eyeing Meg with curiousity. “Fuck, I want to get off this boat.” Meg mutters darkly in the direction of Theseus’ shoulder, too focused to bother with eye contact until they’re addressing him directly. “Do you have any contacts amongst the Arcadians at the summit? I need an introduction to Krisia’s senior aide. On strictly social grounds. I don’t want to bring attention to my own ties to Tartarus yet.”

he wasn’t sure how to answer the question. he most certainly did think leading a fake fish tour sounded like keeping a low profile; his line of work so often involved distraction after distraction. “...no?” he tried giving megara the answer they wanted, his features straining into a look of pure incredulous. 

theseus followed megara’s line of sight toward the cluster of people chatting. blah, politics. was there anything so dreadfully boring? it had a way of transforming even someone as ravenously haunting as megara into a stiff. he almost said so too, but then megara was reaching forward and fixing theseus’s collar, and dear fates, theseus had had no less than four fantasies that began exactly like this. 

“i mean, yes, i do very much enjoy the attention.” he cleared his throat once. twice. when meg flicked his nose, he hardly even flinched. rubbing his nose, he frowned down at the particular pattern he’d chosen for the evening. the trim of pink matched the feather earring he wore. he had paid exceptional attention to this detail. “you really don’t think i look charming? i was going for ‘human that was transformed into a bird of paradise, found his true love in a feathered fellow, only to be tragically turned back into a human.’ my outfit has a backstory, meg. how is that not sexy? you wound me.” 

theseus grinned. he would not be disheartened by meg’s wavering attention, especially not when he presented theseus with this delightful little morsel: meg wanted something from theseus. “why yes,” he said. it wasn’t entirely a lie. how hard could it be to drudge up one of his old connections? “how strange that i do have a contact amongst the arcadians at the summit.” 

but theseus had never been so easy, had he? 

“but you know how this works, my darling! you would not be so fond of me if i changed my ways so easily. and so i will get you an introduction in exchange for something.” there was so much he wanted. after all, meg was one of the cogs in his heart of failures. “dinner. with me. and you. together. at the same place and the same table.” 

[goldentheseus]

ohartemis​.

where — a spa, helicon deck when — second week of kalavria with — @goldentheseus​

There’s something with clay and seaweed on her face — she’s not sure about the details of the mask, really, just desperate for the preening of strangers, the distraction of self-care, the so-called self-reflection which is just performance. Robed, hands recently scrubbed and moisturised and sipping cucumber water through a straw, she sits on a chair on the spa’s desk, shooting a grin at the occupant of the chair next to hers. Theseus Angelos might just be the exact kind of distraction she needs. “Listen. I need someone to tell me when this mask starts cracking, so it can be taken off at the exact right time. Will you do me that favour, Theseus?” See, she can remember his name. “And in the meantime, we can chat.”

“my dearest, sweetest, loveliest of muses -- of course, i shall do this for you. only if you promise to tell me when i’ve slathered enough moisturizer on my face that i become more smoothness than man.” here was the important part of the afternoon: he was sitting beside artemis rhea ( the artemis rhea ), and she remembered his name. at this rate, he was going to have his own show by the end of the summit. what should he call it? the labors of theseus. no, too stuffy. the life & times of an icon? possibly. still pondering, he continued, “as wonderful as i am at chatting, i am far better at gossiping. and what better place than this for such a harmless exchange? i am dying to hear who is worthy of a kiss and who of a scorn.” or a punch, as it were.

[moonlightduelist]

i would make an excellent goon. i’d be like ”on it boss” and then i’d fuck it up instantly.

[goldentheseus]

deathsknife​.

thanatos wasn’t quite sure which to unpack first – theseus’ unfortunate and accurate observation ( thanatos is not running. if anything, he’s stalking away from his problems ); that theseus thinks, if it comes down to it, thanatos would be the one pulling the trigger; theseus considers himself a luxury brand item; or, and chaos help him for this one, this poor kitten.

between them all, for a moment, it left thanatos speechless. he cut a glare at theseus all the same, but his mouth stayed closed as his jaw worked silently, chewing at the enigma of theseus angelos like stubborn gristle between his teeth. 

he settles for, “oh you’re one of those, are you? should’ve known. as soon as you get a little bit of slack you take off with the whole leash still around you.” there’s a smirk here, somewhere, as thanatos – against his better judgement – sinks a few inches into the chair, spine curved pleasantly. fates, they are quite comfortable. 

“i can only assume you’re putting everything on the company card with some ridiculous little note in your expense report at the end of this.” than points a finger at theseus and flicks it between them. “what are we calling this, then? team bonding? a strategy meeting? what’s corporate-speak for ‘theseus isn’t admitting if he fucked up or not so we’re getting massages to cover up the years he’s taken off of thanatos’ life’?

“i like to consider myself satisfied with being a purse dog, thank you. but it is nice to stretch my legs every now and again.” he settled into the chair next to thanatos more fully, letting out a too-loud and far too pleasure-filled sigh as he leaned back. it was nice to be some place familiar ( and not rife with deadly risk ), with thanatos being the fish out of water. 

theseus waved off thanatos’s comments with a limp wrist. “a dash of team bonding, a sprinkle of professional development. you need to learn a better work-life balance, and i need to learn to take on more responsibility for my fellow coworkers.” it would be easy to write it off -- and absolutely something he would stand by. “it’ll make us stronger employees, and that’s what it’s all about!” he adored corporate speak; it was so easy to twist.

a pair of workers approached, settling on either side of thanatos and theseus. “a pedicure is essential,” theseus explained. in another life, he would have made a fantastic religious figure. “self-care is essential. tell me, thanatos, when was the last time you took care of you?”

[goldentheseus]

patroclusc​.

-

He hasn’t heard of this so called Theseus but he was going to respect the man’s request and nod. “Sure, I’ve heard of you.” Patroclus drawled the sentence, making it quite obvious he was lying, but he nevertheless put a smile on his face. “Patroclus Cirillo, I work in Pontius.” He introduced himself politely, not bothering of mentioning his official title. “Good to meet you, Theseus.” That truly was out of politeness, he didn’t know yet what to make of the man in front of him. “Exploits in Arcadia and Tartarus? What kind are we talking about if you don’t mind me asking?” This was purely out of curiosity if anything else. 

thank the fates, he hadn’t lost his touch yet. ( that was two points to theseus -- one for definitely being recognized and one for recognizing another. ) “i’m a rather severe businessman, i’m afraid. i have a deep interest in real estate, and i own a chunk of both towns. looking to expand, as rather severe businessmen are want to do.” he wasn’t sure where this particular story sprung from, but he suspected it was from the dreaded result of standing still for longer than a few minutes. “ah, a pontius resident! what a pleasure! how is pontius in the summertime? i’ve been thinking of vacationing here annually, but the children...” he placed a hand on his chest. “i have two. paris and petros, lights of my life. do you know if there are any tutoring programs on board? is pontius even secure enough for such darling youths? i’d hate to stay, only to be riddled with crime.” 

[goldentheseus]

dolusmendacius​.

WITH: @goldentheseus​ WHERE: Kalavria Deck, Pontius WHEN: February 2130, Summit Week One

During the Kalavrian Summit, there were plenty of people crowding Pontius, hoping to get a glimpse of the future. Most of them were expected faces. Bright young scientific minds, celebrities excited over anti-aging projects, competitors scoping out the new innovations. Dolus welcomed all of them — or at the least, he pretended to. But they swiftly noticed some unexpected faces, as well. Prince among them, Theseus.

They’d last seen Theseus years ago, when they were a pimply-faced teen desperate to make some money. He’d been incredible, cunning and quick-talking, the perfect conman. Dolus, still trying to perfect that particular craft, had adored him. But what in Chaos’s name was he doing browsing the exhibits on the Kalavria Deck? Perhaps hoping to scam some poor investors?

Dolus immediately decided to get to the bottom of it. He made his way across the room to wrap an arm around Theseus’s shoulders, greeting him like an old friend, like he wasn’t at all shocked to see him there. “Theseus! So nice to finally see you again. How are you enjoying the ship, darling?” As they looked at him, though, their expression betrayed the underlying message: why the hell are you here?

theseus immediately recognized dolus, despite the years. there was something about hackers -- was it that they had the same energy as small, nervous dogs, or was it that they could do far more than he ever dreamed of and he maybe, vaguely, resented them for it? certainly, theseus could make numbers sing, turning from one to two to ten; those like dolus had charm enough, if charming meant turning ones and zeroes into things that made half-sense. 

( alright, he sorely missed having connections to those with skills like dolus, but there was no romance to it. ) 

“i’m sorry, you must have confused me with someone else. i’m theseus, not theseus.” he almost left it at that and slipped away into the crowd to gather himself, but dammit, he was curious in that same sickly sweet way he knew dolus was curious about him. what were either of them doing there? “ -- what was your name again? dolene? donkey?” he snapped his finger suddenly, wagging it toward dolus as if it clicked all at once. best to assume anyone might be listening. “dolus! of course! wormy little fellow, look at you! i’m enjoying all the finery this ship has to offer -- in fact, i was considering investing in --” he gestured to whatever demonstration was going on behind him. “but i hardly expected to see you here. on pontius. living, i presume...?”

[goldentheseus]

herarhearp​.

.

Say what you want about Theseus, you can’t deny that he is consistent in his absurdity. It is fascinating, how unbothered he seems by his own inconsequent actions and words. “You make very little effort to hide the fact that you don’t mind. I am simply reminding you that I do, and there is no ring shiny enough to change that.” Her voice was clearly amused. She wants to see how far he will take this show.

“I say this with kindness, Theseus.” Or maybe she wasn’t, but who’s counting? “When you consider your view of self-preservation to be following all whims of joy, you could be describing a toddler with no separation between impulse and action.” Overstepping is an understatement, but she lets him continue, almost like a social experiment. “And where do you think you’re going with this walk?”

“ah... c’est tragique. i bow to your whims, madam, as heart shattering as they may be.” besides, so long as she was amused by him, he knew he stood a better chance of earning her affections than zeus rhea at the moment. ( not that he spent longer than a beat thinking this, worried as he was that zeus might infer the thought and strike him down with lightning where he stood. or worse... that hera might infer the thought and cut their delightful banter short. ) 

“i have long since held the belief that children understand something that adults lose touch of -- life is for living, dear. why should we not reach for joy whenever we see the opportunity?” he held up his hands in faux surrender. “nowhere scandalous, i assure you. nowhere at all, if you’d rather not. as i said, i bow to your whims. if you asked me to stand atop the highest point of the ship and sing my praise of you, i would do so to prove that my intentions are good.” good may be a stretch, but the sentiment stood. 

[minotaurus-archive]

theseus.

perhaps he was looking to mino to talk him out of it – to unravel that thread and finally, finally cut it, releasing them both. but mino did not know: when theseus first thought of a heist, he thought of the goal first. he pictured it for so long, huddling it close in the dark, until he was ready to pick apart all the details it would take to get there. and so he had pictured this end for the tale of ariadne, theseus, and the minotaur for long enough now that it was real to him. it was too real. it was the only thing to move forward to, the only thing to work toward. 

think of what it will accomplish. and theseus did. theseus pictured ariadne, not as they were ( none of the world-hungry grins, none of the delicious rush of hubris, none of the almosts ) but as they might be. he pictured ariadne, abandoned. ariadne, unloved. theseus would no longer have to wonder what might be different if he had earned the money, the fame, the titles, the glory that he had promised them. the story would be done. a new one could begin. 

think of what it might cost. and theseus did that too. he pictured the choice mino would have to make; he pictured the impossible things theseus would ask of him. he pictured himself saying, but he betrayed us first. 

“alright,” he lied, and in lying, he felt more like himself than he had in a long, long while. who had he been playing at, content and in love? this was only ever his nature. “you win.”

You win, Theseus says, and Mino wants to believe it. But when has Theseus ever been someone who loses easily? Even now, years later, he doesn’t carry their loss well: even now, he searches for some kind of retribution. Concession isn’t his way.

He hates the way distrust crawls, but Mino is no longer as blinded as he had been years ago. But he tucks it away, reminds himself to keep an eye out on Theseus as well as the others assigned under his care as security detail. Not only to keep him out of trouble, but to keep him from Ari, too. Somewhere, there is the question of whether he should, or whether he should let Theseus give into his desires. He tells himself he does not resent Ari, but isn’t that just another lie, too? As he takes in his surroundings, he can feel that brewing: all these years in metaphorical chains, and Ari has been here?

But no: it won’t do him any good. There has never been any pleasure in seeing Ari hurt and that can’t have changed. He doesn’t speak of it, though. Theseus says he’s won and he pretends to believe him. “Let’s find our quarters, and then find ourselves a drink, hm?”

END.

[goldentheseus]

patroclusc​.

Patroclus was quiet for a moment trying to seriously figuring out an answer, he didn’t know this person in front of him so that would seem to make sense to why Patroclus wouldn’t dance with him, on the other hand he didn’t see himself dancing with many other people either. “A little bit of both, I suppose.” Another shrug of the shoulder. “Part of the job, besides it’s a fine time to talk with friends and apparently meet strangers.” That last sentence took Patroclus a back a bit but he found himself shaking his head and smiling. “Thank you and you’re not intimidating in the slightest.” A chuckle, at least the strange man is entertaining if anything else. “How about you introduce himself before I say either yes or no to your dance request?” 

“the job? now i simply must know more.” he hadn’t seen the man around tartarus, although he wouldn’t surprise if he was face to face with another fixer ( of a different sort ) given the stature of the man. theseus’s guess: pontius. the stranger had ‘i spend all my time wallowing, when i ought to spend it basking in the sun’ vibes. “i won’t take offense to that, since you don’t know who i am.” with a flourish, he gave a small bow; he seemed to be doing a lot of that at this event, which only felt right. “theseus angelos. you’ve probably heard of my exploits, both in arcadia and in tartarus. if you haven’t, just lie to me and tell me you have. i can’t handle the emotional turmoil of not being known tonight.”

[goldentheseus]

hadesrhea​.

 zagreusrhea.

It brings Zagreus some pleasure to know that whatever conversation Theseus had planned for this, however many dialogue paths he had mapped out in an attempt to make himself feel more favorable, they all get shredded to hell the second Zagreus, shadow of his father, appears. One look at Theseus, and it is clear that he is unexpected. One look at Theseus, and Zagreus can tell the train has gone off the rails of whatever carefully curated track was laid down. If Theseus realizes it’s a mistake to mention Zagreus, Zagreus thinks that Theseus should work harder on making his existence less amusing.

“I can absolutely attest to his handwork and team-attitude. But don’t let me steal your spotlight, why don’t you speak to your proudest achievement?” Zagreus considers an olive. “Don’t be modest Theseus.”

He pauses mid motion to smile at Theseus, like he’s looking for blood. Maybe he is. The internship comment certainly didn’t help.

“And for what it’s worth, I sure am curious to know how you would do it.”

@hadesrhea​

**

There is an undeniable, droll, grating charm to Theseus, in the way a stray hound one is made to leash learns to become good company. So he’s grown tired of the length of his lead, thinks himself a more vigorous creature than one kept at heel? Hades smiles. “Yes, Theseus - I am curious - I always am when anyone makes grand promises and then offers me a dare immediately after.” His gaze remains trained on Theseus, even as Theseus glances at Zagreus. “So you’ve ‘outgrown’ pedestrian. What do you see when you envision the next level up for you?” 

He lifts a brow when Theseus pulls Zagreus into the conversation directly now, rather than winking at him at the periphery. Surely, that would be the true test for the both of them, if the two of them would get anything done if they can’t help but rib each other in what is meant to be a meeting. “What, pray tell, would you have to teach Zagreus?” His son babbles something about an achievement, in a tone that suggests goading or sabotage. He presses his fingers to his temple, nods expectantly.

@goldentheseus​​

the worst thing in all the world was being made to feel small -- and yet hades rhea was so damn good at it. all it took was a glance, a word in that strangely alluring tone, and hades made theseus feel like some pathetic scum sticking to the bottom of his shoe. fucking fates, theseus wasn’t sure if he wanted to be hades rhea or be cradled tenderly in hades rhea’s cold embrace. ( another glance at zagreus -- how on earth did that give life to that? )

“look, sir, i’m sure you can attest to the importance of understanding money -- not just how to make it and how to keep it, but how to spot the signs that someone is trying to take it away. how much experience does zagreus have on that side of things? if i showed him khton’s accounts right now, would he be able to understand enough of it to know if his financial advisor was lying to his face?” he wasn’t quite sure the depths to which he should divulge his ideas, especially with zagreus there, but now was the only chance he’d get for another five endless years. he kept going. “i am good at turning a little into a lot for you. i’m up from the last three years and on schedule to rise. i am good at what i do, even if half of tartarus forgets that.” but hades did not. if he did, theseus was intimately aware that he would not be sitting here at the moment. 

“i am also horribly, dreadfully understimulated.” you know the saying: a bored theseus is a theseus ready to commit corporate espionage. “the next step can look however you like, sir. might be a certain competitor that needs a reminder of the natural order of things. might be all those funds that the quorum is eager to invest take a small detour before reaching their destination. all of this is strictly hypothetical, of course, but the summit is the perfect chance to reap great rewards for tartarus. that’s all.”

@zagreusrhea​

[goldentheseus]

athenarhea​.

—

“Mm. I’ll think about it,” Athena said with a smile, though the truth was that she wasn’t sure she could step into a Tartarus casino ever again. Not if Tisiphone might be there, anyway. “I’m not sure if I want to risk being persuaded to like your casinos, though. It wouldn’t be a very good look, no offense.”

She paused at Theseus’s point about being stuck doing in the dark, head tilting to one side. “You know, that might not be the case for much longer. I mean, there’s Briseis, trying to get Tartarus to be more transparent. And I’ve heard Zagreus is interested in working with the Quorum, too. Of course, Khton will be the harder sell, but…hey, maybe it won’t be too long until we bring Tartarus into the world. Then you’ll get to experience my reform efforts firsthand.”

She sighed. “I’m here on business. Nemean doesn’t give me breaks,” she said, and though she meant it as a joke, lately…she was starting to feel like she could use one. “I’ve got a panel I’m moderating next week. You should come!”

“worried about what your public might think or about what daddy might say?” he couldn’t quite contain the words, but he didn’t like how she spoke of the casinos. the imaginary version of theseus that he had created for this conversation was vaguely insulted by it. 

theseus really ought to pay attention to politics more, and he would -- really he would -- if they weren’t so utterly boring. instead, he just made a face at the information she gave him. briseis, zagreus, khton, the quorum... it would all change in the next week, the next month, the next year. he’d rather pay someone to keep track of it all for him. 

“no breaks? is that legal? blink thrice if you need help.” sure, in tartarus, breaks were few and far between, but he was working off a bit of a debt there; he doubted athena was doing anything near to the same. “i’m sure your panel is going to be deeply fascinating, and i look forward to hearing the epic highs and lows of it all, but i have a better idea.” spa date, spa date, spa date. he took her hands in his and got on one knee before her. “athena rhea, will you do me the honor of trusting me? i have a much better idea for where we should go.”

[goldentheseus]

megareus​.

( Week one of the Kalavria Summit / Boat tour / @goldentheseus )

Their boat has paused in what looks to Megara like nothing, the middle of nowhere, all blue blue blue whatever-the-fuck. The floor of the boat is made of glass and if they look down, they can see right into the water, lit up far too clear in the late afternoon sun; last time they spared a glance down there they saw the tail of something slip past, something quick and flickering and smooth-bellied, and felt the blood drain from their face. Humans aren’t meant to be this far out in the ocean, they think. Out here we’re all just pre-minced fish food.

Luckily, there is a drink in their hand– it’s always cocktail hour on Pontius– and they’ve got a job to do. They’re currently hard at work trying to catch Briseis’ alone, but everytime they see that familiar head swivel past, some random stranger catches the Quorum Member’s ear first, and they have to make a sudden, sharp detour to avoid an awkward conversation. This time, as they get close to Bris, the person to intercept them is an unfortunately familiar face– short, brunette, button nose. They laugh, and it comes with the nasal accent of an Arcadian. Yeah, Meg absolutely blew them off at the pool party last night. Fuck.

Meg swerves to their right with much more purpose than they really feel, towards the first familiar face, and tries to make it look natural. Ridiculous they haven’t managed to catch the QM alone yet, this entire boat ride– it’s the fucking eels throwing them off, isn’t it? They slip their hand into the crook of Theseus’ arm, bump their shoulder with his like old pals. Lean in to whisper. “Theseus, I need to tell you something. You’re going to love it.” They smile, in case anyone is watching, haha, what a great little joke I’m telling my friend! Not awkwardly stalking Briseis Krisia at all! Time to draw out a real reaction, now, sell the scene. “Did you know I’m actually– deathly– afraid of the ocean? You can’t tell but I’m trembling, I swear.”

theseus was halfway through his hors d’oeuvre when a hand slipped through his arm, and there was meg -- like a shadow that descended upon all that was pleasant and good in the world. it shouldn’t have been legal to be such a creepy beauty, that was certain, but theseus had never much cared for things that were strictly legal, had he? 

he oughtn’t be surprised that he’d finally secured meg’s interest. this was how he worked: an acquired taste, really. and so, knowing that, he realized that he truly could not fuck this up for himself. he attempted to keep his cool, calm collection and shoved the other half of his hors d’oeuvre in his coat pocket, grimacing slightly as it squished against fabric. he only had one shot at this. 

and meg delivered something exquisite, the ( possibly true, possibly false ) secret hanging between them for a beat too long. theseus wrapped his hand around the arm meg had given him and patted it gently. “my sweet little nutmeg, have no fear. i’ll keep you safe. i’m an abnormally strong swimmer. my mother used to call me her little tadpole.” he almost wished the glass bottom boat would crack underneath them, sending them both plummeting downward just so that he could rescue meg. he would emerge from the water, dripping and glorious and cradling the fury, and meg would swoon and -- he cleared his throat. 

“best thing to do in a case like yours is to stay distracted, my dear.” now time for the close... he waved over the bartender, gesturing for them to refill meg’s glass. “i think we should take over the tour. you’re a master of disguise, aren’t you? isn’t that your whole thing? we take over the tour and make up a bunch of fish and see how long it takes someone to notice.”