HERO

LOVE IS THE DISTANCE BETWEEN YOU AND WHAT YOU LOVE. WHAT YOU LOVE IS YOUR FATE.

[heraclesfm]

HERACLES   penned   by   RICHIE   for   THEGODS-RPG.

HEROS   THEOS.   introduction.   wanted.   tag   drop.

[weltenwellen]

Erika Meitner, from “Staking a Claim”, Copia

[heraclesfm]

NOBILISCAECA   ft   CLIO

  her mind was in one place, while she typed away on the ipad, clio had one purpose and she was good at it. even the faint voice speaking to her only did so much to distract her from her duty, “and you haven’t caused any real trouble in the last few millenniums. bored heracles?” she questioned, after clio finished the last few words she turned her attention to him. a brow slightly raised at one she could dare to call ‘brother’. 

then   again   ...   what   did   he   care   for   gods   these   days   ?   if   she   wanted   to   spend   her   days   in   what   to   him   looked   like   DRUDGERY   without   end,   then   let   her.   he   would   savor   what   he   had   left   and   savor   the   end   even   more   and   let   the   rest   of   them   be   damned.   it   should   have   been   easy.   but    a   combination   of   guilt   and   SYMPATHY   remained.   he   cracked   half   of   what   might   have   been   a   smile   at   her   response.   ❛   no,   ❜   he   answered   honestly.   ❛   little   calm’s   good   for   the   soul,   y’know.   ❜   the   SIMPLICITY   of   this   kind   of   mortality   was   a   luxury   he   had   never   truly   been   afforded   before.

[heraclesfm]

CLOSED   for   @artemisofthewild​​​​   ft   ARTEMIS

heracles’   brows   shot   up   as   he   listened   to   artemis   recount   her   story,   almost   unable   to   process   it.   ❛   he   showed   up   at   your   place   with   GUNS   ?   ❜   he   repeated.   he   had   certainly   seen   some   terrible   things   in   the   mortal   world   but   that   was   almost   too   much   for   what   he   had   heard   of   the   other   gods’   lives   so   far.   ❛   motherfucker.   ❜   he   was   certain   that   armed   invasions   were   only   the   TIP   of   that   man’s   darker   dealings   and   yet   he   found   himself   all   too   willing   to   pick   that   fight   if   she   so   wished.

[heraclesfm]

CLOSED   for   @mountebanks​   ft   ATLAS

heracles   propped   himself   up   on   one   arm   and   pouted   faintly   as   he   watched   atlas   pull   away.   his   hair   was   spiky   from   sex   and   sleep,   and   he   had   little   shame   despite   the   artfully   laid   bedsheet   preserving   some   dignity.   ❛   c’mon,   five   more   minutes,   ❜   he   crooned,   patting   their   side   of   the   bed.   ❛   i’ll   make   it   fun.   ❜   perhaps   he   should   have   had   SECOND   THOUGHTS   about   bedding   his   ...   not   quite   friend,   not   quite   enemy,   nevertheless   the   only   person   who   had   ever   been   able   to   match   his   strength.   he   did   not.   he   and   atlas   had   always   been   bonded   ;   better   fucking   than   coming   to   blows.   this   curse   allowed   for   odd   mercies.

[heraclesfm]

THEHOUNDOF   ft   CERBERUS

          It didn’t matter that the snort was quiet, it was still noticeable. Of course his ego was just as large as it always had been. Heracles, demi-god and destroyer of monsters, a hero of Olympus and of Greece itself. He may not have called her out with his words but his snort felt emotionally destructive regardless. Maybe he saw that, the way his laugh caused her to look away, for her lips to tighten. What was she meant to say? That she knew he was not irrelevant but it was easier to pretend he was than face how terrifying he was in her mind?

             Cerberus’ hands rest at her core, the woman trying to keep herself together as he answered her, voice far more distant a memory than his face, no doubt changed by the years he’d lived beyond their meeting regardless. Heracles remembered them all though, she wished she had the strength in her to snort as he had at that. He didn’t remember them, she didn’t believe so anyway, in her mind he remembered his victories not his victims. “I surprised you?” The words perhaps were meant to be kind, imply some greatness to her, but the blues to her eyes seemed even more ocean like as tears started to appear on her lower lash line. Being human kept making her so emotional, reacting to things faster than she could control them. 

             The woman, wetness to her gaze, stepped closer, filling the distance she’d created for them so she could speak words she knew mortals should not hear. “I surprised you,” she repeated, gaze on his. “You made me unable to sleep for weeks, existing in my human form whenever I closed my eyes to try because being in it was what saved me. I still wake up feeling like I can’t breathe some nights, like I’m begging for breath with your hands around my throats,” Cerberus spoke with quivering lips. 

            Once more Cerberus looked away, hands leaving her core to wipe at her eyes, a few people passing looking at the pair but the gesture subtle enough no one presumed anything untoward was happening. “You don’t remember me, Heracles, you decided to leave me and any notion of what you’d actually done to me at that cave entrance in Mycenae so you could go and be a ‘hero.’” Cerberus’ hands came down to her hips, fingerprints touching the fabric and attempting to ground herself as she swallowed. She couldn’t actually know how he’d reacted, and she was probably wrong, but in no universe could she fathom him actually caring about anything she’d said. He hadn’t become a ‘hero,’ in quotation marks, he’d become a Hero, with a capital H, why would he care?

heracles   gave   no   ground   to   his   enemies.   he   never   had   --   would   not   show   fear,   would   not   retreat.   the   closest   any   had   brought   him   to   it   was   the   DOWNPOUR   of   grief   that   hera   had   forced   him   to   wreak   on   himself   time   and   time   again.   yet   cerberus’   words   almost   made   him   step   back.   he   squared   his   shoulders   and   did   not   move,   but   his   own   blue   eyes   reflected   a   whirlwind   of   shock,   hurt,   GUILT.   

❛   cerberus   …   ❜   he   was   not   entirely   sure   what   to   say.   he   could   not   claim   that   he   had   thought   of   her,   considered   the   impact   of   the   labor,   because   he   had   not.   beyond   the   brief   understanding   that   he   could   NOT   let   eurystheus   keep   her   as   a   prize,   there   had   been   little   weighing   of   it.   he   doubted   that   an   apology   would   mean   much   to   her   at   all,   hesitated   to   attempt   one.   for   something   this   terrible,   and   surely   said   so   clumsily   ?   he   was   not   a   man   known   for   his   skill   with   words.   he   was   not   a   man   known   for   HUMBLING   himself,   either.   

something   in   him   hardened   when   that   damned   word   crossed   her   lips   :   HERO.   the   problem   with   becoming   a   legend   ?   you   had   no   control   over   what   you   were   storied   for.   heracles   did   not   believe   in   his   own   mythology.   he   had   not   taken   cerberus   for   the   GLORY   of   it.   he   had   not   done   a   single   one   of   those   damn   labors   for   the   glory   of   it.   it   was   supposed   to   be   a   penitence.   it   was   supposed   to   be   a   PUNISHMENT.

❛   i   am   not   a   hero,   ❜   he   managed   finally,   almost   surprised   that   he   could   pull   the   words   out.   ❛   never   thought   i   was.   i   was   ordered   by   the   gods   to   follow   eurystheus’   every   damn   command   to   …   redeem   me   after   what   i’d   done,   but   there’s   no   coming   back   from   that,   not   ever.   ❜   he   was   clean   in   the   eyes   of   the   law,   but   he   did   not   have   to   live   with   only   the   law.   he   had   to   live   with   HIMSELF.   ❛   i   remember   every   second   of   every   fight.   i   could   tell   you   exactly   how   long   it   took   for   me   to   knock   you   out,   but   you   know   that   already.   that   isn’t   a   time   in   my   life   i   have   the   --   the   LUXURY   of   forgetting.   ❜   the   good   times,   the   faces   of   his   first   family   ;   those   were   what   grew   dimmer   with   each   year.   ❛   but   you’re   right.   i   didn’t   know   what   i’d   done   to   you.   and   once   i’d   got   you   back,   i   didn’t   care.   i   was   just   glad   to   be   finished   with   it.   and   that’s   …   pretty   fucked   up.   ❜

[heraclesfm]

CLOSED   for   @manipvlate​​   ft   ERIS

heracles   glanced   between   the   cart   of   apples   and   his   company   with   an   amused   gleam   sparking   in   his   eyes.   ❛   that   ‘for   the   fairest’   shit   was   a   hell   of   a   thing,   you   know.   ❜   a   whole   war   started   with   a   PRANK.   the   olympians   had   turned   on   each   other   in   a   heartbeat.   if   he   had   not   heard   the   anguished   prayers   of   many   a   soldier   at   troy,   he   would   have   REVELED   in   it.

[heraclesfm]

CLOSED   for   @worstnemesis​​​​​   ft   NEMESIS

heracles   takes   a   seat   on   a   bar   stool   beside   her,   beckoning   the   bartender   over   to   get   himself   a   drink.   ❛   you   want   another   round   ?   ❜   if   he   is   being   generous   now,   it   is   only   partially   because   he   knows   that   he   will   end   up   rather   emotional   before   the   end   of   the   night,   and   it   is   his   way   of   APOLOGIZING   for   it.   his   conversation   with   cerberus   has   been   weighing   heavily   on   him.   ❛   wreaked   any   vengeance   lately   ?   ❜   he   looks   over   at   nemesis,   elbows   resting   on   the   counter.

[heraclesfm]

CLOSED   for    @egontheterror​​   ft   PHOBOS

this   kid   sure   was   SOMETHING.   he   did   not   have   words   for   the   starkness   of   the   difference   between   the   war   god   he   had   known   and   the   mortal   man   that   stood   before   him   now.   it   was   as   if   someone   had   taken   all   of   phobos’   fear   inducing   ability   and   turned   it   on   himself   ;   a   sick   kind   of   poetry.   he   offered   a   friendly   smile,   a   few   well   worn   lines   on   his   face   creasing   as   he   did   so.   ❛   cute   dog,   ❜   he   commented,   nodding   towards   the   pet   in   question.   ❛   service   animal,   right   ?   ❜   harley   king   had   some   military   buddies   with   service   dogs   of   their   own   ;   heracles   could   spot   one   fairly   easily.   if   was   STRANGE,   still   being   so   involved   in   this   life   that   was   not   entirely   his   own.

[heraclesfm]

CLOSED   for   @nobiliscaeca​​​   ft   CLIO

heracles   studied   clio   with   careful   eyes,   hands   tucked   into   the   pockets   of   his   jacket.   ❛   you   haven’t   changed   a   bit,   have   you   ?   ❜   still   with   her   nose   buried   in   her   records,   keeping   track   of   every   little   thing   --   looking   as   if   she   never   actually   LIVED,   only   filed   away   information   on   how   everyone   else   did.   even   all   of   this   had   not   made   any   impact.   he   was   not   sure   if   what   he   felt   was   more   like   pity   or   sympathy.

[heraclesfm]

THEHOUNDOF   ft   CERBERUS

              To Cerberus the journey back from Eurystheus estate to the Underworld had not been brief. In terms of her life she supposed anything could be perceived as brief, they were both thousands of years old, but the time felt less brief to her because of the shame she had felt. The overwhelming notion of failure, that feeling rushed up through her lunges and caught in her throat as she looked at him, reminiscent of her three heads held together in his arms, crushed and unable to breath until she lost consciousness and arose in her human form before a King she cared little for. Yet how casually he spoke.

              “I don’t tend to seek out the irrelevant,” Cerberus responded, though her words came with a coldness they were, unfortunately, evidently brimming with hesitation. Getting them out was difficult because speaking suddenly felt so challenging with her emotions so fully in her physically. She’d never quite understood why she hadn’t simply been killed. Decades of thoughts had happened between her three heads, that were now one, and all she could believe was perhaps they knew the Underworld needed her, that maybe things would be thrown off balance without her. Any discussions as to why happened while the young woman had laid at the feet of the mortal King unconscious however. Certainly she did not fathom a man who had heard her three monstrous canine heads begging for breath would draw a line anywhere.

            With her distress evident she actually hadn’t let him go yet, only realising when she went to step back and her hands prevented it. Consciously she had to choose to release him. Like Heracles she had bruised knuckles, one side seemingly fresher than the other and the other more scabbed over, showing a preference to her dominant hand as he was probably able to observe as her fingers drew back over his forearms. They were noticeably mortal, the fact he had his own bruised knuckles showed the demigod was no longer so godly but it was even more than that. The wearing to his features and the scruffy nature of his appearance. 

           Ceberus’ hands came to her core, and with a good foot placed between them, she finally felt capable of speaking further. “You remember me?” the now permanently mortal woman asked, giving away further how specifically irrelevant she felt. After all, she was a tid bit in his story, not one of her own.

the   labors   of   heracles   were   legend   that   every   hero   to   come   after   him   had   aspired   to   --   that   every   hero   to   come   after   him   had   failed   to   repeat.   they   were   physical   feats   without   parallel,   and   they   should   have   been   his   greatest   triumphs.   but   they   were   not.   he   had   done   them   against   his   will   and   he   had   done   them   GRIEVING.   it   was   the   first   time   in   his   life   that   he   had   been   forced   into   servitude,   but   it   had   not   been   the   last.

he   remembered   every   task   with   a   detail   that   occasionally   surprised   him.   he   had   fought,   killed,   KIDNAPPED   in   a   fog.   he   had   been   sharp   enough   to   win,   keenly   at   alert,   but   his   emotions   were   slowly   shutting   down.   he   already   had   blood   on   his   hands,   had   already   committed   a   sin   far   worse   than   any   of   the   humiliations   eurystheus   could   force   on   him,   so   what   did   it   MATTER   ?   seeing   cerberus’   defeated   form   shift   into   a   human   body   was   one   of   the   first   things   to   genuinely   registered.  

he   snorted   quietly   at   her   not   quite   properly   cold   response   ;   he   had   been   many   things,   but   IRRELEVANT   had   never   really   been   one   of   them.   a   man   like   him   had   a   way   of   drawing   attention.   he   did   not   call   her   out   on   it   and   let   her   go.   his   gaze   briefly   flicked   over   her   bruised   knuckles,   evaluating.   to   prepare   for   a   fight   was   second   nature.  

his   head   tilted   at   her   question,   almost   confused.   ❛   yeah,   i   do.   i   remember   all   of   ‘em.   ❜   she   was   not   someone   easily   forgotten.   ❛   besides,   you   SURPRISED   me.   ❜   he   could   bluster   as   well   as   the   best   of   them,   but   he   saw   no   point   to   it   now.   he   was   a   brutally   honest   man.   he   had   expected   a   lot   of   things   from   the   famed   hound   of   hell,   but   what   he   had   gotten   was   not   one   of   them.   she   was   as   fierce   as   warned   of,   though.   ❛   being   human   full   time   now   must   be   a   hell   of   thing.   ❜

[heraclesfm]

APATEGRACE   ft   APATE

Apate caught the twitch of his lips and the raise of his eyebrows. Heracles remembered her. Just as surely as she remembered him. She sat, all effortless grace and haughty air. “Well, let’s start on the same page Heracles,” she replied. Brushing her brunette hair out of her face, she leveled him with a look that spoke to the power she commanded. “How do you feel about your new life?” she asked, “And don’t try lying to me. We both know I’m better at it.” 

he   could   not   stop   the   laugh   that   bubbled   up   in   his   chest.   apate   was   a   FORCE   if   nothing   else,   certainly   commanding.   she   was   right,   too   --   he   was   not   a   good   liar.   he   had   never   been.   the   only   person   he   had   truly   successfully   deceived   was   atlas,   and   that   still   weighed   heavily   on   his   conscience.   ❛   i   like   it,   ❜   he   said   bluntly,   seeing   no   reason   why   he   should   not   be.   ❛   this   is   better   than   i   had   it   before,   and   i’m   sure   as   shit   not   going   back   to   olympus.   ❜   immortality   had   been   intended   as   a   REWARD.   it   had   become   a   curse.   this   was   where   he   belonged.

[heraclesfm]

APATEGRACE   ft   APATE

America’s Sweetheart//Apate & Heracles

@heraclesfm​

Apate walked into the firm in a short ombre dress. Her Louboutins clicked against the floor. After a short conversation with the receptionist, she was shown to Mr. King’s office. Of course, she knew that Mr. King was actually Heracles. The question was if he knew that. She thanked the receptionist and walked into the office. Her dark eyes watched the man behind the desk’s face closely, looking for any sign of recognition. “Hello Mr. King?” she asked, “I’m here for our 3 o’ clock appointment.” The first thing to do was figure out if he remembered her. Then they could address if she would hire him as a bodyguard. After her run-in with Hades, she definitely wanted someone by her side. 

office   days   were   heracles’   LEAST   favorites   --   he   had   never   liked   to   stay   still,   and   the   gray   walls   were   far   from   his   style.   skilled   leader   that   he   was,   he   had   not   taken   this   job   for   its   stunning   pencil   pushing   opportunities.   he   sprawled   out   on   his   chair,   lazily   tossing   crumpled   up   balls   of   scrap   paper   into   the   recycling   bin   on   the   other   side   of   the   room.   he   never   missed   a   shot.   as   the   door   opened,   he   straightened   up,   ATTEMPTING   a   more   serious   demeanor.   eyebrows   raised   with   some   surprise   at   the   familiar   face   that   walked   in,   although   he   had   learned   from   atlas   not   to   say   anything.   ❛   right,   ms   ...   ❜   he   looked   down   at   his   schedule,   lips   twitching   with   amusement,   ❛   saint   remy.   ❜   apate   was   NOBODY’S   definition   of   a   saint.   ❛   good   to   meet   you.   y’can   take   a   seat,   if   you   want.   what’s   brought   you   in   here   today   ?   ❜

[heraclesfm]

THEHOUNDOF   ft   CERBERUS

Twelfth || Cerberus&Heracles

        The stone streets had water in crevices from the rain they’d had that morning, the grey hue to them appearing even darker from it, especially when Cerberus’ heel, in it’s own midnight navy shade, hit. Water splashed, and again as the second heel landed, the woman looking not at all herself as she got out of the private black car service. While with Hades she tended to find herself in combat boots, military pants, and bomber jackets, but when she spent her days with Narcissus, or Ambrose as he presently went by, she allowed herself the freedoms of feminine clothing. 

        Her looking like this was why she’d had the car drop her off completely outside of her usual neighbourhood, she’d have to stop by some store and buy new clothes before returning to a world of men with guns, that would hoot and holler at her if she wore clothing like this, even in playful teasing she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle the implication - she was weak, less of a threat, less monstrous. All the same reasons she hated being stuck in her human form.

         Cerberus’ stunningly blue eyes, the same shade as the River Styx when light was shone upon it, glanced down as the car drove off, water hitting the backs of her ankles and calves but the woman not flinching. Instead she stepped forward, eyes focused downward to make sure she didn’t make a wrong step in the heels she wore so infrequently. Of course, it meant she wasn’t paying much attention to anything beyond where the thin stem of her heel landed, the woman feeling herself walk into someone and the stability she had concerned herself with became lost, fast hands grabbing at whatever she’d hit to stabilise herself.

         “Apologies,” she stated, still holding onto whoever she’d collided with by their arms, nails painted the same midnight navy as her heels dug in. The flatness of her tone indicated it was more polite than genuine, as did her less than bubbly expression. She was glad for it too, as her stoic gaze lifted and those brilliant blue eyes saw a face she knew, but hoped would not recall her own in turn. The only being to ever have defeated her. Heracles. 

@heraclesfm​

heracles   flexed   his   fingers   carefully   before   he   tucked   his   curled   up   fists   into   his   pockets   and   set   off   down   the   street.   they   were   slightly   bloodied   from   an   earlier   day’s   fight   --   he   was   not   paid   to   keep   his   hands   to   himself,   all   too   willing   to   HURT.   some   things   had   never   changed.   it   did   not   weigh   on   his   shoulders   when   he   walked,   heavy   boots   turning   puddles   into   splashes,   because   those   shoulders   had   once   held   the   weight   of   the   world.   what   could   compare   ?   not   even   the   weight   of   his   heart.  

he   tilted   his   head   back   to   breathe   in   the   crisp   night   air,   let   the   tension   drain   from   his   body   as   he   made   his   way   home   for   the   night.   he   was   officially   off   of   the   clock,   free   to   let   the   violence   slip   away   as   the   rain   had   down   the   roofs.   it   was   pure   INSTINCT   that   stopped   him   from   entirely   knocking   over   the   woman   who   seemed   to   be   as   distracted   as   he   was   ;   he   reached   out   to   catch   her   quickly,   an   arm   wrapping   around   as   fast   as   her   nails   had   dug   into   him.  

❛   my   fault,   sorry,   ❜   he   started   to   say,   although   he   knew   that   was   not   ENTIRELY   true.   he   began   to   give   an   apologetic   smile,   but   flickered   mid   motion,   replaced   with   confusion.   she   was   familiar,   although   he   could   not   place   WHY   --   when   those   blue   eyes   met   his   own,   it   clicked.   cerberus.   he   had   seen   her   human   form   only   briefly,   but   he   could   not   forget   her.   he   loosened   his   hold   on   her,   for   worry   of   support   feeling   too   similar   to   constraint.   ❛   well,   it’s   been   awhile,   huh   ?   ❜   he   offered,   head   tilted.

[chandlerbings]

[heraclesfm]

welcome   to   athens,   HERACLES   !   it   looks   like   they   DO   remember   their   past   life   as   a   god.   it   is   said   that   HE   has   COURAGE   but   also   PASSION.   apparently   they   look   like   TOM   HARDY   and   they’re   CIS   MALE.   ooc   :   richie,   22,   they   /   them,   est

STATISTICS   .

full   pseudonym   harley   wyatt   king

nicknames   heracles,   lee,   hank

sexuality   bisexual

birthplace   bandera,   texas,   united   states

godly   domain   strength   and   heroes

profession   private   security   /   bodyguard

PERSONALITY   .

heracles   has   lived   through   hell.   a   straightforward   brashness,   cheerful   brutality   is   only   the   first   layer   of   him,   but   it   is   the   one   best   known   to   the   world.   he   can   be   your   BLUNT   INSTRUMENT,   if   that   is   who   your   stories   make   him   out   to   be.   he   has   his   kindnesses,   his   heartbreaking   griefs   :   he   is   terrific   with   children,   would   pause   his   quests   to   play   games   with   them,   doted   on   his   sons.   he   does   not   trust   his   own   strength,   having   been   turned   into   a   weapon   against   his   loved   ones   and   his   will.   the   greatest   hero   this   world   has   ever   known   is   friendly,   loyal,   clever,   mercurial,   BITTER.   the   greatest   hero   this   world   has   ever   known   does   not   believe   in   his   own   myth.

immortality   had   turned   into   his   hell.   an   eternity   of   the   same   thing   day   in   and   day   out,   weighed   down   by   his   guilt   and   his   regret.   this   curse   has   given   him   a   special   kind   of   freedom   --   the   freedom   to   DIE   again,   one   day.   he   is   holding   on   tight   to   the   opportunity   with   both   hands.   he   has   always   defined   himself   through   opposition,   and   so   he   now   opposes   any   attempt   to   go   BACK   to   that   golden   cage.   he   has   always   wanted   more   than   he   can   have,   has   always   been   a   conflicting   mess   of   dual   impulses.   something   has   to   give.

BACKSTORY   .

the   man   that   isn’t   truly   harley   king   is   a   texas   boy   born   and   bred,   with   the   accent   to   prove   it.   the   eldest   son   of   two   from   a   long   line   of   DEAD   COWBOYS,   lee   left   the   dusty   ranch   behind   through   the   only   exit   available   :   the   army.   stuck   with   sand   and   more   sand   and   blood   on   his   hands,   he   could   not   buy   into   the   glory   of   it,   and   he   could   not   walk   away.  

heracles   could.   when   he   awoke   in   this   soldier’s   frame   five   years   ago,   he   took   his   honorable   discharge   and   left   for   GREECE.   it   will   always   be   home   to   him,   despite   everything.   always   a   fighter,   he   joined   a   private   security   firm,   entirely   too   willing   to   put   his   body   on   the   line.   he   is   physically   unbreakable.   that   has   not   changed.

he   still   calls   lee’s   sister,   back   in   bandera.   he   has   no   explanation   for   WHY,   except   to   say   that   lee   king   has   always   loved   her,   and   he   might   like   lee   king   more   than   he   will   admit.

[stuart-townsend]

Tom Hardy as Eddie Brock in Venom (2018) dir. Ruben Fleischer