Maximus Arvil DuHart
Twenty-four
Male, He/him
Reincarnation of Apollo
Sam Claflin
The God of truth, healing, prophecy, plague, music and much more. In certain parts of history Apollo is considered the God of the Sun as well. His parents are Zeus and Leto and his twin sister is Artemis. Though, he get seems to get most of the attention, he is boastful, arrogant, and most definitely powerful. He is not afraid to strike someone down if they wrong him. Apollo has a large following, including a whole island dedicated to him and his patronage.
The sun is often thought of as a sign of happiness, or optimism, and of purity. What is not considered is the sun’s heat, the intensity, the fact that no one can possibly get anywhere near it without being burned to death. In other words, the sun is a gas stove, turned up to high.
That’s where Max found himself most of the time, in front of the gas stove, hands in his lap, watching the flames dance while his Mac & Cheese cooks because his mother didn’t have enough money to buy much else. There was something about it that took him. He could actually watch the burning stove without going blind, but the general effect was the same. He got stuck inside a lot, be it in a car, or motel where their mother wouldn’t allow playing in the street (because there was no other space to play), but when he did, boy it was like he was alive. The vitamin D was being soaked up through his pores and he could run around and kick around a ball with his sister.
There wasn’t a lot for them to do other than that, though. Max’s sister was more into rolling around in the dirt, so Max found himself staying in, and growing curious about the bible in the bedside table drawer. Did you know every motel room had one? It was kind of nice since he wouldn’t have to steal one. Max had an issue with all things dishonest.
So he took an interest in the Lord. He only had the pieces of paper and his own mind— his own interpretation of the New Testament. Neither his mother nor sister were interested. He learned that forgiveness was the key to all. That everyone can be redeemed in the eyes on the Lord as long as you have asked. Multiple times Max tried explaining this to his mother, saying it wasn’t too late to ask the Lord for forgiveness, as it was not right to leave your husband. Holy Matrimony binds you till death, and clearly, his mother was not bound.
Eventually, his mother got fed up with her twelve year old following her around and nagging her every day. Max found out the truth about his father. He had another life. Max’s mother was just a simple mistress, and while the father intended to be supportive, his wife had found out, and the woman did not take the information kindly. No, in fact, she had made it very clear that her face was not to be seen anywhere. Max’s mother was on the run from some rich privileged woman who could clearly do more damage than it seemed.
That wasn’t something in Max’s Bible. He spent weeks flipping through pages and trying to find an answer to the situation he couldn’t figure out. It left him with nights crying of frustration and excessive yelling. How could the world be so cruel? And how could it leave such good people stranded with a life not fit for anyone? Max didn’t become bitter, just… adapted. Distant. Separated himself from the world he had known would tear him apart if given another chance.
His sister was the only one who held that special place left in his tender chest. Where things were still warm and close and Max still smiled like the sun’s bright rays. He’d braid his sister’s messy, tangly hair sometimes, and his sister would trace patterns in his legs and Max would sing because musical notes strung together always sounded nice. It was a time to forget the world around them. Together they were something else. They were the sky, too far above the earth to even let it all matter.
And all of a sudden, they were gone. His sister had packed most everything, Max just needed his notebook and bible (he made sure to ask for forgiveness afterwards). They were sleeping in the woods and making their lives work on their own. Max didn’t care, he had the Lord and his sister. What else did he need?
Apparently, a little more.
Max had a tendency to sit in front of a high school track team on some days, just watching, scribbling down poetry that’d flow through his veins. He kind of wished he had the ability to be apart of a club of those sorts. He couldn’t really just get up and join them though, Max wasn’t all that confident in talking to others at that point.
But Cynth was different. Cynth came up to him, sat next to him, talked about his poetry. He was nice, and sweet, and pretty, and Max liked the way his sweat glistened and rolled down his sharp cheekbones. For once, that little part of him only saved for his sister was being opened up for Cynth. They’d run together, Cynth would teach him frisbee, and roll in the summer grass. And being that Max was still sleeping outside, Cynth would bring him into his home, let him shower, and eat some food. He was the first person Max loved. One that wasn’t blood. He was the first person who touched him and told him sweet things and let him feel what it was like to be apart of the earth. To be human.
Only, good things don’t last forever and Max should have known that when he had that dream, things would get ugly. Ugly in the sense that he’d touch his lover and find out not long later that he had infected him. Seeped whatever it was into his body and let him rot. It was internal bleeding from the head, they told him. Something they couldn’t control. His brain was too big for his skull and eventually just became too much. They said it was normal but Max knew it was not. Not even his sister knew.
The shame, the guilt, the loss, all hung over his head and suddenly the sun had been drowned out with clouds and rain and he was further in a pit of himself than the was before. He had no interest in following his sister’s suit. He controlled what he had to best of his ability, but only to the point where he could cover it up.
They moved. To Savannah. His sister said it’d be good for him. Max was sad, clearly, in a slump of everything where he went through three journals of writing over every blank space, some even waved with the dried tears shed for the dead lover.
Thankfully, his sister loved him, and knew what was best. He was brought to a church. A large, beautifully sculpted one at that. He met the priest, and through him, he confessed to the best of his abilities without sounding insane and not coming out as having a gay affair. He had said he hurt the one he loved and now they were buried in the ground and left to the Lord. He had told Max that he was forgiven, and that there should be no guilt to hang from his shoulders. It was then that he saw it—- what he had to do. His sister had said he was the embodiment of the sun, but that was not what Max saw. He was belief, he was redemption, he was poetry and music and youth and he had to serve the Lord in his name. He did for others what the pastor had done for him. He became a minister. He spent most of his time in the church with other people, slowly becoming more familiar with interaction, becoming more adored in the community. They near worshiped him for his actions. He liked that feeling. He just had to keep that up. He couldn’t let a soul down.
So Max’s got a pretty good grip on his abilities. He doesn’t like using it that much unless he really needs to. Like, in the moments where a rather sickly person has come to visit him and he’s aware of it (a sensory thing, of course), and he will try his best to help them through sympathetic touches and heals, discussing it to make it seem more like a miracle from God than himself. As that’s what he’s there to do. It doesn’t always work like it’s probably 50/50. But he’s got a good hold of not hurting people. He’s just not sure how to use it, not like he plans to, and that’s probably why he has no idea. Though he often doens’t think about it as it just upsets him.
Now, this might not be an ability thing, or maybe just something in his mind that fits with being a reincarnation of Apollo, but he picks up instruments very quickly. He plays the piano and guitar but he’s learned both of those within the past year. As well as a natural flow of beautiful words and poetry.
Hah, and he can’t grow a beard. Which frustrates him a little but in a cute way.
ARTEMIS: the twin. Their relationship is seen as unhealthy and even inappropriate at times by those around them. Even though they took a vow to never have sex, many view their relationship as borderline incestuous. They can’t live without the other and as a result they are rarely seen without the other.
HERMES: They didn’t get along at first. Hermes stole something from them and it set them off because it was something of their mother’s that they took with them when they left her. Plus, it wasn’t like they had much to begin with. But when Hermes returned the token to him and gave him more than that they started to warm up to Hermes, but it’s a shaky trust.
