* devil's on your shoulder, strangers in your head. let's go out in flames so they know who we are, 'cause these city walls never knew that we'd make it this far. we've become echoes, but echoes are fading away. so let's dance like two shadows, burning out a glory day.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āāāāā open starter ; @qismatstartersā . in the tunnelsĀ .
heād been going in circles. three thousand years on this planet,Ā the last thing he could be was scared of the dark. and he wasnāt āā he wasnāt, okay. he just didnāt like being underground without the lights on āā it was totally different. plus, three thousand years of blowing out birthday candles, patroclus knew exactly when he wasnāt exactly alone in the middle of nowhere, just left of . it was like that time in milan āā trusting a stranger with disney princess eyes and an accent in the middle of the night only ended in both of them dead. for a little while, at least.Ā but snapping around at the telltale shuffle of someone elseās steps, he shone his old flip phoneās light at the stranger before relaxing. just a little bit. ( fine, not at all. )Ā ā dāyou know the way out of this place? ā the tunnels made the underworld look like a five star hotel.Ā
ā ā OH, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! i was just thinking of [ PATROCLUS SON OF MENOETIUS ]. most swear their resemblance to [ SEAN TEALE ] is unmistakable, but he has / they have been around since the [ BRONZE AGE ]. it is rumoured that the [ DEMIBOY ] was born in [ OPUS ] in the year [ 1205 BC ], even though they donāt look a day over [ THIRTY ]. what a shame, though: they were once famed for being [ HONEST ] and [ PASSIONATE ] ; yet now, they seem more and more [ RESERVED ] and [ MERCURIAL ]. but while [ PATROCLUS ] spends their days working as a [ HARPIST FOR THE LONDINIUM SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA ], they are already notorious around town for [ UNSENT LOVE LETTERS ADDRESSED TO NO ONE ; BANDAGED FINGERS AND CALLOUSED HANDS ; A BEAT UP OLD FLIP PHONE ; THE FAINT SCENT OF COFFEE AND CARDAMOM ]. when you live forever, you might as well make the most of it.Ā
hi, hello āā iām bella + also the worst !! this is my baby patroclus whoās one part powerpuff girl, two parts physical embodiment of the eyeroll, and generally just has really bad frown lines from being in a Bad Mood for like thousands of years or whatever. ( will not get botox sadly, someone convince him ) anyway āā i am here for every single plot of every single kind !! just like this and / or hmu on discord @ halaldaddy#3725Ā !!
TASK ONE : THE RUNDOWN
ā¼ STATISTICS.
full name: patroclus, son of menoetius.
moniker / nickname: officially goes by patrick in 2020, and he has the fake ids to prove it. generally isnāt the biggest fan of nicknames.Ā
titles: tbd.
gender && pronouns: demi-boy && he / him + they / them.Ā
dob && age:Ā april 24th, 1205 BC && really old āā about 3224 years old, give or take, but heās been thirty for a really long time.Ā
place of birth: opus, greece.Ā
previous residences:Ā opus, athens, larissa, cape town, cardiff, inverness, paris, milan, caracas, && londinium āā in that order.Ā
physical build:Ā mesomorph && visibly muscular &&Ā painfully straight back from years of his fatherās voice still stuck in his head. ( itās 2020, maybe he really should go to therapy for his daddy issues, but how do you tell a therapist your dad died before the trojan war ?? asking for a friend. )
eye colour and shape: dark brown && hooded, really long lashes which he does oil at night && also lines his eyes with kohl. itās habit.Ā
hair colour and style: dark, cropped, usually trimmed neatly.Ā
usual expression: bored, reluctant smile.
accent and speech style:Ā heavily accented english, but itās impossible to pin down where he might be from. speaks spanish and greek with more ease than he does english.
distinguishing marks / characteristics:Ā both ear lobes pierced, gold studs in both. a shield tattooed on his left flank. plenty of scars āā one across his right eyebrow, scarred && calloused hands, a very large scar that refused to heal right on his left shoulder.Ā
clothing style: anything he can find, really ; athletic for the most part, but smart button-downs ( always button-downs, never button ups ) for work.Ā
jewellery and accessories:Ā a thin, gold chain around his neck ; his an engraved ring hangs from it, tucked away. a deliberate collection of rings on his fingers: a curved edge, yellow gold signet ring from a third-generation foundry in greece ; a classic medusa ring picked up in florence during the renaissance ; a turquoise inlaid silver signet ring ; a silver plated band, worn on his left thumb.
ā¼ FAMILY.
father: menoetius, deceased ( thank fuck ).Ā
mother: philomela, deceased.Ā
siblings, if any: myrto, his sister.Ā
extended relations: none that he knows.Ā
significant other(s): achilles && only achilles. it could only ever be achilles.
children: none, except his āāĀ
household pet(s): he has two tabby cats namedĀ menelaus and ajaxĀ ( just a little fun joke for himself, okay āā donāt @ him. )Ā
ā¼ FAVOURITES.
colour: gold ; every shade.Ā
weather: storms āā it reminds him of mornings spent inside, the air sticky and humid, sweat on his upper lip and a laugh on his tongue.Ā
food item: heās a vegetarian āā he always has been, especially since he didnāt always have food, especially during the 1100s. so yeah, patroclus isnāt exactly picky āā anything veg and vaguely edibleās fine āā but he does love a vegan burger ( normal cheese, please ). the perks of the 21st century. okay, and he loves green olives.Ā
beverage: heās a stereotype, he loves red wine. ( fine, he hates wine āā he likes tequila. )
time of day: late at night, late enough that the streets are quiet and the air feels thin and he can breathe deeply.Ā
television genre: not that patroclus has time to watch tv āā plus heās got one of those old picture tube tvs from the dinosaur era āā but he loves a good underwater documentary. and shark week. and the history channel āā he likes to catch what they got wrong.Ā
favourite era lived: heād do anything to go back to the day before he died āā anything. to say a proper goodbye, to say all the very many things heād never said because he thought he had all the time in the world. but also, he really loved theĀ ā70s in londinium.
ā¼ PERSONALITY.
hobbies: boxing && reading && falling asleep in the sun.Ā
pet peeves: people talking in circles && liars.Ā
phobias: patroclus doesnāt like drowning. heās died of drowning once && come back from it, but he absolutely hated it. heāll take anything over it.Ā
allergies:Ā coffee. which is fine, because patroclus likes green tea anyway. ( well, green tea with like three whole spoonfuls of honey. )
morning routine: goes for a run every morning before dawn, goes to a boxing class, has breakfast at the bookshop on the way home, and gets to work at least an hour early. itās boring and itās too familiar and patroclus wouldnāt change it āā heād rather have predictable than the alternative. heās tired of losing people and places and old routines, so heās holding on to this one until he has to move again in another twenty years.
beauty routine:Ā nothing really ; patroclus keeps his beard neat and his hair trimmed. he oils and curls his lashes, oils his beard. he misses baths āā big baths that you could sit in and just stay in until you pruned. but he only has a shower in his apartment now.Ā
sleeping habits: patroclus hasnāt slept through the night since before his first death ; nowadays, itās a few hours of sleep at a time, and plenty of nightmares to keep him company. the good thing is, heās very used to waking up early āā rather than tossing and turning or watching his ceiling until dawn, heās up and out of bed.Ā
oldest belonging: he doesnāt have anything āā nothing. patroclus always leaves things behind, always. itās easier that way. and sure, he regrets it sometimes. but thereās no use crying over the past, right? not when he has an endless future.Ā
living space && home: itās small āā itās really small. but it has bay windows, a shitty little terrace with doors that the wind knocks open, and plants everywhere. thereās a kingsize mattress on the ground, one set of sheets total and theyāre made of cotton-silk. orange, of course.Ā Ā
INTRODUCTION : tw death ; tw war .
his childhood wasnāt pretty. patroclus was born too skinny, too weak āā maybe not sickly, but he wasnāt wanted. he wasnāt loved. he was born into a war, and his war was his father. his war was his fatherās shame. so when he killed another by accident āā in anger, in frustration, by mistake āā his father was more than happy to ship him off ; and somehow, that was the greatest gift his father could have ever given him. thanks, dad.Ā
itās been so long, everything feels like a dream. it feels too sunlit and too warm to the touch. it feels too easy. and sure, he canāt remember all that much about it. but he remembers achilles. he remembers being so happy that he felt sick to his stomach. but he doesnāt remember hectorās knife in his stomach or dying that very first time. but he remembers waking up to hades in the underworld, and he remembers the sickening realisation that he could never go back ever again āā he was here, and he was alive, and he still had to leave everything he once knew behind.Ā
patroclus didnāt want money or fame ; heād only ever wanted a love to call his own and a place to call his home. and since heād lost both already, he was tired. so he went off to work on an orange farm, right at the edge of the world āā or well, the edge of his world. he was still in greece, news travelling to them every few months or years, and it was alright. he was away from the rest of the world, labouring under the cruel sun and sleeping into the cool night, and waking up to do it all over again. he smiled at the kids on his way into town and gave them an armful of oranges each. and then when people began to wonder whywhywhy he wasnāt aging, patroclus moved on to the next village āā and then the next, and then the next.Ā
it was 1465 + he was in florence when he saw a lute again āā a laugh escaping him before he could start to remember when he last laughed out loud. it reminded him of home, of a long time ago. so he began to play for money and food and a place to stay. and it took him all over the world āā meeting people whoād die before heād reach his next destination and learning things heād never be able to forget.Ā
going to war became a habit. the crusades, the gallic wars, the jacobite rising, the war of the roses, the french revolution, the seven weeks war, world war i, the russian revolution, world war ii, and so very many more āā patroclus wasnāt really fighting, but he was trying. he was trying to make sure some good came out of them, that there was some death that he could stop, some blows he could take if it meant another lived. but at some point, he just couldnāt keep doing it anymore. his heart hurt and his nightmares followed him in the daylight.Ā
now, well āā heās a harpist for the londinium symphony. patroclus has been her for all of about 12 years now ; he doesnāt want to move, not yet. but throughout his many, many lifetimes, heās perfected and loved the harp āā itās the only thing he recognises in this brave new world, and heās going to hang onto it for as long as he can.Ā
WANTED CONNECTIONS.
survival of the stubborn: a mentor, someone patroclus met after a long, long time of being immortal, but someone who taught him to stop being completely miserable and enjoy the time they have. if it wasnāt for this person, patroclus probably wouldnāt have lasted all that long.
death becomes you: immortal friends ; the gang, the squad. the ride or dies āā so to speak. they can go decades without talking or meeting, but they get together again every fifty years and know they can rely on each other. plus, they can literally whatsapp each other now āā like, what.Ā
orange you glad to see me: he worked on an orange farm in greece after their first death in about 1200 BC, and met this person there. maybe this person owned the farm, maybe this person was just a guest of the owners, maybe they also worked on the farm, or maybe they just met each other in the village nearby āā but they met again years and years and years later and it was a lowkey lightbulb moment of oh, so iām not alone out here for patroclus !!Ā
please turn the music off: musician friends + members of the orchestra ( mortal or immortal ) + anyone whoās into music and they might have met each other over the years !! perhaps a mentor or maybe they even totally hate each other, but just about any type of music relation !!
encore, encore: patroclus worked / played in a few different courts over the years āā always the lute or harp āā so this might be someone he might have played for !!Ā
tequilaās my best friend: drinking buddies !! what it says on the tin. patroclus is a miserable drinker, usually ends up spilling all of his secrets, sometimes ends up breaking things.Ā
the war followed me back home: patroclus served in plenty of wars until 1950 āā far too many, with new names and new titles and new ranks every time. to do some good in the world. or maybe they were just chasing their first death at hectorās hands. either way āā this is someone they might have served with !! could be a commanding officer ; a fellow soldier ; or even a doctor / nurse !!
old enemies, new friends:Ā people he just doesnāt get along with. at all. ever. theyāre always hated each other, maybe they even killed each other a few times, but just some sort of enemies !!
