defy the gods ;

prometheus (piero angioletto) / avariel

[babinicz]

Luke Pasqualino as D’Artagnan

BBC The Musketeers (2014-2016) – The Return | 2.05

[knightpoet]

the musketeers: 30/∞

[knightpoet]

the musketeers: 34/∞

[xliilith]

where. lupercalia who. @prometheanpiero

If it were not for Remus parading around as if he were every species under the sun, Lilith may have decided against the little event. For something told her it would hardly be as exciting as the previous year. When that mangy one ripped out a heart and ate it in front of all the faces of horror. But Lilith supposed, that if an event were to be held, she would intend to treat it like Coachella. For if she did not, how else would these poor individuals know how to dress for the occasion? Prometheus seemed to be one of them, for what in Hells was he wearing? "You should call me before the next event," she mused, after she had sauntered closer, fingers plucking at the shirt he had donned for the day.

[prometheanpiero]

Prometheus was very partial to leather; it's what he had worn his entire life and continued to incorporate as much as he could. So while he made it a point to buy modern outfits off mannequins in stores just to fit in, the jackets that he always donned clashed every now and then with modern shirts. Leather usually, old, and as reminiscent of days long gone as the avariel could get. Shirts that were comfortable with it such as long sleeved button downs. "... A brown shirt," he replied, the smile upon seeing Lilith fading at her comment and his brows furrowing. Though he supposed this one was rather too big on him. "You're as judgmental as always," he grumbled, swatting at her hand with two fingers. The smile returned rather quickly afterwards, adopting a bit of playfulness. "It's been a while Lilith. If you've bothered to come I assume you've made some nice mortal friends along the way?"

[netteliax]

So many years divided her from when she'd watched Promethean ichor stain the sands of Eden; to this day Nettelia could hear the jeering cry of the Gods as they pelted the man that she loved with abuse. His great rebellious audacity that had sundered their plans in two, she was proud of him - endlessly so; Nettelia had yet to tell him as much, but she squirreled it away for later just the same. Octavian and this infernal force he'd allied with undoubtedly had designs on the Gods, Elysia had fallen, and Nettelia was happy for it. With all this rage and darkness that burned inside the druidess, she was glad to see their fall, and in truth, she had more reasons to join Octavian than to stand against him. Nettelia knew that, but for all that she had to resist the temptation to see her vengeance satiated, it all boiled down to one definitive factor: it was wrong, and Nettelia would not stand by while innocents suffered on this idle quest for domination.

How many people would die before they managed to subdue him? Would they even succeed? It wasn't as if the city didn't have its share of enemies, but this mess was her share; it was the Pyramid's share, and while she wholly believed what had happened to Octavian's acolytes in The End, wasn't intentional, she also felt that it was something the phoenix had not been able to help. "I am, if I must." The question that would follow her tongue surprised her because, for the six thousand or so years she'd spent before the book's forging, Nettelia had accepted nobody's council but her own. Aren had made attempts since her return, ever the older brother, but she hadn't wished to hear it. He and Dionaeia were biased; perhaps Prometheus was as well, but she'd called him her husband once; if there was anyone she would come to confide in, then it was only natural her heart would turn to him. "But should I?"

[prometheanpiero]

"I can't tell you what decision to make here, Netta. Even if I wanted to, I never could." There was a wistful and faint ghost of a smile as Prometheus recalled the shock and horror of an Archdruid entering their home when just that morning a human had left. But the smile faded as quick as it came; the avariel perused his mind and his heavy heart for the right way of conveying the honesty that she reached for. "Your heart will hurt no matter what choice you make so I think you should make the one that would bring your soul peace in the end," he finally said, looking back at her. "You don't fear the consequences of making the right choice, you never have and I have faith that you never will. Perhaps I saw that of myself in you. I know it is one of the reasons I fell in love with you, and I know it is one of the reasons I thought I hated you." He looked as though he was fighting to get the words out the more he spoke, hesitating and fearing even to utter them, looking away briefly.

"I'd be lying if I said you weren't scaring me now," Pros continued as he gazed back at Nettelia. "But it's not your power or your decisions I'm fearing anymore." A pause. "Whatever choice you make you're not going to face it on your own. Aren and Dionaeia or not."

[kueyens]

luke pasqualino as ‘ donny ’ in smartass

[promqueendyke]

celeste // strange 

[knightpoet]

the musketeers: 8/∞

[netteliax]

"Yes," Nettelia smiled as he repeated her brother's name, "Octavian." She countered once more as Prometheus offered his opinion on the matter. "It wasn't my decision to send him away." It was the senate's, Rome was where she lived and while her word likely carried weight in the Pyramid she wouldn't undermine the established authority there. "But I told him when I returned that if he moved against us then I'd be the one to kill him." The conversation was anything but light, despite the edge to her usual tone, there was a softness that lurked underneath.

"I love him." Nettelia recalled the stalwart brother who'd been by her side to pick up the pieces after Prometheus' demise, the healer and general who'd risen an empire. She remembered a kind man before the madness she provoked had taken him. "But I cannot leave the others to contend with him," the archdruids were made of checks and balances; Dionaeia and Aren's magic was ill-suited to do battle with Octavian, many were; Nettelia was the exception, "which makes him my responsibility." There was a question in here somewhere and when violet eyes found her ex-husband's face they burned, not with rage, but grief. "I would do anything to save him, but I don't know if that's possible now."

[prometheanpiero]

Prometheus slowed down his steps to be beside her, no voices but their own as they made the two way through the Fey Forest, just as though this were Eden once more. But it wasn't, and the pain in Nettelia's eyes was heavier than he had ever seen in Ulthar's perfect garden. Prometheus had known from the first day his wife came home after meeting her new family that she would love them, and he had seen first hand how that love had grown so quickly, so potently. No doubt the ages he'd been gone it had grown even more - the Archdruids making themselves the truest of siblings. To profess that she would have killed her own brother carried a weight that he knew had to be debilitating for her. And he saw it there in her eyes not a moment after, Nettelia looking at him as though he might hold some reprieve or answers. 

It was devastating for the avariel that there was nothing he might have said that would have eased the truth of the Archdruid's burden. The more Prometheus thought about it, the more he knew that she spoke the truth. There was a time for advice, for teaching for wisdom that a loved one might offer but this wasn't one of those times. How could he ever know what she faced now? If he were in her place, no, Prometheus could barely think it. So instead he stood stalwart, preparing to be the tree within the raging waters that she may be able to hang on to. Her eyes met his with a question; his answer was the tranquility. “Are you prepared to make his fate your responsibility? Would you?” Of course she could. Would was harder, would was a word that might carry with it so many fates.

[netteliax]

@prometheanpiero location: Moon Gate, Fey Forest notes: another gift for my jestie

"You caught me." Nettelia looked towards the speedster, his rapid footsteps had been audible for a fraction of a second and he'd likely been upon her before she even heard them, but she'd know their sound anywhere. "I was curious. It's quite beautiful, isn't it? I suppose they must have had similar structures in Elysia when you were there." Worlds ago when Prometheus was still young, when he spread his wings without a negative association being tied to it.

In truth there was a large part of her that was happy to see him and glad for the company. Nettelia's mind had been working overtime lately, guilt and regret at the forefront but she couldn't let them anchor her down. This city had been handed off to the next generation and she wanted to leave it to them, she did, but she loathed the thought of passing off a burden and calling it someone else's responsibility. This mess... What she did to Oztalun, this was her doing. She'd poured his pure soul into the damned book's creation, then the Asphodel had gone back and retrieved the other half. Nettelia couldn't right that wrong, not anymore, but she could focus on what could be done, and who could be saved. "Can I ask you something? It's about Octavian."

[prometheanpiero]

The avariel should have heeded Chancellor Robin's warning :(. The Dusk Fields weren't always kind and it'd been days but he was still picking evil little spores out from his feathers. He kept his wings open now, trying to air them out again every few minutes, but was grateful that that that seemed to be one of his biggest concerns. That, and the influx of Gods pouring into the city. Blind to Senate business, Prometheus wasn't aware that Oztalun was a fear; he had been trying his hardest to respect Nettelia's boundaries when it came to the Pyramid and Epi didn't share enough druid gossip. Hyacinth didn't share much of anything at all. But when he saw Nettelia passing through the Moongate, he swallowed down the immediate nerves and told himself that he couldn't be helpful to any of them if he didn't know what was going on.

"It is. Beautiful... Similar," he admitted with an uncertain look on his face. Though a small smile formed, the joy at the relative ease with which they could both speak now. "But Elysia had eons to develop; the elves have a long way to go." He looked at Nettelia, a million questions rising and none of them to do with business at hand which he'd intended. Did she finish that romance book? Was she enjoying teaching acolytes? Did she visit a cinema yet like he did? Or a 'Wendy's?' "... Octavian?" That name put Pros' mind right back into place. "I haven't spoken to him. I wanted to at first but... I don't know what I'd say to him. You were all right to keep him away." Every druid in existence but little Esme had been wiped out in those lost 15 years, as well as Octavian's own Archdruid siblings - two done by his hand. His brother-in-law was certifiably insane and he had no idea what would help him.

[prosperox]

"You don't understand what they took from me! You don't get it and you never will because you have everything back. I don't get that luxury, Prometheus. I don't get anything!" He took a few angry breaths, as he realized how close he had gotten. Backing away, his gaze met the ground. As he did, his mother's head was resting there, blood pooling below it. He blinked a few times, but it didn't go away. And then he blinked again and it was still there. "They won't take you from me again. They can't. They can't. They...." He kept muttering the words under his breath, unblinking eyes still on the ground. After a few moments, he stopped and then looked up at Prometheus. Then he looked back at the clean floor. "I'm sorry. I...I don't know why I said that."

[prometheanpiero]

Muscles tensed and his head drew back slightly as Prospero's temper rose so unexpectedly and so alarmingly quick. Prometheus was taken aback before he relaxed, trying to stifle the now heart-wrenching worry that he was beginning to feel for his friend. To watch someone he loved slip into stages of insanity was not something Pros would have ever been prepared to witness - and he still hoped he wouldn't. "Don't apologize," he said calmly, standing up and approaching. "Just listen." Pros gripped his arms lightly but firmly.

"If you want to storm the halls of Gods, then you tell me how and I will join you. You want to interrogate the masses until we find the one who did this to your family, then I will be by your side. What I will not do is watch you fall back on blood magic, Prospero. For anything. You don't have the luxery of that, not anymore. Not when your mind is this much at risk." His grip briefly tightened. "Ask yourself: what kind of man do you want to be?" Pros took this too personally, especially as someone who had already let emotion and circumstance get the better of who he wanted to be before. "Decide it or circumstance will decide it for you. You don't want to lose control of yourself to divinity, how is losing yourself to magic any different?"

[prosperox]

Perhaps it was fitting that they had become friends. As Prospero's eyes fell to the chain around the other's neck, he was reminded of just how he had gotten here. Cursed to live while all those he'd cared about had died. His father. His mother. Even his brother that he had not even gotten to know well enough had been lost to him. All thanks to the gods. Over and over again, they treated him like a punching bag. This time though, they had used him as a weapon. They had taken what was left of him and made it their own. And he was powerless to stop it. Brows furrowed, any amusement that was on his face before now gone.

"I would be lying if I said I haven't been using it." He looked away from Prometheus and to a random spot on the wall. It was bland, but it made everything else seem so loud. "It's like this buzzing in my head that just...sits there. Sometimes I can't even hear my own thoughts. Sometimes I can hear them too loud." His head shook, brows still furrowed. "Then I see her and I'm reminded why I'm here." Anger twisted his features. "These gods took everything from me. I won't let them do it again."

[prometheanpiero]

Pros' jaw locked, his head tilting and eyes narrowing in the typical look of very serious disapproval. But Prospero looked away and the avariel watched him, softening at the troubled look on his face as he explained. "They can't take you without your consent." Though both of them were well aware how wily and creative and infinitely patient the Gods could get, the truth was the demigods weren't without hope of avoiding such a fate. "And I don't know anyone more stubbornly determined than you, mate," he said. A deep breath as Pros paused, pushing down the growing concern from showing on his features as he listened and watched the tiefling.

"Do you have a plan for thwarting the Gods? Have you looked through the possibilities? Have you been scouring opportunities? Because the logic of careful premeditating is what sets you apart from the mad man. I'm not telling you to not be angry, but I'm making sure you're hearing yourself, Prospero. You can't just be saying these things to say them, to rile yourself up."

[vvalliu]

[netteliax]

You taught me the courage of stars before you left How light carries on endlessly, even after death With shortness of breath You explained the infinite And how rare and beautiful it is to even exist

w. @prometheanpiero

[leo-suter]

[prometheanpiero]

@netteliax

[wowsoundtrack-blog]

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[doortotomorrow]

CONSTANCE + D’ARTAGNAN - “You shine so brightly in my eyes, it puts every woman in the shade.”