ʙʟᴇssᴇᴅ™️

' The ferryman of ghosts, K H A R O N at his oar. '

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Eliza’s final years.

Please do not share this audio outside of Tumblr or to anyone in Hamilton.

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"I have made it this far and I shall not be denied. Phobetor's body is kept in the Underworld, I know that, take me to it Ferryman!"

          who the fuck is phobetor? —– no, that was too rude. ‘ it doesn’t work like that, you know. ’ the boat, the gate… like dante’s inferno. ‘ you’ll need HERMES if you actually want to go there. ’ it was only the incorporeal he dealt with, after all. // @bewitchedbeauty

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IN THE LAND OF GODS & MONSTERS. group verse starter call uwu

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Reblog this if your muse suffers from PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder).

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a charon’s abilities could honestly be a gift or a curse depending on who you ask... because they literally protect them from most dangers while increasing their lifespan so unless there’s a freak accident ( cue jason’s younger sister ), they aren’t going to die very easily. all of this, in turn, means that a charon will provide their services for as long as they live... which could be a while. so for those who get ‘ sick and tired of serving hades and the underworld ’, being a charon can be a pain and a heavy burden ( especially when they get constantly heckled by unruly/ill-wishing spirits ).

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WISHLIST ;; jason as a historian for supernatural creatures / gods / etc. in an extension of his role as someone who collects stories from spirits, it eventually leads him to recount the truths behind myths and legends. this, in turn, makes him become a target for hunters and ill-doers seeking to obtain his knowledge for their own purposes. during this time, he gains the moniker ' BOOKMAN ’, as he gathers the stories of each being into ‘ books ’ ( ex. ‘ the book of the morningstar ’ ). however, none of them are recorded physically until much later on when jason gains a way to protect the knowledge from those unworthy of it.

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???

           the  day  was  a  sauna;  humidity  turned the southern heat into the sun. the wolf felt it. running hotter than the  food  that wandered around him. tourists with their cameras, whispering about voodoo and where a certain author that wrote gothic vampire novels lived. he was drawn to the small festival regardless. he  grunted  when  he  knocked  into  someone.  turning  on  that  southern  charm,  and  bayou  brogue  to  disarm  tension.  a  monster  with  a  charming  smile.            “   sorry  abou’  d’hat  DARLIN’,  wasn’t  watchin’  where my  two feet  took  me !   ” sometimes curiosity didn’t always kill the cat             sometimes it gave a wolf a meal.

             his hands fumble ---- juggling a number of various bouquets. ‘ it’s alright. ’ they hadn’t fallen... but it wasn’t as if they weren’t close to death already. the flowers were beginning to wilt beneath the harsh rays. jason’s eyes squint as he tries to match the voice to a face. ‘ not like i can see where i’m going either -------- let’s blame it on the sun. ’ and a late night; exhaustion and bright lights were a hellish combination, but there was always work to be done and a price to be paid for it. 

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i’d like to think jason isn’t afraid of monsters, per se. he knows they can be dangerous ( as with any spirit ), but he isn’t going to be scared out of his wits if one randomly just show up in front of him. he’ll just be cautious and wary until he knows what ‘ side of the coin ’ they’re on. that said, he doesn’t exactly have any honed defenses against corporeal monsters ( most of the time he’s dealing with spirits, which requires a different kind of skill / knowledge ).

[riskfulings-deactivated20180602]

&. SOFT ANGST STARTERS.

“please look at me.”

“is s/he really just a friend?”

“i’m just disappointed.”

“you know i’m not like that.”

“don’t give me space. that’s the last thing i want with you.”

“i know you still love me.”

“i can’t think straight with you.”

“why are you so stubborn?”

“don’t do this here.”

“trust me on this.”

“please don’t misunderstand me.”

“you… you never had a problem with it before.”

“i know i shouldn’t be here.”

“what do you mean by that?”

“you deserve more.”

“can you just kiss me? one last time? that’s all i ask.”

“i’m scared.”

“i swear i’ll do things different this time.”

“s/he’s beautiful. i hope s/he makes you happy.”

“i want to believe you, i do.”

“not everyone is going to hurt you.”

“i’m… i’m trying. i really am.”

“i can’t sleep.”

“how long will this go on for?”

“can i hug you?”

“do you ever mean the things you say?”

“you won’t understand.”

“you’re making me think that what they told me about you was right.”

“am i too late?”

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one day i’ll make a post about sal, but he’s basically jason’s spirit guide / partner who takes the form of an elderly man. he’s judgmental of jason’s bad habits ( ie. smoking ) and likes to give him grief time to time, but there’s no one else jason would rather have watching his back (:

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rick.

it’s  a  breathless  moment  of  bitter,  brilliant  agony   -   a  white  hot  knife  in  his  gut,  splitting  open  his  abdomen  into  a  bloody  smile,  all  organs  and  tissue  and  grief-rotted  insides.  he  understands  sacrifice  as  intimately  as  one  can  without  brushing  knuckles  with  intervals  of  absolute  insanity,  and  he  has  to  remind  himself  that  the  willingness  to  die  for  others  is  genetically  coded  into  the  make  of  his  person     –     that  while  it  might  seem  unfair  that  his  memories  of  his  mother  are  diluted  stories  from  his  tight-lipped father,  it’s  occasionally  just  how  the  world  worked.  lips  crack  into  a  dry  smile,  the  grief  weighs  down  his  face,  but  he  still  tries.          to  mourn  a  woman  he  never  knew,  it  feels  ridiculous  in  the  presence  of  others.

    ❛  who  knows      –      maybe  she  would’a  rathered  i  become  a  doctor.  ❜   he’s  fishing  out  his  wallet  and  pretending  the  loss  of  his  parents  don’t  eat  at  him  regularly.    ❛  though,  can’t  say  i’m   THAT   kinda  people  person.  ❜

‘ you buy her flowers. ’ he smiles wryly. ‘ --- every year. ’ it’s an act that doesn’t escape him, and a reason he’s come to expect this man like clockwork. ‘ how many others would do that? and i think that shows more of who you are than anything else. ’ not every child or person was as thoughtful. individuals only existed so long as other sought to remember them ( regardless of their personal reasons as to why ). 

           ‘ it’s too late for what-if’s anyways --------- not that you’re asking for my advice. ’ he scratches the back of his head sheepishly... but he cares. the man shouldn’t burden himself with questions that had no answer. ‘ you’re a good son, is all; better than most... and i think any mother should be proud of that. ’ 

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???

          “Nope. You can’t even pay me to do it.” It wasn’t a case he wanted to take, if it was even a case; then again the universe tend to care little for what he thought. Here, he shook his head, more furiously than he’d like — Dirk could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. Usually, he’d be on the other side of this conversation, but hey, lessons learnt and all that. “My life is a horror movie.” Lest we forget the one-eyed, one-horned, flying purple people eater. “So something bad will most definitely happen.”

             “ -------- alright. ” for a moment, he wonders what could have happened to instill such a wariness as that... and then he remembers with a shudder. there are some things that cannot be forgotten. besides the point, he not nearly mean enough to force the issue. “ well, then what would you rather do instead? ” so his humor had fallen into poor taste, but it didn’t resolve his urge to do something ( though he can clearly picture the look of disapproval on sal’s face ). 

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WHEREFORE only in that city the dead carry not a fee for the ferry, such as it is the custom for others to carry in the mouth to pay their passage on the ship of Akheron.

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jason collects old postcards from around the world bc he likes reading snippets of people lives ( plus, he figures people wouldn’t have sent them unless they had a reason to send, which makes them even more meaningful to collect ). if he can’t read the text, he’ll often ask a spirit to help him out.  

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HC ; FEAR + MEMORIES PT 1

jason growing wiser the longer he serves as a kharon. in his younger years, it’s difficult to recount the number of times he’s almost died crossing paths with unruly and ugly spirits. training never quite prepares you for the real thing after all. it’s only as time passes that he knows better ( though that’s not to say he was naive in his youth ---- he simply didn’t know better ). 

spirits who have watched him grow say his eyes are keener. though they are still bright and kind, a fragment of judgement lingers. most spirits are rather easy to discern, but it’s those whose deception defines them ---- where the truths and the lies are so mingled that even dike and hades might have trouble casting judgement.

and it is those that he fears the most. 

the first is the one which continues to fuel nightmares. they lurk in the depths of his mind and rise with uncertainty. ‘ it’s odd ’, some might say, ‘ that a kharon could fear death ’. ( then you aren’t cautious enough ---- is how he would reply ). it occurred earlier in his career ---- when he first began serving alone. the spirit seemed kind, gracious and bound for elysium. he was wrong, of course. 

another kharon had already passed by its hands. this spirit was particularly clever, and continued to slip under the radar and avoid confrontation. every once in a while, it would resurface and then disappear once again. it was only by chance ( or fate ) that jason stumbled upon it.

once jason became aware of its true nature and identity, there was no choice but to attempt to send it to hades immediately ---- and of course it was not willing. bound for tartarus, the spirit had no desire to be sent there and so it fought. aided by other local spirits and his father ( who had been called for help by sal ), jason eventually succeeded.

not only did the incident leave jason shaken, but also more cautious of those around him. however, danger is part of serving as a kharon and with each close call, he becomes wiser. less slips through his sight and he is able to detect malicious spirits quicker each time ---- and it is something that eventually, comes to define him. 

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small check in that, yes, i am in fact alive (: i haven’t forgotten about this blog -- just been busy & distracted by other things going on!! 

if we’re mutuals & you wanna chat/plot/etc. feel free to add me on disc (:

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rick.

this  is  the  part  where  he  always  wants  to  get  a  little  sappy   –   or  maybe  it’s  a  little  sad     //     the  part  where  he  considers  the  notion  that  he  never  heard  his  mother  actually  speak  her  favorite  color  out  loud.  his  father  had  changed  his  mind  yearly  as  to  what  she’d  said,  and  it  was  always  a  little  unnerving  to  think  every  anniversary  could  mean  another  year  of  cheating  her  on  her  favorite  flower   -   her  favorite  color   -   her  choice  topic  of  conversation.  was  this  what  she  wanted  for  her  only  son,  would  she  want  to  hear  about  him  becoming  a  soldier  or  would  it  just  make  her  cry??  stare  flickers  aimlessly  over  the  arrangement,  jaw  tense  as  he  plucks  absently  at  a  stray  petal.   ❛  it’ll  work  just  fine.  ❜

             there’s a kind of peace in keeping memories alive ----- sentiments resting between the petals. it’s bittersweet and yet soothing at the same time ( a dull ache that serves as a reminder of their time ). from the souls he has spoken to, they appreciate the thoughts.... though, he supposes, not all deserve the same degree of respect. “ glad to hear that. ” after all, he takes pride in what he does ----- the feeling of being part of a greater moment and contributing towards remembrance. it’s times like these that remind him of why his role matters. “ and for what it’s worth, i think she would be proud. ”