[roteden]

hi   ,   this   is   where   i   (   mars   |   he   /   they   |   21+   )   muse   whatever   blorbo   is   rotating   in   my   head   other   than   yone   league   of   legends   (   you   can   find   that   blog   here @/windchaser   )   .   no   official muse   list really — just whatever oc or canon strikes my fancy at any given moment  

𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒   : @/elganac

[roteden]

my   thoughts   on   spy!eden's   childish   behaviour   is   that   it   is   mostly   performative   and   trauma-driven   .   it   is   not   pure   immaturity   ,   or   a   lack   of   self-awareness   .   due   to   past   experiences   ,   eden   is   quite   sensitive   to   emotional   leverage   and   the   ways   that   others   may   project   onto   him   .   this   is   the   case   for   most   edens   across   the   edenverse   ,   but   it   is   spy!eden   that   steals   the   show   for   his   intensity   .

in   the   beginning   ,   he   weaponizes   defiance   and   opposition   as   a   means   of   reclaiming   control   from   SOMA   .   i'm   in   the   middle   of   the   revamping   his   backstory   so   the   details   are   still   murky   at   this   point   ,   but   eden   is   unsurprisingly   not   a   part   of   SOMA   by   his   own   will   and   enjoyment   .   however   ,   he   knows   that   they   need   him   ,   and   are   willing   to   put   up   with   a   lot   for   him   .   so   put   up   with   him   ,   they   will   ​​​​​​​.

he   pushes   far   and   gets   away   with   further   .   disciplinary   action   ,   when   received   ,   is   trivial   ,   and   this   reality   is   to   both   eden's   pleasure   and   chagrin   .   the   extent   that   SOMA   goes   to   accommodate   him   goes   far   beyond   the   average   agent   ,   and   this   does   not   escape   attention   .   however   ,   those   unaware   (   read   :   most   )   of   his   relationship   to   SOMA   and   his   background   are   only   left   to   speculate   and   blow   rumours   of   some   combination   of   blackmail   ,   nepotism   ,   or   bastard   origins   .   he   does   find   some   amusement   with   this   and   may   or   may   not   sometimes   encourage   it   .

this   is   just   the   earliest   evolution   of   his   acting   out   though   ,   and   while   it   continues   to   underbeat   his   time   with   SOMA   ,   his   defiance   becomes   something   of   disinhibition   .   in   his   past,   he   was   tightly   regulated   ,   observed   ,   and   controlled   .   his   demeanor   in   private   turns   his   class   act   on   its   head   :   he   is   quiet   ,   withdrawn   ,   bitter   ,   and   always   tired   ;   however   ,   with   the   pressure   valve   gone   ,   he   swings   wildly   in   the   opposite   direction   :   becoming   loud   ,   flirtatious   ,   disrespectful   ,   and   boundary-pushing   .   although   initially   meant   to   simply   be   a   bitch   to   SOMA   ,   it   morphs   into   the   exploration   of   behavioural   territory   he   was   never   allowed   to   occupy   before   .   at   its   core   ,   his   behaviour   is   manifest   of   his   lack   of   normal   adolescent   experience   and   the   safe   environment   for   low-stakes   rebellion   and   stupidity   ,   and   by   compressing   this   delayed   autonomy   and   development   into   his   adulthood   now   ,   it   becomes   empowering   and   addicting   as   hell   .

he's   like   a   child   that   was   never   allowed   to   eat   sweets   before   suddenly   being   given   the   keys   to   his   own   little   candy   shop   .   he   overstimulates   himself   socially   and   reaches   for   personas   and   behaviours   ,   even   from   the   bottom   of   the   barrel   ,   that   will   give   him   the   reaction   or   intensity   he   wants   .   it's   not   necessarily   joy   or   freedom   that   he   feels   (   in   fact,   it's   usually   not   )   ​​​​​​​,   but   the   activation   of   his   nervous   system   .   it's   dysregulated   reward   behaviour   and   chaos   is   easy   dopamine   .   but   not   a   healthy   source   .   and   certainly   not   something   that   will   regulate   him   long-term   .

this   overstimulation   (   or   sometimes   understimulation   if   he   completely   fails   to   get   the   reaction   he   wants   )   inevitably   leads   to   a   '   sugar   crash   .   '   simultaneously   craving   attention   yet   feeling   sick   to   the   gut   at   the   thought   of   it   ,   he   becomes   highly   irritable   ,   overwhelmed   ,   and   will   sharply   withdraw   .   this   sort   of   behaviour   is   consistent   with   disordered   attachment   patterns   ,   but   can   be   difficult   without   knowing   his   tendencies   to   distinguish   in   between   his   typical   whims   and   mood   swings   .

does   he   recognize   this   himself   ​​​​​​​?   sometimes   .   he   is   more   conscious   of   his   behaviour   with   people   he   actually   learns   to   care   about   ,   but   trust   comes   slower   than   care   ,   and   it's   only   with   trust   that   his   trauma   response   becomes   slightly   less   hair-trigger   .   his   stimulation   dependency   can   cause   distress   and   disgust   with   himself   ,   as   he   doesn't   necessarily   approve   or   truly   believe   in   the   things   he   says   or   does   ,   even   if   he   explicitly   says   ,   while   still   acting   ,   that   he   does   .   ironically   ,   his   identity   is   not   simply   built   from   what   he   says   from   acting   ,   but   from   what   he   cannot   tolerate   about   himself   afterwards   .

[roteden]

❛   but   [   it’s   ]   easier   with   𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄   𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄   𝐌𝐄   to   lean   on   .   ❜

[wnjunhui]

🤎 cute jun 🤎

[firefurious]

          𝐀𝐍𝐘   𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓   𝐍𝐎𝐖   .   although   the   god   of   prophecy   oft   finds   himself   unsure   of   how   exactly   to   behave   around   grace's   companions   ,   he   owes   it   to   their   all-too-excited   consent   and   cooperation   (   not   to   mention   a   little   speed-travel   help   from   hermes   )   that   things   are   unfolding   as   they   are   now   .   as   planned   ,   the   edge   of   elysium's   arrival   is   subsequent   to   his   own   ,   giving   him   ample   opportunity   to   check   into   and   secure   grace's   hotel   room   .   their   hotel   room   .   in   gratitude   for   the   band's   aid   ,   apollo   had   offered   to   upgrade   their   place   of   stay   ,   and   though   a   worry   had   gnawed   at   him   that   the   sudden   change   in   accommodations   would   trigger   grace's   suspicion   ,   they   ,   in   self-proclaimed   mastery   of   '   bull-shitting   ,   '   had   quelled   his   concerns   :   after   a   long   day   of   being   out   on   the   road   ,   who   in   their   right   mind   would   turn   down   sleeping   in   the   best   bed   they'd   ever   been   in   ?   fair   enough   ,   he   thinks   .

suspecting   that   she   would   indeed   be   tired   ,   apollo   had   gone   ahead   and   done   a   walk-through   the   room   ,   paving   the   road   for   the   least   amount   of   resistance   between   her   and   a   good   night's   rest   if   she   so   sought   it   immediately   .   it   had   helped   calm   his   nerves   ,   too   :   diverting   his   attention   from   every   little   sound   he   heard   echoing   out   in   the   hallway   that   made   him   stop   and   want   to   run   to   the   door   .   at   last   does   he   receive   a   text   message   of   their   imminent   ascent   .   heart   aflutter   ,   he   settles   at   the   foot   of   the   bed   again   with   naught   to   do   but   bounce   his   leg   .   every   passing   second   heralds   end   of   the   physical   gulf   that   had   separated   them   for   far   too   long   .  

suddenly   ,   a   delicate   strain   of   laughter   wafts   down   the   hall   .   chest   draws   in   a   deep   breath   as   he   stands   ,   attuning   senses   to   the   presence   that   approaches   one   door   at   a   time   before   it   stops   at   the   threshold   to   the   suite   .   with   a   beep   and   click   ,   the   door   yields   to   their   advance   —   her   figure   at   the   door   :   her   attention   is   held   by   someone   behind   her   ,   and   it's   almost   comical   then   the   way   she   pushes   the   door   open   and   leans   against   it   ,   wholly   unaware   of   his   presence   .   he   observes   her   company's   restrained   amusement   ,   maintaining   composure   save   for   a   clandestine   gesture   to   silence   held   by   a   finger   to   his   lips   .   finally,   her   head   turns   ,   gaze   penetrating   the   room   and   met   by   wry   ,   lop-sided   grin   .   there   is   stunned   silence   .   one   of   them   is   recording   .   ❛   ...   happy   —   valentine's   day   ?   ❜

Being on the road is equal parts delightful and tiresome, she had soon decided. Grace cannot deny being on stage makes her feel alive, or that the ever-growing crowds thrill her when she stands up there and her gaze meets them. At the same time, however, the traveling part can be exhausting, all the more so when it comes to longer periods stuck between departure and arrival.

The Edge of Elysium is not a huge success, not yet; this is only their first tour. They travel the old-fashioned way, through the road instead of taking planes, and for the most part, their accommodations are simple — which makes her greatly surprised to arrive in a hotel that is anything but, and likely more expensive than anywhere she'd ever been.

The question of whether they were really in the right place falls from her lips easily, and Kaz is quick to confirm they are. Brian says there had been some issue with their previous reservations that led to an unexpected upgrade, and she decides there's nothing to complain about. It is a lot better, and as long as they wouldn't all be broke trying to pay for it, might as well enjoy it.

There is a lightness to the conversation that flows easily between them as they venture up to find their respective rooms, unhurried steps as they explore hallways in search of the right numbers. Grace is still caught up in conversation when she finds hers, absent-mindedly opening the door while her attention remains outside. She laughs at Brian's stupid joke and decides that's her cue to retire to her room, reaching for her luggage before finally turning — and shock keeps her from taking any step further.

The quiet, delighted gasp is silenced by a hand covering her mouth, widened brown eyes shining bright as Grace looks at him. For a moment, she isn't all too sure this is real — before stunned silence gives way to action, and she quickly covers the distance between them before throwing herself at Apollo, arms holding on to his neck.

❝ I can't believe you're here, ❞ A disbelief colored by vivid awe, accompanied by laughter that makes it clear she rejoices in the turn of events. Her hold on him tightens, her heart flutters with unrestrained affection; she doesn't want to ever let go. ❝ I — I don't know what to say. I missed you so much, Apollo. ❞

Enraptured by his presence, Grace forgets momentarily about the open door (and the conspirators who surely knew about it, yet kept her blissfully unaware). Without a second thought, she pulls him for a kiss, at once sweet and intense, lingering close when they part. ❝ I couldn't have asked for a better gift. ❞

[dolls-otherworldly-dollhouse]

          she   was   ever   the   social   luminary   ,   dancing   from   one   social   circle   to   the   next   ;   voracious   in   her   pursuit   of   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓   𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆   and   invariably   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓   𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘   she'd   bring   to   his   doorstep   .   these   were   the   better   times   —   the   better   side   of   a   woman   whose   heart   was   so   large   it   bled   through   everything   she   did   .   and   so   she   bleeds   :   persists   in   her   attempt   then   to   drag   him   from   his   bed   and   out   of   his   ramshackle   home   to   experience   what   the   city   cloaked   in   night   and   stars   has   to   offer   the   two   of   them   .   apollo   is   not   entirely   convinced   :   ❛   calliope   ...   you   know   that   i've   always   been   impressed   by   your   ability   to   pick   up   on   the   latest   lingo   the   mortals   are   using   ,   but   i   don't   think   the   saying   '   you   only   live   once   '   applies   to   —      ❜   he   makes   a   face   .   ❛   —   ...   people   like   us   .   ❜

//   tell   me   if   this   doesn't   work   and   i   can   just   send   smth   else   but   i   felt   like   calliope   might   say   yolo   /   you   only   live   once   to   apollo   and   he'd   be   like   ,,,   wdym

Calliope shook her head when he expresses disagreement with her. Crossing her arms as she slowly turns her back towards him. Not out of dismissal or rejection, but out of a desire to look out the door. A desire for The Next Thing.

"Oh Apollo... You're so wrong about that."

Turning back around, she gently takes one of his hands and takes him along towards the door. But stops just as she crosses the threshold, while he remains inside. Turning back to face him, a gentle smile spreading across her painted lips.

"We've been alive for so long that it feels that way. But you were not always Apollo. Just as Hermes was not always Hermes, and is still not Hermes as a whole."

"Even we live only once, before we simply pass on to The Next Person. They never truly become the same as the one before, they take new experiences and a new mindset along. And the one who was before is gone."

She truly believed this, and it is why she was so vehemently against what Aphrodite was doing. Why she had never agreed to attend, no matter her requests.

"Please, don't make me bring up examples like Hades and Ares. They only lived once, too... Do not overestimate your own mortality, Apollo. That is what causes us to become isolated. It's what Athena thinks, but it's not true!"

"Come Apollo. Let's live a little! Let's indulge in what the night has to offer!" She finally lets go of his hand and takes a few steps back before turning around and spreading her arms out to the evening sky.

"There's a little dive bar with horrible drinks, but the poetry reminds me of the first ages. A coffee store hidden behind a laundromat front, just for the atmosphere. And tonight there's a breakdance competition, only spread through word of mouth."

For a moment she falls silent, takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, hands brought close to her chest. Pressed to her heart.

"They're not mortals, Apollo. They're humans. And they're so full of life!"

Turning back around, she offers her hand, smiling knowingly at her friend. Waiting for him to take it and step outside.

"Let's go, to The Next Thing."

[himiona]

picture taken with a cybershot, edited by myself, text authorial

https://www.instagram.com/p/CS7dL7Fn22H/

[roteden]

mel was telling me the story of artemis and apollo where artemis fell in love with orion and apollo did not like that dude so he got orion to swim out as far as possible until he was just a dot in the distance and then he told artemis to prove that she was the best archer and got him to shoot at the dot , killing orion aNd i msrory i could only think of

[roteden]

speaking on artemis and apollo's relationship , but while eros says that the gods weren't actually related like the myths say they were , i'm gonna go ahead and say that artemis and apollo in their first incarnations were actually twins , and in following incarnations they did not always share a physical appearance , but they were connected in their spirits all the same .

and so . artemis disappearing is extra devastating for apollo and i'll say it was the one of the dominos that pushed the apollo that came before lucas to break the rules and leave town ( in the same way his sister would sneak off ) in search of smth that would end his suffering , ultimately thinking he finds it when he's drowning and realizing that . this is it . the pain can stop now . i'll just die and my eidolon will fall to the bottom of the sea . but thEN lucas showing up to save apollo and it's said in the game that the god must consent to the transfer of their eidolon which leads me to believe that in the former apollo's last moments , in a similar way to that story of someone jumping off a bridge and on the way down realizing they don't actually want to die , the former apollo realizing that he doesn't actually want to die , he just wants the pain to stop and . yeah . lucas will continue on in his place . try again . live .

and then im imagining in early years of lucas being apollo and after he's returned to the city , he's still relatively optimistic and receptive to calliope's ideas but over time , as he gains more and more memory of who he was and everything that came before , him falling into irretrievable depression and both him and calliope exacerbating each other before they fall out of contact and apollo is horribly depressed again and virtually alone this time . doesn't have artemis and doesn't have calliope or any of his other muses . perhaps would have likely tried to kill himself again if not for the oracle re-entering his life again and him finding comfort and purpose in himself being there for her . anyways yah there ain't no way i'm letting the game try to write oracle out of apollo's life and i also think there's a lot of potential to explore artemis and apollo's relationship nodnod

[roteden]

" your highness ... ? " malenia bowed her head looking down at the floor for a moment before taking off her winged helmet. inside the castle was no place for her helmet, even if she had to pretend for a moment to be more strict in her role to eden. long scarlet locks tumbled out of her helmet as she made eye contact with him. " i heard you had something urgent to tell me ? i am quite curious to know . " a soft smile blooms on her face. — @hallowedhem

          𝐀𝐍𝐃   𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇   𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑   𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓   𝐎𝐅   𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐄   𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐓𝐎   𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓   in   skilled   brush   stroke   of   a   celestial   artist   ,   at   last   does   the   young   royal   emerge   from   the   confines   of   chambers   ,   worn   appearance   preceded   just   moments   before   by   leave   of   a   woman   clad   in   severe   charcoal   gown   :   a   fierce   noble   lady   by   the   name   of   evelina   ashford   and   by   function   of   one   of   his   many   tutors   .   peeking   from   the   gap   in   the   door   ,   it   is   towards   her   well-paced   retreat   that   eden   casts   furtive   gaze   down   the   hall   ,   a   lingering   apprehension   —   an   almost   expectation   ,   even   —   that   the   noble   lady   will   round   herself   and   return   to   deliver   another   scolding   .   there   is   perhaps   a   shard   of   him   that   had   half-expected   he'd   find   her   waiting   for   him   outside   the   door   .

it's   only   after   she   disappears   around   the   corner   and   he   counts   slowly   to   five   that   the   royal   dares   venture   out   ,   caution   in   his   feet   as   hands   crack   the   door   open   just   wide   enough   to   slide   the   rest   of   his   body   through   .   guiding   the   door   to   gently   close   behind   him   ,   it   is   only   after   this   ordeal   that   shoulders   slump   against   the   door   with   a   sigh   so   heavy   ,   so   deflating   ,   his   body   threatens   to   sink   to   the   floor   .   but   no   ,   there   will   be   none   of   that   ,   for   the   night   is   still   young   .   re-straightening   both   resolve   and   his   body   ,   he   spins   on   his   heel   ,   contemplating   all   that   lies   ahead   when   —

❛   ack   ——   !!   ❜   an   unrefined   half-cry   erupts   from   his   thoughts   as   he   nearly   collides   with   a   familiar   silohuette   bowing   out   from   the   shadows   .   his   hand   jumps   to   his   waist   ,   fingers   grasping   at   emptiness   before   recognition   sets   in   .   ❛   malenia   !   ❜   emotions   flicker   rapidly   across   his   features   ,   and   as   the   prince   settles   ,   disbelieving   laughter   chokes   out   from   between   his   lips   .   ❛   ———   hah   !   haha   .   malenia   ,   you   ...   hiding   from   my   sight   like   that   ,   you   would   nearly   chase   the   life   out   of   me   !   ❜   dramatic   as   ever   is   he   as   frame   slants   back   against   the   wall   ,   hand   thrown   limp   over   his   face   in   feign   of   faintness   and   concealing   a   self-satisfied   smile   .   the   moment   does   not   thankfully   drag   on   as   he   soon   re-postures   himself   before   her   again   and   continues   :   ❛   your   timing   is   as   impeccable   as   always   .   you   were   just   the   person   i   was   about   to   go   searching   for   .   indeed   —   it   was   something   urgent   .   ❜

❛   it's   so   appreciated   ,   you   know   ?   —   you   always   come   whenever   i   send   word   .   you'd   think   that   something   like   that   would   be   of   expectation   ,   and   yet   —   bah   ,   nevermind   about   that   ,   nevermind   .   ❜   a   hand   is   waved   as   if   to   brush   the   thought   aside   .   there   is   a   pause   then   ,   fingers   fiddling   with   the   length   of   his   hair   as   lips   draw   cold   air   in   through   his   teeth   .   ❛   well   then   .   since   you've   come   all   this   way   .   it's   ...   it's   my   health   ,   you   see   .   ❜

hands   seize   hers   ,   bringing   her   palms   to   press   against   the   sides   of   his   face   .   ❛   look   at   me   ,   malenia   .   the   colour's   gone   from   my   face   —   naught   but   the   ghastly   thing   it's   fled   from   .   and   my   eyes   ?   —   as   if   the   flames   of   hell   itself   danced   within   them   .   nevermind   how   little   we've   been   able   to   practice   with   our   swords   as   of   late   and   the   effect   that's   had   on   my   stamina   ,   but   oh   ,   it's   dreadful   ,   malenia   ,   i'm   dying   ——   ❜   of   boredom   ,   it   would   seem   .   his   eyes   teeming   with   plea   ,   eden   clasps   her   hands   closer   around   his   cheeks   .   volume   drops   to   a   whisper   .   ❛   take   me   beyond   these   walls   tonight   ,   would   you   ?   nobody   has   to   know   !   ❜

[tunisian]

due to many foreseen circumstances i will go insane

[roteden]

It's still somewhat new, being so open with their affection — if open was the right word, considering they are alone in her living room. There is no hesitation, however, as Grace tiptoes, hands finding support on his chest, and leans closer to steal a kiss. Her hands move up, never breaking contact to do so, until they reach their destination, arms crossing behind his neck.

Her lips curl into a smile as they part, though she decides she is not done yet. No special reason is needed: is there anything more special than love, felt and reciprocated and overflowing, eager to make itself known in word and deed, easily manifested in the affection she so readily offers? His face is peppered with kisses, light demeanor accompanied by the lingering smile — and then she lets go, no longer able to continue tiptoeing. ❝ You could be easier to kiss, you know. I think it's a little unfair that you're so tall. ❞ — @firefurious

          𝐀𝐍𝐃   𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄   𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒   𝐉𝐎𝐘   𝐈𝐍   𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒   𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓   —   in   this   heart   that   pledges   to   her   ,   that   bends   to   her   as   she   too   ,   with   toes   upraised   ,   stretches   forth   to   partake   .   it   is   a   moment   both   fleeting   and   forever   ,   for   bathed   in   radiance   of   her   touch   is   he   ,   relearning   warmth   without   sear   .   enwrapped   in   each   bestowed   kiss   is   an   ode   ,   casting   lines   of   light   into   the   depths   of   a   soul   once   cavernous   and   adrift   ,   now   anchored   by   a   courage   that   bids   him   not   turn   away   .   from   deep   within   him   do   the   smallest   of   stones   reverberate   with   understanding   —   nay   ,   remembrance   —   that   all   flowers   in   time   turn   towards   the   sun   .  

descending   from   her   perch   ,   she   trades   jest   for   his   laughter   ,   ere   hands   decisively   hoist   grace   up   by   her   waist   .   startled   ,   she   instinctively   clings   to   him   ,   and   quick   is   he   to   seize   this   unguarded   advantage   as   apollo   guides   her   to   settle   upon   the   nearest   countertop   .   weight   shifts   towards   his   forefeet   as   he   leans   in   ,   newly   found   purchase   in   palms   gripping   the   edges   of   the   counter   .   akin   to   stalwart   pillars   do   arms   bear   aloft   his   broad   frame   on   either   side   of   his   beloved   ,   and   graced   upon   his   grace   is   a   widening   grin   .   bright   and   magnificent   are   the   stars   twinkling   in   his   eyes   ,   ere   his   crown   nestles   into   the   nook   between   her   neck   and   shoulder   and   their   resplendence   swiftly   vanishes   from   her   sight   .   the   gentle   prow   of   his   nose   grazes   soft   along   the   contour   of   her   jaw   ,   warmth   in   tender   kisses   pressed   finely   against   the   satin   of   her   throat   before   unfurling   into   an   intoxicated   sigh   .

another   shift   of   his   weight   accompanies   the   movement   of   his   right hand then   ,   venturing   unto   her   knee   and   with   touch   sinking   into   her   flesh   as   it   dares   snake   up   her   thigh   and   find   rest   upon   the   shelf   of   her   lower   back   .   and   as   his   chin   lifts   ,   there   is   little   persuasion   needed   behind   the   hand   that   draws   her   yet   closer   ,   her   hips   pressing   deliciously   against   him   .   ❛   i   don’t   know   …   ❜   said   on   breath   and   with   naught   but   breath   between   their   lips   as   the   god   tips   his   face   towards   his   sun   .   ❛   ... i’m   certain   the   two   of   us   could   put   our   heads   together   and   figure   something   out   .   ❜

[roteden]

apollo : music and the arts were once under my purview as a god .

grace : how did that get decided ? did you have a big hat full of pieces of paper and you all picked at random ?

apollo : no , we chose them for ourselves . some , at least . others were given to us by our priests . we collected godly responsibilities like marbles .

grace : ... people collect marbles ?

apollo : oh , um , or ... whatever it is mortals collect these days ... cars , perhaps ? the point is , we took our godly duties very seriously .

[roteden]

[firefurious]

It feels like a part of her had been torn apart.

Calliope had experienced loss before; children, lovers, dear friends. This is different — deeper. A sort of pain so staggering anger does not find her immediately; only grief, dousing the fire and drowning her in its bottomless waters.

They are known to pass their eidolon on a whim, to any who inspire them; what else to expect of the Muses, passion so intrinsically tied to their domain? Yet no matter who receives it or how many times it happens, they remain together, a unit of three. There is no Calliope without Clio and Thalia — until, of course, there is.

Sweet Clio did not deserve this. Captive and tortured, withering at the hands of a petty little man who had thrown away his gifts in favor of cruelty and abuse. His blood is in Calliope's hands, now, but it is scarcely enough. Clio suffered until the very end, the Muse knows. She suffered alone, separated from her sisters. She suffered until there was no fight left in her, and then she suffered more.

It tears a hole through her heart to simply think about it; it is a sight devastating to look at one once so bright and vivacious and find only the withered shell of what she had once been. Tears overflow as she holds the other Muse's lifeless hand, sobs shaking her body, a sorrow so all-encompassing there is nothing left: only the tears, only the pain.

She was — she was truly gone. Not even her eidolon remained. Nothing — an emptiness that makes her despair, cry out in agony only to find no relief in it.

The tears stain her cheeks before she opens her eyes; the sobbing continues, just as the endless aching in her heart for what had been lost lingers (it is hers, now; it will never not be hers again). Calliope — no. Grace, his voice reminds her, not Calliope. His voice — quiet, soft, sweet; the lighthouse to one adrift.

It is not enough when she opens her eyes, (When is this? Apollo... Apollo had been there too, but not like this. Someone different.) confusion evident in her gaze. Heartbeat rushed, her breath also quickens with the haste of panic, of sorrow, of distress. More instinctively than on purpose, Grace presses herself closer, holding on to the solid support of his embrace; the shelter against the storm.

The feeling — that dreadful, horrible feeling — does not go away as she weeps in his arms. You're okay, he says, a soothing hand stroking her hair; it doesn't feel like she will ever be okay again.

[roteden]

          𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒   𝐇𝐀𝐃   𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍   𝐇𝐈𝐒   𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋   𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄   —   back   when   there   was   still   a   lucas   and   when   there   were   still   people   who   knew   him   by   that   mortal   name   .   back   when   lucas   had   still   felt   like   lucas   despite   being   apollo   —   this   distinction   made   as   if   to   be   apollo   ,   o’   great   god   of   the   sun   ,   was   to   temporarily   don   the   moniker   and   mask   of   a   comic   book   hero   —   to   wield   his   prophetic   powers   in   the   name   of   good   .   the   memories   had   returned   too   late   .   to   know   the   future   is   no   gift   nor   child's   trifle   ;   he   had   learned   this   lesson   before   and   had   had   to   learn   it   again   in   this   lifetime   now   .   nightmare   followed   him   into   day   :   this   had   been   his   trial   once   before   ,   hadn't   it   ?   with   each   life   ruined   ,   he   was   made   less   and   less   lucas   ,   and   more   and   more   the   god   of   prophecy   .

and   unlike   grace   ,   there   had   been   no   one   to   guide   him   .   to   answer   his   questions   .   he   hadn't   even   understood   back   then   that   he'd   been   passed   the   former   apollo’s   eidolon   —   that   that   dim   yellow   light   that   had   been   drawn   into   his   body   meant   that   he   had   been   made   vessel   of   a   god   —   until   about   a   year   after   the   fact   ,   when   the   knowledge   had   come   to   him   in   a   dream   .   perhaps   it   was   because   of   this   that   lucas   had   ultimately   been   swallowed   up   —   head   pulled   beneath   the   surface   of   the   black   waters   that   had   crashed   down   upon   him   without   warning   .   and   unlike   the   former   apollo   ,   there   had   been   no   one   to   try   and   save   him   .

but   before   then   —   the   transition   had   been   …   confusing   to   say   the   least   .   like   completing   a   puzzle   without   knowing   what   the   final   picture   would   be   .  

and   oh   ,   the   pieces   lucas   had   been   handed   .   he   thought   he'd   been   going   insane   .   you’ll   be   eating   breakfast   and   suddenly   recall   when   you   last   ate   something   similar   in   the   17th   century   .   an   example   not   made   up   on   the   spot   but   in   fact   from   his   own   experience   this   lifetime   .   it   hadn't   been   long   after   the   pass-over   before   he’d   started   seeing   music   and   hearing   beauty   in   everything   (   before   came   more   memories   ,   and   slowly   but   surely   had   the   world   gone   colourless   and   quiet   )   .   and   then   there’d   been   …   the   other   pieces   .   fragments   of   a   god   he’d   cut   his   fingers   upon   :   the   nights   he’d   wake   up   in   a   cold   sweat   or   worse   yet   ,   screaming   .   alone   and   alone   .  

this   will   not   be   the   case   for   grace   .   apollo   can   not   take   away   the   pain   ,   but   he   can   prepare   her   for   it   .   he   will   weather   the   waters   with   her   .   fingertips   swipe   gently   at   the   far   corners   of   her   eyes   ,   and   when   the   memory   loosens   its   grip   over   her   enough   for   them   to   open   again   ,   her   gaze   appears   estranged   ,   not   altogether   grace   nor   calliope   .   this   re-piecing   of   herself   and   reality   :   he   does   not   ask   her   what   she   saw   ,   only   slowly   hoists   the   two   of   them   up   and   pulls   her   into   his   lap   ,   uncaring   of   the   way   her   tears   spill   against   him   .   lips   brush   over   her   hairline   and   over   her   head   .   ❛   i   know   ,   i   know   …   ❜   she   shudders   beneath   circles   rubbed   between   shoulder   blades   ,   and   he   murmurs   against   her   hair   ,   ❛   it’ll   be   okay   ,   love   …   i’m   here   with   you   .   ❜

his   chest   rises   and   falls   like   the   slow   push   and   pull   of   tides   ,   calm   and   far   from   any   storm   or   danger   :   ❛   focus   on   your   breathing   ,   grace   …   breathe   with   me   ,   honey   .   ❜

[animentality]

[roteden]

apollo : music and the arts were once under my purview as a god .

grace : how did that get decided ? did you have a big hat full of pieces of paper and you all picked at random ?

apollo : no , we chose them for ourselves . some , at least . others were given to us by our priests . we collected godly responsibilities like marbles .

grace : ... people collect marbles ?

apollo : oh , um , or ... whatever it is mortals collect these days ... cars , perhaps ? the point is , we took our godly duties very seriously .

[roteden]

so   the   major   apollo   songs   that   the   player   gets   a   choice   in   are   phantom   pains   ,   here   for   the   ride   ,   and   the   trial   .   there   are   a   few   other   ones   that   mention   him   and   can   change   depending   on   lyric   decisions   or   big   game   decisions   like   look   into   me   and   the   reprise   of   here   for   the   ride   ,   but   i’ll   just   focus   on   those   big   three   for   now   .   the   following   selections   i’ll   speak   on   now   are   canon   for   my   portrayal   of   apollo   ,   though   i’m   more   than   happy   to   adapt   to   other   thoughts   !  

for   phantom   pains   ,   i   use   the   full   green   edition   ,   though   i   am   pretty   partial   to   snippets   of   both   the   red   and   blue   choices   too   (   and   you   can   get   more   insight   about   calliope   and   apollo’s   relationship   and   thought   processes   through   them   )   …   musically   ,   i   do   prefer   the   green   one   overall   and   in   general   think   that   a   charming   +   clever!grace   best   suits   the   bits   of   her   personality   that   are   established   outside   of   the   choices   the   player   can   make   …

for   here   for   the   ride   ,   i   use   the   blue   edition   .

if   it   all   went   wrong   , and   it   could   go   wrong still   better   to   lose   than   to   never   open   up that’s   the   one   thing   i   want   to   get   across

as   cute   as   the   green   edition   of   the   song   is   (   especially   with   the   little   frame   where   grace   playfully   nudges   her   shoulder   against   apollo   )   ,   i   think   the   blue   edition’s   lyrics   are   more   meaningful   to   apollo’s   neuroses   and   the   overall   message   of   the   song   being   that   in   order   for   one   to   be   happy   and   ‘   joyful   ,   ‘   one   must   be   willing   to   open   themselves   up   to   the   possibility   of   failure   ,   of   shame   ,   of   losing   it   all   .   it   is   only   because   we   know   of   sadness   that   we   can   know   of   happiness   ,   and   to   live   in   fear   of   what   could   go   wrong   is   to   close   off   all   paths   ,   even   the   ones   that   can   lead   to   happiness   .  

okay   for   the   trial   ,   tbh   because   there   are   so   many   variants   to   this   ,   i   haven’t   yet   decided   the   best   combination   or   even   whether   i’d   choose   the   green   or   blue   ending   for   athena   (   red   makes   me   shriek   ,   i   would   not   punch   athena   GJFDKJGFJFD   )   .   what   i   do   want   to   say   about   the   trial   is   that   despite   following   grapollo’s   route   in   my   canon   ,   i   don’t   use   the   romantic   variant   of   apollo’s   part   for   the   song   …   the   lyrics   just   sound   goofy   as   fuck   and   i   much   prefer   his   platonic   variant   .

it’s   time   to   do   something   new i’m   ready   to   see  

the   romantic   version   just   doesn’t   do   his   character   and   development   justice   LOL   ,   almost   seems   to   reduce   his   growth   simply   to   romance   and   being   in   love   with   grace   ,   when   it’s   more   thaN   JUST   THAT   .   romance   is   not   what   pushes   apollo   out   of   the   dark   to   face   the   music   .   this   much   is   evident   in   how   even   in   platonic   routes   —   even   in   routes   where   you   side   with   persephone   over   him   —   he’s   ready   to   stand   against   athena   and   support   grace   in   her   trial   .