“Old times, New ways”
Hands of Time @realmyths
Poseidon (Historical Professor/Archeologist)
If there was ever an enemy of the gods, it was time, and the boredom within doomed to claim all immortals. Time had carried the messages of the past alongside the realization of the present, and it was unavoidable. In a blur, the kingdoms had become large, fast-paced cities. The buildings made of steel and concrete quickly pushed themselves to the heavens.
Things were not as simple as they once were. The sea was constantly changing and aging alongside the sea god both doomed to be frozen regardless. The colors of the world had become blurred and often left mankind questioning their own existence in most cases.
If there was anything he could count on, it was the creativity of mankind to make life easy and convenient. Poseidon could always bank on the determination and pride to keep a constant with predictable outcomes for his benefit. Surprises came more often than not, and Poseidon often welcomed them.
Was it not so clear before?
Was a simple life gifted with trials and dreams no longer desired by man?
So be it!!
Trivial reasonings and drives had a way of fading the ambitions that once drove entire armies across the lands. Pushing their opinions in Ares Name as they taunted while the gods bidded and interfered in their own gains. The demands to be met and the grievances to be heard through the clash of swords had become increasingly catastrophic over the years as the mortal power grew with each invention. Each breath Gaia took shook the bones of nature into submission as their world crumbled. Poseidon knew it was only a matter of time before she returned the world to its original state. A date the god hoped to avoid at any cost for the time being choosing to entertain himself in the meantime in curiosity.
Ghosts of the past..
A new god rose, and the mortals slowly found themselves drifting from the Ancient world in its grasp. Mortals now offered prayers to one that was never to be seen.
Confusing!!
Would they not rather have a god who could at least answer their prayers, even if in petty nature. It was an answer all the same perhaps this was the same mentality that had pushed away their followers. Yet, they instead chose to create their own world of gods idolizing things that carried no weight in the universe.
The most confusing fact was that if they were going to follow such drives and passions, then why not declare themselves gods? The outcome would have been the same. Mortals had so boldly done so behind closed doors away from peering eyes, forcing themselves over each other with no gain or conquest.
Where was the creativity and vision?
No matter! To be carried in the arms of time was not so bad in the end, even if there was no alternative. If nothing else, it made for quite an amusing scene of events and twists.
Poseidon had wealth and many decades to match the visions pushed into reality by mortals. The music was to die for, and the vices had never changed, still working just as they had in ancient times.
The dances and worship of the old were precious, and it made it easier for the patrons to find new blessings alongside the curses they brought upon themselves.
Instead of allowing plagues and despair to blanket, the lands mortals opted to allow an object with no pulse or heartbeat to rule their hearts clouding the judgment given to the masses. Perhaps the opposite was to be said in the same note when it came to pointing fingers.
Oftentimes, divine reasoning was held as an excuse to pardon the crimes against the gods and humanity. To explain away the evils of one’s heart was so easily done without the accountability of the gods! Less work for the seagod as far as Poseidon was concerned, and he could have cared less in the end.
The god couldn’t help but drown in his thoughts. The silence was deafening as his mind continued down the tunnel of questions and curiosity. Each left him with more questions than the original thought. Though his fate had allowed the time to dwell on the past in comparison, Poseidon still would lose himself in the grief. It always came like the furies constantly presenting the god with the death of the world he was born into, now just a memory.
A soft growl escaped him before he fell back against the warm grains of sand. The setting sun brought back more memories of his fellow gods he dearly missed, and a distant sign escaped him.
They had each become distant and lost in the times only to wed their lots and passions without plausible explanation. Blending with the mortals only for the entertainment offered was not new. What had changed was the need to buy one's opinion, not enforce it with nature's settings. Mortals fought over shoes and purses, not the value of Gaia or the Sea, and he had grown tired of boasting long ago. Why curse mankind when they had already cursed themselves with their own hands. It was simply more fun to set back and watch things play out. Their statues and temples had long since crumbled, but their birthright never fled them.
His chest rose and fell as he watched the clouds pass slowly dancing into different shapes. The sound of the waves crashing against the shores represented his calm mood.
The calmness of the element pushed back out after crawling into the sand before being pulled back once more in constant motion. Finally, blue hues slowly closed, Poseidon sprawled out in attempts to recover deep in slumber. Not just from his thoughts, but the consumption of wine had exhausted him.
Though the times had changed, Dionysus had always remained the same, providing entertainment and good company. The wine god often gave blessings to celebrate the past and present in which he now flourished right under the gaze of mortals. The loud music and sounds still echoed in his mind as Poseidon rested the god half humming the beat outloud. If anything, Dionysus and Apollo were wise to join the times bringing their own unknown praise and prayers with every song and sip.
Upon his chest, strung on a thin gold chain was his trident. The old friend had stayed with him in convenience despite all that had changed. The need for such a weapon had quickly dwindled, but he would never cast her aside. The fear of the sea and her wrath had somehow remained the same against the odds of technology, deeming his force of hand now unnecessary.
Poseidon let out a snort of a chuckle as the thoughts passed of how they had attempted to explore and conquer the sea's depths. The urgency in which mortals had rushed to the shores for safety and aimed their sights for the stars was even more amusing. The god had laughed for a week, and even as the thought rose, he found himself half roaring in his drunken humor. He had only given them a glimpse. Even Odysseus had seen more darkness upon his lot than Poseidon had offered the mortals of this new world.
Slowly, after many hours had passed, the god with a groan slowly woke from his unwarranted slumber. Pushing himself up on his elbows, Poseidon let out a huff, quickly checking his phone for the date and time. He gave a quick glance over his shoulder before finally forcing himself to his fee still in schedule. A long stretch was given as Poseidon stood brushing aside the grains of sand, now clinging to his tall form.
The University of Magic°•~☆°
The sun that was once in the west now rose in the east, and Poseidon pulled his hair up, twisting it to tie into place off his shoulders. He had a mind to head back into the depths of the sea for more slumber and then bask in his library for a few weeks before finding a new school to venture through. As the thought passed, it was rudely interrupted with a ding informing the god that he had other engagements to tend to. He had become a bit lazy with the accomplishments of man, and thankfully, his nap had been brief. The thought quickly reminded him of a temple he had converted into a lofty home, and the god turned on his heel to proceed.
The footprints left behind in his wake slowly disappeared, the spell he had placed long ago still active to date. His feet would never be tracked upon his beaches. A small trick granted to the god by Hermes himself.
Poseidon had been challenged by the god to locate and capture Hermes in exchange for a favor. The sea god in ignorance had quickly accepted on terms that Hermes could not hide in the underworld. He was bested by Hermes because there was nothing for Poseidon to track.
The sore and petty loser had refused to grant favor until the psychopomp had agreed to tell him how he did it. After that, things got a lot easier for the Seagod when it came to strategy and evading gods.
His gaze shifted to a small approaching form, and he debated his desire for company, quickly deciding against it. He had a college to visit, and Poseidon desired to simply rest, shower, and prepare himself in peace.
He wasn’t hungover, so the banging headache was not a factor at the moment, and he continued his pace. A fair mood was safe to be assumed, and the god was content to enjoy his evening drinking and reading alone.
If nothing else, the mortals wrote amazing stories, and Poseidon over time had accumulated a large library he regularly visited. One gift the mortals had given back was the chance to escape time with the various worlds and creations within. Each book he read pulled his curiosity to the point he often found himself lost for days at a time.
Poseidon had many dealings in the past, and he often found himself complacent with thought. Less cares were cast to the distant shouting the constant of many years to follow. With his indulgence in books and literature, a great idea finally came to him centuries ago. To follow those in each generation who built the foundation of the modern world. What better entertainment than to separate the facts from myths while basking in the stories of new worlds and art.
The lion had been tamed by words as the god over time had made the decision to join the world in his own way. Luckily, Poseidon never had the desire to conquer or rule to such a degree to loudly boast and force his will behind a mask. Such a world was now blurring past him as time shared its many wonders and blessings.
Poseidon found himself dancing from university to university, each more prestigious with the literature and customs they had each collected. Over time, Poseidon laid his family tree as if he himself were his own ancestors forging documents much like a vampire to pass through the hands of civilization undisturbed. Wealth was of no question after a few meaningless treasures were sold to museums. converting into currency to match the modern world.
Now, feet stood before another elegant design holding a title of pride and elegance. He had slipped into something hidden from the eyes of mortals by accident while following a trail of books the god had actually assumed fiction.
The god had the time to invest to seek the truth from fiction, and there was no harm in investigating. To out of curiosity, follow the hands of time backwards, exploring the world himself, earning the title of archeologist and historian. As such, he now stood before the doors of a magical school full of creatures from around the world, not unlike himself. Behind their walls held vast secrets of knowledge. As the world destroyed the history of truth and forced the supernatural to revert back to the ways of old, they'd become more strategic. They'd chosen to pass their truths and stories while teaching their young to survive such a chaotic world that was now deemed unsafe for all. The professor's assignment, in short, was to show them the truth of the world while assisting them in the art of blending in rather than facing the world's fearful eye in surprise.
To exist just as Poseidon had and survive the great changes that had swept their world that was once so difficult. The challenges, however, beckoned him like a child and distracted him from the woes.
Ocean hues took in the stones, judging the age of the school to be far past the expected centuries. Protected and hidden by magic in a clock of existence between the spiritual and mortal realms. An elaborate means to ensure their studies and classes remained undisturbed for both students and staff.
Getting in was easy enough after Poseidon had taken on the fact that the school rested upon the shores of the ocean. He bargained with protection upon the waters for the students and staff alike. An old barter, but seeing as there were many lost in studies beyond their veil, the troublesome issue could now be resolved, ensuring safety. Unimpressed was the dean as she rejected his offer, much to his surprise.
All the god had asked was to have access to the library and stocks of lost knowledge to follow his curiosity and boredom. They at first had declined him for his temperament, but he easily swayed them with conversation and a simple game of vulcan chess. The latter had changed their minds alongside a non-negotiable donation of books and scrolls of old, held within the gods' own library. Of course, they had brought up in question what he did with the things he had come across. He'd hidden them away, and his library was inaccessible by all. Hidden deep beneath the darkness of the sea's grip under a seal, each scroll, page, and artifact frozen in time from around the world. Now, such had recently become his greatest bargaining chip with most universities, mortal and supernatural alike.
Brown strands fell over his shoulder, his thin lips twisted a bit as Poseidon began up the stairs. The male quickly recalled the class he had filled in for the previous day with a cringe.
The faces that passed him in a blur were dismissed as he entered, the god having mastered ignoring the large map of presence gifted to a god's perception. Now, the colors would pass by undisturbed unless they hold relevance of interests as he moved through the moments of introductions. Poseidon wasn't one for words, unamused was his temperament in most cases in presentation. The god cast away the greetings of fellow colleagues more anxious to find their grand library and bury himself away rather than converse meaninglessly.
The dean was one of annoying nature. Poseidon found humor in her calculated and sharp nature. He respected her position and lifespan, but the two did not see eye to eye often. As her graceful form approached, he studied those eyes of silver, raising a brow as she stopped before him. An elegant stiletto nail poked his chest as she warned him with a glare, daring him to challenge her words before she had even spoken them. Her issue with the god was his sarcasm in words and gestures. The uncanny presence drove her mad to her core. Have it her way, even the mighty Poseidon would handle as expected at all times just as the rest of her school. She'd address the matter before he even sat down in any seat in the college.
“Some in the school, you have had crossings with Poseidon, for example, Medusa is in the library, and you are not to address her presence in any manner. Second, the use of power is forbidden in this school even for the staff, unless a warranting situation arises. In which, I will approve first, before you do anything godly.”
Her elegant purple and silver robes danced about her slender form as the dean threw up quotations with her fingers to sum up all in which she spoke.
“We pride ourselves with mastering one's own self before the use of magic, and as staff, you will follow suit as an example.”
With a snap, she turned from the god in a dismissive wave as her long silver hairs followed her movements before settling back into a place as she glanced back over her shoulder towards him.
“No offense, of course, but we have much to lose should things go wrong. With that being said, you do have a class to attend to. The elven professor who teaches ancient literature is due to give birth soon, and you'll be filling in while she is away. It is because I want to see if you can manage one of the most..”
A pause was given as she reached out, handing him a neat stack of folders waving him off nonchalantly with a flap of her golden wings.
“Intereting and lively classes this school has to offer! Unfortunately, I regret to inform you that there will be no visit to the library today!”
The dean finished with a soft laugh, barely escaping her retreating back as she made her way down the hall. She'd pause once more to softly scold a student who rushed down the hall late to her class. Elvira cast a wave for good luck, leaving behind the god who with a mouth agape stood stunned.
She was now able to handle and prepare Medusa before the librarian found out about the gods' arrival. The dragon was content to handle her dealings peacefully as well, even with another god added to the roster. The long trails of silks and various fabrics adorning her dragging in a train behind her elegant glide added to her stoic posture.
Poseidon didn't know where to begin with the string insults, but it was honestly a welcomed decent change from the mortal world of ego stroking. A shrug was cast as he lifted the folder to read, turning to head down the halls as expected with a tilt of his head.
