A golden-haired beauty promises true sorcery to those who use her perfume brand.
"Half woman, half goddess, all queen: put a spell on them with "Dendritis"!"
Click.
A mountain of a man with the smile of a guileless child explains his training routine to an enraptured audience.
"You too can be almost as cool as Ajax. Just believe in yourself!"
Click.
Two men surrounded by cameras. One younger and stunningly handsome, another - plain, but full of quiet self-assurance.
The questions keep coming. The lights keep hounding them - making the first man grin and the second rub his tired eyes and apologize for sounding a tad sleepy.
"- Now, people, I am sure you all want to know how to become like the glorious Akhi... Achilles, but the truth is - you can never be me!
- ...Because you can only be yourself and fight your own battles - that's what he wanted to say!"
Click.
A man in a suit delivers a perfectly rehearsed speech about the greatness this country could achieve - if only the people vote for him.
"- And remember - a ship without a competent steersman will sink at the first hint of a storm. Make sure you choose wisely."
Click.
A middle-aged man stares at his car's GPS device with the boundless hatred of those who know they messed up and need something - anything - to blame.
"- This is dry land. This is not Poseidon's domain. What the actual..."
A man and a woman in camo uniforms look at each other.
- Goddess, why are you showing this to me?
- You mean to say this is not worth looking at? There is a magnificent storm brewing, missing it would be such a shame.
- Looks like a storm in the works alright. How are they even in the world of the living?
- The son of Maia decided unleashing them on the world would make good retribution for something Haides did to anger him.
Her smile is brilliance itself.
- So, I have no choice but to send you, who knows these people so well, to keep the barrel of gunpowder from exploding.
- This is not the type of task you usually set me to. What CAN I do? - he demands in confusion.
- Well, go and see. That spear of yours could use some rest, and you could use some entertainment.
- So, no overt interference unless necessary?
- Correct. And do give my regards to a certain Ithakan, will you?
He nods, and, as the erstwhile ruler of Argos prepares for his new mission, yet another piece of the puzzle falls into place.
{ starter for @orderisoutofstyle }
The parchment laid out on the floor of the patio as the CEO sat with legs spread wide as the scroll was between them, a tip of a dagger pressed against the pad of his forefinger as the handle was twirled in the other prodigious hand. A tilt of curious chestnut and silver locks, emerald and sapphire narrowed down on the directions inked into the vellum with a hum inside the broad sternum. He'd sacrificed his face for a vault so long ago, what was spilling a little bit of his own blood?
A sneer so wide and wicked that curled at the corner of false flesh that was clasped to the cinnamon skin, letting the blade of the weapon split his palm open upon the marble flooring. The smell of blood swirled in with the brisk air of salt from the ocean below the Tower, the penthouse at the tippy top of the building.
A soft hiss through clenched perfect veneers, a tongue slathering over the whites as the man began to draw the symbol that the picture depicted on the document. Adding the last touches with a sneer so proud of his hand work, looking down at the insignia between jean covered thighs. Sitting there for a few seconds before a pout plumped out over synthetic features with a huff of frustration when nothing happened instantly.
“Waste of my friggin' blood..”
