for love

Orpheus Thraceidis || Musician || Poet

[to-hell-andback]

nectarandsclt·:

“how similar your words are to those that have come and died before you. how they tempted me with peace, only to slaughter my kin as soon as i looked away.” she lifts her eyebrow. “tell me, what is it you’re known for?”

“I am truly sorry that has happened to you,” he says, his sincerity clear in his voice, though it is not enough, he knows.  “The world can be cruel, and people too -- but they can also be good.”  He tries to be good, always, even if his past failures sometimes make it difficult for him to believe that he is good, even now.  

At her question, he smiles softly.  “Music.  I’m known for music, and for poetry.”

[to-hell-andback]

[to-hell-andback]

otherworldkings·:

even eyes watch him through drifting smoke. “your little undead girl?” he breathes in slowly, frowning. “she’s not my problem anymore.”

Relieved, he lets out a breath.  Eurydice is safe, at least from the Underworld.  “May I ask, then, what does bring you here?”

[to-hell-andback]

otherworldkings·:

“if i was here to hurt you, i would have done it years ago, orpheus.”

“It’s not me I’m worried for.”  Eurydice had said she did not think she could go back as she was now, but without knowing for sure, seeing Hades made him very nervous, even if those fears were ultimately baseless.

[to-hell-andback]

nectarandsclt‌:

“and what help could you possibly offer? you are a mere mortal, are you not?”

“I am.  But that does not mean I cannot help, or at least try to -- if you will let me.”

[to-hell-andback]

Random dialogue generated starter for @otherworldkings​

"Am I supposed to be scared now?"

[to-hell-andback]

Random dialogue generated starter for @her-spilled-delirims​

"I don't often get the chance to talk to someone like you."

[to-hell-andback]

Random dialogue generated starter for @nectarandsclt​

"It looks like you're in trouble there. Can I help?"

[justanotherrpmeme]

Send 💬  for me to make you a starter with a random line of dialogue from this generator.

[terrvrs]

@to-hell-andback​ 💬 random dialogue sentence starter

“Are you taking his side against me?”

[to-hell-andback]

“I’m not.  It was only a question.”

[plotbunnie]

Nonverbal RP Starters

I’m finding it difficult to find memes for nonverbal characters ( be they mute, or just not fond of talking ) so I thought I’d make a few!

Neutral

☝️ Tap my muse on the shoulder

👉 Point to something for my muse to see

🤙 Bump into my muse

😊 Sit down next to my muse

🤨 Sit down across from my muse

📓 Push/Slide [an object] across a table to my muse

✍️ Pass my muse a note

🙄 Roll their eyes at my muse

🚪 Tap on a table/door/wall/chair to get my muse’s attention without speaking

Aggressive

🐺 Growl at my muse

😬 Snarl/show teeth at my muse

😠 Death Glare at my muse

🙌 Push/Shove my muse

👊 Punch my muse

👖 Kick my muse in the shin

👠 Stomp on my muse’s foot

😵 Knee my muse in the gut

💀 Knee my muse in the groin

🔪 Point a weapon at my muse

🖕 Flip my muse the bird/a similar gesture

👔 Roughly pull my muse down by the collar

💢 Bang on a door/wall/table to get my muse’s attention- angrily

Angst

👩‍⚕️ Put pressure on my muse’s wound

🌡 Push my muse down to give them medical attention

🥣 Bring my muse soup/medicine when they are sick

🤢 Hold my muse’s hair back/Rub my muse’s back while they are sick/throwing up

👐 Hold my muse when they are badly wounded/dying

👁 Wake my muse up during a nightmare

🐱 Hold my muse after a nightmare

😭 Hold my muse when they are crying

😢Touch my muse’s shoulder while they are crying in secret

💧 Wipe away my muse’s tears

💥 Try to calm my muse during an overwhelming emotional moment

⛈ Find my muse after some kind of trauma

Soft

👕 Tug on my muse’s sleeve/shirt/skirt

🐈 Lean against my muse’s side

🤝 Hold my muse’s hand

🤗 Pull my muse into a hug

🐕 Rest their head on my muse’s shoulder/knee

🐶 Nuzzle my muse with their nose [specify a location]

✋ Touch the back of my muse’s hand

🤝 Reach for my muse’s hand to hold it

👗 Fix/Straighten my muse’s clothes

😴 Stand by the bed to see if my muse will let you under the covers with them

🛌 Crawl under the covers with my muse

🥪 Set a plate/tray/bowl of food down for my muse

😚 Kiss my muse on the cheek

Playful

🌸 Put a flower in my muse’s hair

✨ Playfully shove my muse’s shoulder

💃 Pull my muse onto a dance floor/up to dance

🤞 Come up beside them and tap the shoulder opposite where they’re standing

😈 Jump out of the shadows to scare/startle my muse

😛 Stick their tongue out at my muse

😱 Make a silly face at my muse

🤭 Tickle my muse

👃 Poke my muse’s nose

💪 Pick my muse up

Sensual/Sexual

💘 Pull my muse in for a rough kiss

💕 Pull my muse in for a tender kiss

💞 Pull my muse in for a messy/desperate kiss

💖 Lean in to give my muse a sweet/chaste kiss

❤️ Lean in to give my muse a tender kiss

🔥 Pull my muse down by the collar/by their clothes - in a sexy way

😉 Pull my muse in by the hips

😲 Smack my muse’s butt

💋 Kiss my muse’s neck

👌 Push my muse down and give them a massage

👙 Pull [an article of clothing] off my muse

👀 Push my muse down on the bed

👄 Pull my muse onto the bed

[to-hell-andback]

[to-hell-andback]

💧 hades x orpheus

The final notes of his song echo throughout the silent Underworld.  Orpheus trembles, tears on his face, but he does not look up, not yet.  This is the most important thing he has ever done, and the tiniest mistake could ruin everything.  He has felt cold from the moment he beheld his wife on the ground, lifeless and empty, but now, the silence stretching on longer and longer, the cold within him grows stronger.

He cannot go home alone.  Whatever happens, he cannot leave here without Eurydice.

Suddenly, the god of this place stands in front of him, and Orpheus’s heart clenches as he waits for Hades to reveal their fate.  The song was powerful, he know, but was it enough?  And then, brushing a tear from his cheek, Hades says the most reassuring, and the most terrifying, words Orpheus thinks he has ever heard.

He can leave, and Eurydice with him -- but she must walk behind him.  If he turns to look at her before they are both in the sunlight, she returns to the Underworld.  Forever.

He lets out a sob, but it is one of overwhelming relief.  He feels no fear yet, or doubt.  Only relief, gratitude, and determination.  They can leave, both of them, together.  Eurydice will live again.  All they have to do is walk out, back the way Orpheus has already come.  It is not an easy walk, he knows, but so much easier knowing she is with him.  He will not fail.

He will not.

He fails.

[nymphcea]

𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎  𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚛  |  @for-remembrxnce​

𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒  ,  𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒  twisting  round  each  other  as  the  goddess  contemplated  her  request  .  it  was  a  selfish  one  that  she  hoped  orpheus  would  not  mind  her  indulgence  in  ,  yet  would  have  every  right  to  react  strongly  to  .  slipping  into  the  crowd  to  enjoy  his  music  ,  sweet  as  a  lark  singing  ,  happy  as  a  bubbling  brook  now  that  his  wife  had  returned  to  his  arms  .  to  have  even  approached  him  ⸻  her  shame  would  keep  her  restless  until  the  next  dawn  .

‘  it  is  …  unfounded  for  me  to  have  approached  you  .  i  realize  that  .  i  would  just  like  to  know  how  the  two  of  you  are  faring  ?  ’  eurydice’s  frequent  company  in  the  underworld  had  forged  them  a  bit  of  a  friendship  ,  despite  the  circumstances  of  it  coming  to  be  .

[to-hell-andback]

Things are not perfect.  While Eurydice adjusts to her new condition and everything that comes with it, they are not even living together.  It is not safe.  Still, just knowing that she is in the world once again, being able to hold her again, even if not as often as he would like, it brings out an effervescent quality in his music that he thought he had lost forever.  He is happy, honestly happy, for the first time in so very long.

When Persephone approaches him, he feels a jolt of panic go through him for just a moment -- irrational, of course, but it is hard to be entirely rational when one’s wife suddenly returns to life after five years apart, alone.  “Lady Persephone.”  Though he holds no ill feelings towards her, he had not expected to see her, and certainly not looking as hesitant as she does now.  At her question, though, a smile touches his lips, despite the imperfections in their current situation.  “We are adjusting,” he admits, but his smile does not falter, because he speaks in present tense.  “But we are better than we have been.  We’re happy, and we will be happier still.”  

After a brief pause, another smile, even brighter than the first, blooms across his face.  “She’s alive,” he adds, astonishment clear in his voice still, and to himself as much as to her.  Technically, that is not quite true, of course, but the words feel so beautiful on his lips, in his heart, that he cannot help repeating them to himself with some frequency.  It is close enough to the truth, and, truthfully, there is a part of him that still cannot quite believe it, that needs to be reminded.

[to-hell-andback]

moldedmemories·:

She repeated the title, and it would gingerly fall from her lips in a whisper as the sounds of the lute started all over again. She’d close her eyes, and meditate on the song once more–this time she’d focus on why it made her feel the way it did. 

The second time the song was finished she wore a smile, yet a tear would still escape. She couldn’t help it. She’d flutter around for a kerchief this time to wipe away any of the spare make-up that could run down her face. She’d apologize for her reaction once more, with a nervous giggle of her own, “There I go again–” She’d huff, with a playful role of her her eyes. The stereotype of the infamous crybaby Cinderella would never die, it seemed.

“How did you get so good at your talent?” She’d choose to ask a million questions to compensate for her fragile emotions.

“When did you first start to play? And would it be too much to ask you to visit again sometime soon? Adora would be honored to provide you with anything you wish.” 

Playing the song again does nothing to dull its impact for him, or, it seems, for her.  The song itself holds a certain power that only intensifies the more one connects to it.  “Emotions are nothing to be embarrassed of,” he says, blinking back tears of his own with a small smile.  

Whatever he says, though, he cannot help being a bit relieved at the questions she asks.  The answers come easy, and are easier still to talk about.  When he speaks of his music, his smile softens into something more genuine, hardly any traces of sorrow remaining.  “I have been playing since I was very small, and singing since I was even smaller.”  The son of a muse, music flows through his very veins.  Even before he could speak, really, he sang.  “It was my first love.  Once I discovered music, there was nothing else I wanted to do.”  Though he came to music with a natural gift, his skill does not come only from his parentage, or his teacher, but from his passion, the way he puts everything he has into every note he plays.

“I play for the love of music, and to share it with anyone who will hear it.  I would be happy to return, but I would not ask for anything else.”  The only thing he really wants, the one thing he needs and cannot get, is not something anyone alive can give him, but by giving him somewhere to play his music, he can get as close to being okay in spite of that as it is possible for him to be.

[to-hell-andback]

esoteriics·:

The monk looked in amazement. That seemed so extraordinary. At least in the monk’s eyes. “That’s dedication.” The monk replied eyes wide open. Trip was curious at the other. “What do you think is music’s important power.” Trip was curious. “I haven’t heard a lot of music.” 

“It’s passion,” he amends.  Dedicating himself to his music has never been a struggle when it brings him such joy, or, now, when it brings him as close as he thinks he can get.  “Music has the power to make people feel what they don’t even know they can feel, to express what cannot be expressed any other way.  It can change people’s hearts, or reveal what is already in them.”  Music is such a part of his life, a part of himself, that he cannot imagine not having heard it often.  “Music is more beautiful than almost anything.”  Anything, he thinks, except for his wife.

[to-hell-andback]