[troyfallen]

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the   greatest   of   the   greeks   and   most   prideful of   men,  he   served   within   troy’s   great   siege,   fell   to   the   same   rage   and   grief   which   he   caused,   and   found   himself   aloof   within   hades   walls.   rotting   from   his   own   want   for   war,   he   sought   rebirth;   owing   more   to   him   than   they   would   admit,   the   gods   granted   him   another   life.   and   so   𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐒,   the   greatest   of   the   greeks,   was   reborn   anew.   he   serves   the   gods   still,   though   he   has   sought   a   new   place   for   his   destined   weakness:   the   soft   skin   at   the   cusp   of   his   right   hand,   which   he   would   never   allow   another   to   hold.   

independent   &&   highly   selective   interpretation   of   𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐬 in both a myth && modern setting.   informed   by   the   achilleid,   iliad,   and   the   odyssey,   among   other   sources.

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒. | 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒. | 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐃. | 𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄.

you   cannot   escape   what's to come:  the   weight   of   divine   rage   on   mortal   souls,   the   ever-present   grief   of   the   foretold, the   grief of what   has   not   yet died. o' achilles, what ruthlessness has made of you.

[bringthunder]

𝑰'𝑴 𝑮𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑨 𝑩𝑬 𝑵𝑶𝑩𝑶𝑫𝒀'𝑺 𝑺𝑶𝑳𝑫𝑰𝑬𝑹 !!

the lost son of zeus; a demigod plunged into tartarus by his own rage ( and his father's eager hand ) then salvaged by the titan of time. a man out of his era, a figure wrapped in storms && spite, who reeks of death && cigarettes.

an independent / highly selective original character based in the riordanverse / percy jackson, but with additional verses present for additional fandoms, as struck by tally (he/it, 25). triggering themes will be present; proceed at your own discretion.

a study in surviving past the narrative ; in the consequences of divine wrath ; in the agony of being known; in the ways we cope && all the ways we shouldn't.

[apologizelater]

phthia.       that  draws  a  crease  to  steve's  brows.       he  enjoys  history  –  his  entire  apartment  is  filled  with  as  many  books  on  the  subject  as  he  can  read.       enhanced  brain  has  made  it  easy  to  blow  through  those  books  as  if  they  were  as  simple  as  children's  picture  books.       while  it's  true  he'd  spent  most  of  his  attention  on  learning  american  history  in  his  downtime  since  defrosting  ,  he's  not  skipped  out  on  world  events  &*  geography.         a  lot  changes  in  seventy  years.          while  he  might  not  know  as  much  about  the  rest  of  the  world  ,  he's  never  heard  of  phthia.       tries  quickly  to  place  it  –  it  sounds  greek  ;  matches  the  sharper  features  of  the  man  before  him.       assumptions  –  but  one  he  can  test.   

❛    they  call  me  the  first  avenger.    ❜          he  says  his  words  in  greek  –  modern  greek  ,  to  be  fair  ,  but  greek  nonetheless.        his  accent  is  perfect  --  another  perk  of  enhanced  intelligence.        he  spends  much  of  his  free  time  studying  anything  he  can  –  fighting  ,  language  ,  history.         ❛    i  suppose  it  fits     …     i  killed  the  red  skull  for  killing  my  best  friend.   ❜        history  would  not  phrase  it  that  way.        but  steve  crashed  that  plane  to  join  bucky  in  the  ice  –  the  only  person  who  knew  that  was  peggy  ;  it's  not  a  secret  she  divulged.       ❛    now  we  fight  to  correct  the  wrongs  the  world  has  wrought.      it's  a  promise  –  if  you  attack  ,  we  fight  back.    ❜

[troyfallen]

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑-𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄   has   changed,   but   so   too   has   the   greatest   of   the   greeks.   words   have   shifted   in   meaning,   pronunciations   differ   drastically   to   how   he   once   knew   them,   but   this   does   not   dissuade   his   understanding   -   nor   does   it   dull   the   sharpness   which   bleeds   into   his   eyes   when   the   other   speaks   his   favored   tongue.   there   is   an   alertness   there   which   defies   definition   with   a   passion;   it   can   only   be   known   as   the   recognition   of   the   sound   of   your   childhood   home’s   door   opening   and,   despite   the   presence   of   new   occupants,   still   being   the   safest   place   in   the   world, at least to some part of him.    ❝    i   see.   then   i   suppose   the   name   makes   sense,   even   if   it’s   still   not   the   most   pleasing   to   the   ear.   ❞   his   greek   is   older.   it   is   a   mixture   of   modern    &&   archaic,   an   almost   poetic   cadence   to   his   speech   -   fitting,   considering   his   position   in   one   of   the   oldest   tales.   the   most   the   admission   of   a   killing   gets   is   a   nod;   even   with   minimal   context,   it   clicks   in   achilles   mind   well   enough.   gods   know   this   man   is   not   the   first   to   kill   out   of   rage   for   a   loved   one:   he   is   speaking   to   the   patron   saint   of   it.    ❝  …   then   they    &&   i   have   something   in   common,   to   a   degree.   ❞   he   nods   to   the   display,   to   the   man’s   attire.   ❝   though   the   wrongs   i   deal   with   are   slightly   harder   to   kill.   ❞

[troyfallen]

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 ( @wntrsghost ) said, "You’re distracting me, you know."

𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒   precious   little   to   go   off   in   regards   to   how   james   has   spent   his   life.   he   knows   some   particular   details   here   &&   there   —   a   man   out   of   time,   a   dog   in   a   vicious   kennel,   a   metal-armed   menace   with   vendettas   to   spare   —   but   never   has   the   other   given   such   a   clear   indication   of   a   prior   job.    the   whine   of   metal   being   pulled   from   metal   is   covered   by   the   bark   of   a   laugh   which   escapes   the   reborn   greek.   achilles   has   never   been   a   careful   fighter;   when   the   laughter   tips   his   head   back,   it   exposes   a   vaguely   hand-shaped   smear   of   ash   that’s   wrapped   ‘round   the   front   of   his   throat.   it’s   courtesy   of   the   person   —   or   maybe   monster   —   which,   mere   moments   ago,   was   almost   giving   the   pair   trouble   in   coordination   with   its   fellows.   he   reckons   they   were   nothing   more   than   fodder,   things   sent   to   keep   people   on   their   toes   rather   than   kill. rookies,   achilles   thinks,   idiots.    he   runs   a   hand   through   his   hair,   staining   gold   with   black   in   the   process,   &&   glances   at   james.   his   typical   indifference   is,   at   least   for   a   few   beats,   replaced   by   a   sort   of   glee   that   only   comes   from   a   hound   being   in   its   natural   habitat.   nothing   makes   him   quite   as   happy   as   dispatching   things   that   should   have   known   better,   after   all   -   especially   since   one   did   manage   to   get   close   to   his   throat.    ❝   i   didn’t   know   you   were   a   comedian,   ❞   chimes   achilles.   ❝   i   was   being   perfectly   quiet.   if   you   got   distracted,   that’s   your   own   fault.   no   one   can   blame   you:   i   was   the   most   handsome   guy   back   in   troy.   ❞   he   pauses,   snorts,   &&   amends   his   own   tease   if   only   to   appease   the   distant   spirit   of   athena,   ❝   diomedes   &&   patroklos && i   were   tied.   ❞            

tension prompts ( accepting )

[stygicniron]

Nico's scowl is positively mutinous as he holds his stance for a moment, deadly Stygian iron blade poised over his head in a block before he shifts forward, slicing the blade down before pivoting and bringing it back up in a short, sharp thrust. Sweats beads his forehead and muscles scream from repeating the same motion over and over again, but Achilles expects perfection, and perfection is what he's going to get. Even if it kills Nico in the end.

Gods above and below, Nico doesn't think he's that shabby of a fighter but nothing escapes the spirit's exacting gaze and he allows himself a frustrated sigh, grinding his teeth as he reins in his tongue. "What was wrong that time, sir?" he says politely, although his tone is nothing close to polite.

[troyfallen]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓   remember   where   achilles   hails   from.   not   his   fair   home,   no,   but   the   time.   how   many   divine   children   &&   grandchildren   &&   great-grandchildren   lay   dead   on   troy   when   all   was   said   &&   done   ??   how   many   souls   crossed   towards   elysium   thinking   themselves   rewarded   by   their   parents,   only   to   instead   be   ushered   into   a   gospel   ??   oh,   he   knows   the   heroes   of   legends   that   stay   in   paradise!   he   loathes   that   lazy   lot:   the   world   may   very   well   be   on   the   cusp   of   succumbing   to   a   second   titanomachy,   &&   those   who   he   once   adored   would   sit   by.   perhaps   they   train   the   dead,   but   none   care   for   the   living   quite   like   achilles.   his   care   is   like   that   of   the   gods:   it   destroys. he   steps   towards   the   demigod   &&   gestures   not   to   a   specific   part,   but   to   the   whole   of   the   younger’s   body. ❝   you   swing   with an   eagerness that   will   get   you   killed.   ❞   his   posture   straightens   after   a   beat;   his   weight   shifts   to   his   back   foot,   his   shoulders   rise   just   enough   to   be   noted.   he   pats   his   side   with   his   hand. ❝   your   stance   is   disjointed,   like   pieces   instead   of   a   whole.   your   arms   are   more   eager   than   your   legs;   a   strong   gust   could   knock   you   off   balance   like   that.   every   part   has   to   move   in   unison.   has   to   move   with   purpose.   together.   ❞    he   steps   back,   eyes   locked   on   the   younger   boy.   ❝   swing   like   you’re   trying   to   kill   something,   demigod.   you’re   not   wanting   for   inspiration   on   that   front.   ❞

[necroticmusings]

                                    Death can have me when it earns me.

[unseencne]

crimson eyes followed the movement of the other's head, to where a building should have stood. but like everything else, it was now nothing more than ruins and dust. his mind wandered, unwillingly, through memories, searching for the place, for the girl achilles spoke of.

slowly, the memory formed. walls rose where there were none, light returned, and for a feeting moment the god could almost hear it. music, laughter, the voices of those who once walked that land. almost. when he blinked, it was gone again. reduced to silence, as if it had never existed at all.

❝ would it bring you more peace, if i told you they did ? ❞ only then did crimson eyes return to the hero. there was no compassion in them. no attempt at comfort. not because he did not understand, but because he did. emotion was a dangerous thing. one he had long learned not to let command him. it was never meant to be part of him, and the god avoided it as much as he could.

[troyfallen]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒   indeed   a   sense   of   endless   grief   roiling   ‘round   in   his   heart,   a   sea   which   —   when   some   vast   &&   incomprehensible   madness   seized   it   —   became   nigh   unstoppable   in   its   fury.   it   claimed   everything   about   him:   the   way   he   held   himself,   identical   to   how   he   did   prior   to   the   end   of   all   things;   the   way   he   regarded   others   as   though   he   had   already   seen   the   end   of   their   stories,   for   he   knew   the   sorts   of   folks   who   wound   up   in   his   company;   &&   now,   how   he   regarded   ruins   as   homes   that   should   have   still   been   standing. though   achilles   tried   to   not   put   himself   in   the   shoes   of   a   god,   he   imagined that   time   itself   must   have   been   a   conundrum   for   them:   decades   were   years   to   them,   years   were   months,   &&   so   on   &&   so   forth.   were   the   memories   fresher   for   the   god   than   they   were   for   the   man   ??   most   definitely.   &&   yet,   evidently,   only   one   possessed   particular   feelings   towards   the   old   stomping   grounds. achilles’   brows   furrowed   at   hades   question.   though   he   was   a   man   in   his   twenties,   sometimes   he   still   clearly   resembled   the   hero   who   had   stormed   troy.   he   had   made   the   same   puzzled   face   dozens   of   times   before   while   listening   to   the   great   odysseus   explain   his   plans,   having   to   work   twice   as   hard   as   those   around   him   to   understand   the   intricacies   of   the   ithacan   king’s   genius. ❝   best   not   to   shape   your   answers   around   how   i’d   feel   about   them,   ❞   achilles   reminded,   his   gaze   remaining   fixed   on   the   nearby   stones.   ❝   you   &&   i   both   know   peace   is   far   from   me,   regardless   of   your   answer.   which,   by   the   by,   i’d   still   like.   ❞   

[troyfallen]

OH BOY, A NEW YEARS POST. mind, new years is still a few hours off where i'm at, but if i don't write this now i'll probably forget to and then wake up tomorrow cursing god. trying to avoid that, y'know?

anyways. i'm not gonna get too sappy here, but man, this year's been rough. i try not to talk a lot about my life outside of the writing sphere a lot 'cause i'm just a private person - and even when i know folks, getting me to talk about stuff that goes on in the day-to-day is like pulling teeth with me. we stan a self-aware king, i guess?

case and point, without going too much into detail, this year has been a hard one for me. it's been rough, gang. i've made some serious strides, however, and it hasn't been all bad: i wrote 70k words in november for a project i'll never continue to prove to myself that i could; i passed my state's praxis for teaching, and am hoping to get a position as a proper teacher sometime next year if all goes well; most importantly, i made a lot of new friends.

something that consistently motivates me to keep being silly goofy and finding whimsy is the fact that i get to go home at the end of the day and write on this hellsite. hell, i'm over the moon that i exist at a time where that's possible. that i exist at the same time as people who want to write with both the various doofuses i portray and the doofus behind the screen (that's me btw) is legitimately something that makes me very, very happy.

i am not joking when i say that since ive returned to the rpc earlier this year, writing with everyone has legitimately been both a factor in improving my own writing and my general mental health. naturally the friends i've made writing this doofus (and every other doofus since i rejoined the rpc) go without saying; i've met some truly incredible, kind, and skilled people doing all of this. again, i can't help but feel fortunate to exist at the same time as my friends.

i look forward to entering 2026 and writing more with you all, and making more friends both on here and on my other blogs. y'all are fantastic, and i hope the new year greets you with kindness.

[bringthunder]

she was out of her mind when she said it, of course. ( she usually was when she spoke to me. ) for a second, though, there was something in her eyes. i couldn't tel l what. if it'll keep her around, i told myself, then okay. i'll bring the sky down with me, and i'll be my mom's favorite shooting star.

#𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄: independent && highly selective original character set within the percy jackson universe, as adored by tally (he/it).

[unseencne]

crimson eyes remained fixed on the ruins, watching, feeling, almost searching for a home that had never truly been one. a city that once spoke his name with reverence, that built temples and whispered prayers into the dark. now reduced to stone and ash. what a shame. and yet ... the god felt nothing. no grief. no sorrow. only a familiar weight of duty, the same one that had settled upon his shoulders the moment he became lord of the underworld.

he wondered, distantly, why the absence of feeling bothered him more than the destruction itself. achilles' question reached him then. to hades, it sounded unnecessary. why would the god of the underworld walk among the living if not to claim them ? and yet, death itself existed for that purpose. still, some tasks were too vast, too chaotic, to be left to one alone. or perhaps ... he was simply tired of his own realm.

❝ do you truly need me to answer that question for you achilles ? ❞ he asked at last. only then did those crimson eyes move, finding the hero where he stood among the broken stones.

[troyfallen]

𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐃   long   since   looking   for   ghosts.   he   knew   where   they   sat   ‘neath   elysium’s   evergreen   trees,   where   they   fished   on   the   winding   streams   which   stretched   through   a   hero’s   rightful   resting   place.   there   was   no   point   in   looking   for   them   up   here,   nor   was   there   any   true   point   in   searching   for   the   familiar   beyond   the   divine;   they   were   already   gone,   safe   in   a   place   that   he   could   not   stand   to   be   in.   elysium,   great   resting   place   -   how   you   spited   him   with   your   deluge   of   peace. the   dead,   achilles   had   learned,   had   nothing   more   to   say   to   him.   all   their   eulogies   &&   legends   had   already   been   spoken   aloud   centuries   ago;   the   passive   conversations   he   could   have   with   them,   or   with   any   spirit   which   lingered   about   the   ruins,   would   have   been   only   repetitions   of   ones   he’d   already   had.   echoes.   broken   records.    he   hummed   a   single   note,   then   bobbed   his   head   from   side   to   side.   perhaps   his   assumption   was   wrong,   &&   it   may   very   well   have   earned   him   some   kind   of   smiting   or   chide   from   the   dead-king,   but   that   had   never   stopped   him   from   speaking   before.   only   made   him   cherish   the   words   a   little   more   before   they   were   said.    ❝   so   you’re   here   for   nostalgia,   then.   ❞   achilles   said   calmly,   regarding   the   god   from   the   corners   of   his   eyes.   ❝   do   you   remember   the   girl   who   used   to   sell   bread   over   there   ??   ❞   he   tipped   his   head   in   a   nod   towards   one   of   the   crumbled   remnants   of   a   building.   ❝   did   she   -   did   anyone   from   these   ruins   -   ever   pass   you   by   on   the   way   to   asphodel   ??   ❞

[bringthunder]

she was out of her mind when she said it, of course. ( she usually was when she spoke to me. ) for a second, though, there was something in her eyes. i couldn't tel l what. if it'll keep her around, i told myself, then okay. i'll bring the sky down with me, and i'll be my mom's favorite shooting star.

#𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄: independent && highly selective original character set within the percy jackson universe, as adored by tally (he/it).

[troyfallen]

𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 ( @remauriel ) said, "You’re just making it worse."

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐄   it   is   for   him   to   feel   pain.   not   to   say   that   it   never   happens   —   on   seldom   occasions,   after   a   particularly   bad   crash   or   a   specially   heinous   dislocation   —   but   that,   when   it   does,   it   has   effort   behind   it.   yes,   the   world   must   work   to   make   achilles   feel   pain.   it   must   work   to   remind   him   of   hot   stoves   &&   things   that   attempt   to   stick   into   his   palms   when   he   reaches   out   to   them;   it   must   work   to   remind   him   of   blistering   heat   or   frost-weaving   cold;   the   world   must   put   effort   into   making   the   greatest   of   the   greeks   feel   pain.    case   &&   point:   goddamn   motherfucking   ow.    he   pries   himself   up   from   the   crumpled   wooden   mess   beneath   him.   he   thinks   it   was   probably   a   shack   before   he   got   thrown   into   it.   not   a   very   big   one,   mind,   &&   likely   not   spacious   enough   to   fit   any   more   than   a   single   person   at   a   time…   a   hunting   shack,   achilles   decides,   it   must   have   been   a   hunting   shack.   that   explains   the   arrows   sticking   into   his   back.   that   also   explains   why   the   work   bench   inside   of   it   nearly   snapped   his   spine   upon   his   rapid   collision   with   it:   on   the   moment   of   impact,   achilles   swore   the   back   of   his   head   touched   the   top   of   the   table,   &&   the   end   of   his   heel   struck   the   bottom.    his   ears   ring.   he’s   upright   but   unsteady;   it   takes   him   a   moment   to   remember   how   to   sit   up   straight,   &&   a   moment   more   to   hear   properly   again.   somewhere   beneath   the   arduous   ringing   is   a   statement   about   how   he’s   just   making   something   harder.   the   idea   drags   a   bark   like   a   laugh   out   from   the   back   of   his   throat.    he’s   alive.   sore.   definitely   making   things   harder   for   everyone   involved,   to   say   nothing   of   the   specter   nearby,   but   alive.   &&   best   of   yet:   his   heart   is   pumping.   

he   brushes   himself   off.   he   shakes   his   right   arm   &&   winces   at   the   soreness   between   the   joints.   this   is   what   he   gets   for   trying   to   fight   for   days   at   a   time.   this   is   what   he   gets   for   going   on   the   world’s   bloodiest   &&   most   self-destructive   bender.   no   booze.   no   wine.   only   broken   bones,   monster   carcasses,   &&   moments   wherein   his   soul   briefly   dips   back   down   to   tell   hades   “hello,   i’ve   done   fucked   up.”    his   gaze   darts   to   the   voice   nearby.   foolish   of   him   to   think   that   the   woods   would   be   a   silent   place.   messengers   always   have   something   to   say.   he   rolls   his   shoulder   and,   with   a   flourish,   extends   the   great   shield   forged   by   the   gods   ‘round   his   arm.   the   spear   is   elsewhere,   no   doubt   lodged   in   a   tree   &&   coated   in   viscera.   he’ll   find   the   beastly   corpse   near   it.   if   he’s   especially   lucky,   he’ll   find   scavengers   already   picking   at   it.    achilles   cracks   his   neck.   he   reaches   up   with   his   free   hand   &&   ghosts   his   palm   against   his   nape.   even   there   is   sore.   huh.    ❝   i’m   still   breathing,   aren’t   ??   ❞   he   snorts.   ❝   i’m   making   shit   harder   ‘cause   easy   fights   are   boring   lately.   did   i   tell   you   about   the   chimera   last   week   ??   it   basically   rolled   over   on   its   belly   for   me.   besides,   ❞   he   raises   his   shield   as   if   it   resolves   all   concerns,   ❝   i   can’t   die.   a   little   soreness   won’t   do   me   in.   at   least   it’s   something.   ❞      

tension starters ( accepting )

[troyfallen]

— 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐖, 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒. 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇.

𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦, && 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 interpretation of 𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐒 of greek myth. informed && inspired by mozley's translation of the achilleid, robert fagles translation of the iliad, and homer's the odyssey. as loved by tally (25, he/him). art credit.

a study the effects of rage; divine weaponization; the love a sword has for the body which it does destroy; what ruthlessness makes of men.

[troyfallen]

𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 ( @unseencne ) said, "I’m not playing games here."

𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐒 sucks   an   unneeded   breath   in   through   clenched   teeth   &&   jerks   his   eyes   away   from   the   god,   indecisive   pools   of   blue-green   finding   a   better   resting   spot   amid   the   underworld’s   decor.   it’s   all   he   can   do   to   not   mutter   a   curse   in   the   presence   of   he   who   hears   all.     do   not   mistake   him:   he   would   curse   in   the   face   of   any   god,   he   would   remind   them   of   their   mortality…   if   he   did   not,   in   some   warped   &&   horrid   way,   indeed   enjoy   the   privileges   he’s   been   granted.   if   he   truly   did   not   want   to   exist   anymore,   oh,   he   would   rip   the   gods   asunder   with   his   words.   alas,   they   would   either   kill   him   or   find   a   manner   to   appease   him,   or   find   a   way   to   cultivate   longing   within   him   so   bastardized   that   it   tears   him   apart.   they   would   not   so   easily   lose   hold   of   their   dog’s   leash,   nor   would   the   dog   let   them   relinquish   the   lead   so   easily. he   waits.   lets   the   god’s   words   hang   in   the   air.   only   when   a   pregnant   pause   has   passed   between   them   do   achilles   eyes   return   to   hades,   their   glare   betraying   his   rising   frustration. ❝   i   never   said   you   were,   lord   hades,   ❞   begins   the   phantom,   voice   ripe   with   something   torn   between   indifference   &&   faint   frustration.   ❝   if   my   words   offend   you   so,   we   can   strike   them   from   the   record.   i   merely   meant   to   offer   input   on   the   matter.   ❞   another   beat.   he   rolls   the   words   around   in   his   mouth,   considers   saying   them,   then   relents   &&   says   nothing more.https://www.tumblr.com/troyfallen/804281712026746880

tension starters ( accepting )

[gloomglimmer]

›       TENSION   LINER   PROMPTS     

"I   dare   you   to   try."

"Do   you   always   get   close?"

"You’re   pushing   my   limits."

"Stop   looking   at   me   like   that."

"I’m   losing   control   here."

"You   have   no   idea,   do   you?"

"I   can’t   resist   you   anymore."

"Stay   back,   or   don’t."

"I   know   what   you   want."

"This   is   getting   dangerous   now."

"You’re   too   tempting   for   me."

"I   shouldn’t   want   this,   but…"

"I   don’t   play   fair,   remember?"

"Careful,   you’re   testing   me."

"You’re   just   making   it   worse."

"You’re   too   close   for   comfort."

"Do   you   always   push   buttons?"

"Stop   before   I   kiss   you."

"You’re   making   it   too   hard."

"I   can’t   stop   thinking   about   you."

"I   want   you   too   much."

"You   know   exactly   what   you’re   doing."

"I’m   not   playing   games   here."

"You’ve   crossed   the   line   now."

"Keep   pushing,   and   you’ll   regret   it."

"This   is   dangerous,   isn’t   it?"

"I’m   trying   not   to   care."

"Don’t   make   me   regret   this."

"You’re   playing   with   fire."

"You   don’t   know   what’s   coming."

"I   shouldn’t   be   this   close."

"We’re   getting   dangerously   close   now."

"I   can   feel   the   heat."

"Don’t   test   me   right   now."

"I   want   you   too   badly."

"Don’t   make   me   chase   you."

"You’re   distracting   me,   you   know."

"I   won’t   fall   for   this."

"I   want   you,   but…"

"What   do   you   want   from   me?"

"I’ll   never   give   in."

"I’m   trying   not   to   care."

"You’re   playing   with   my   patience."

"Don’t   make   this   harder,   please."

"I   can’t   stop   this   feeling."

"I’m   already   in   too   deep."

"You   won’t   walk   away   unscathed."

"You’re   walking   a   fine   line."

"I’m   trying   to   stay   calm."

"What   are   you   doing   to   me?"

[troyfallen]

STARTER CALL. these will be pretty short, probably only a paragraph or so.

[troyfallen]

COLLECTIVE LORE ;; PJO VERSE.

ON KRONOS. it remains incredibly funny to me that achilles is, in personality at least, not entirely against kronos. not to say that he would betray the gods or act on it, but he sympathizes with the demigods that choose that side of the conflict. absentee parents, breaking rules when it serves their purposes, asking their children to do horrible and incredible things - he gets it. he was eighteen at troy, he knows what that's about. hell, achilles had a prophecy himself back then !! he understands. that being said, achilles is also an example of returning to the system that caused harm. he needs to be needed. he needs to have an outlet for his violence, and the gods are very good at pointing and assigning him things to get rid of with lethal efficiency. he's an example of believing that things should change, but not for him, and not in a way that would dismantle the safety net of barbed wire he's made for himself. change for thee, not for me. ON MONSTERS. and a secondary piece of lore for the verse: achilles reeks of death. monsters tend to avoid him like the plague because, quite frankly, he radiates danger. he is a walking and talking neon sign that reads 'BITE ME AND DIE' in neon red letters. that being said, some will still attack him if he gets close to their territory (or, alternatively, too close to a demigod they want to devour) - and, well, at that point, no mercy to the poor beasts. it isn't uncommon for satyrs or other sensitive creatures to mistake his arrival for that of a monster straight from tartarus. he's a nightmare. a goddamn nightmare. ON DEMIGODS. despite his harshness (and, at times, downright antagonistic attitude) towards divine children, achilles wants demigods to survive. he wants them to live good lives. he grieves each of them, though he never shows it and seldom speaks of them once they're gone. he wants them to live long - which is exactly why he is so much of an asshole to them at times. they need to understand that the world will not be kind to them just because they exist. that kindness does not always earn you kindness in response. that the gods might not care if they cry.