Apollo

YOU GUYS.

I totally saw Apollo a week ago.

Where? The Crocker Art Museum in Sacramento, CA.



I was only remotely excited about this discovery, let me tell you.

( +1, though it's irrelevant to DDD; I just like this shot of me. )

Broken, bloody, burned and battered, Apollo had taken counsel with the Titans trapped far beneath the Earth-- his blindness granted him bravery to confront the giants of primordial time; even they were struck by the former Sun God's boldness in demanding the whereabouts of the parents of the usurper, Helios.

It was ironic to say the least that they should dwell so very close to home-- the Titans knew not the new names nor the new cities that had been built up and torn down hundreds upon thousands of times since their imprisonment, but they seemed to be in agreement that the place for Apollo to look first was a spring that bubbled very near to Zancle, these days known as Messina.

So, Italy it was-- Apollo and Hyacinthus fought their way out of Tartarus and the Underworld both, daring not to look back for fear of the loss of the other. They rested little, determined to cut short this sentence of near-mortality; to the winding streets of Messina in search of the innocent Titans-- it was a place of dizzying modernity bound with Gothic architecture honoring saints and the God of the last two thousand years.

And yet, in the Cathedral square, stood a fountain dedicated to one of the most cherished of Greek heroes: Orion. It was some sort of cruel joke, really-- Apollo had so despised him for coveting his sister and yet, Zeus had placed him amongst the stars.

However, what was so very stunning about this place was not the juxtaposition of cultures nor the sardonic monument, but a fair woman seated on the edge of the fountain, waiting. The light reflecting off the water seemed to make her skin sparkle; or perhaps it was the other way around-- she saw the beautiful Spartan prince lead his blinded companion toward her and sat, quiet and pensive, waiting to be noticed. Her son had taken of that which he did not deserve-- and now, she and Hyperion would be the ones to right his wrongs.

For she was Theia, the far-shining Titaness of sight and glory.

Now that I have your attention, I'd like to direct it toward a delightful and inspirational movie us mortals refer to as Mamma Mia!-- and, Apollo's favorite movie of 2008. I rewatched it tonight and noticed something I almost forgot.

( A Greek Cameo from The Credits! )

Uh, I promise I'll continue the blindness plot soon. This movie inspired me like crazy, hahaha.

Υάκινθος.

Θα με οδηγήσετε κάτω σε Τάρταρος.

Πρέπει να πάμε σε λίμνη.

"Hyacinthus.

You will lead me down to Tartarus.

We must go to Avernus."

LOL WHY IS IT THAT I HAVE SO MANY COMMENTS THIS IS RIDICULOUS

( Who comments the most on this journal? )

[While Apollo's voice sounds less defeated than it did before, it still carries that weight of dead, dark monotony.]

I have been told of your well-wishes, my friends, and I appreciate them... I apologize, for having left you on such short notice. As I told you before, what has happened is complicated and I am not... at liberty to divulge entirely what has happened to me.

I apologize.

[A pause; some background noise]

If you... wish to hold audience with me, please inform first his Highness, the Emperor Larsa Ferrinas Solidor for permission, as I am in his care.

Thank you, again, for your concern.

(Please, if you want Apollo to reply, make sure that your character replies via voice, so he can hear it!

As for who can see this, you should know who you are-- the lock is hackable, but not easily. Remember that.)

Apollo's vacation had been going well-- he and Hyacinthus had taken advantage of the boy's holiday from school and took time to relax on Olympus; they traveled here and there, but never for too long; they hunted, they watched movies, delighted in each other; all in all, it was a welcome respite from the stress of the community's needs.

Unfortunately, it wasn't to last.

They had gone to sleep in the spacious bedroom of Apollo's crystal mansion on Olympus, wrapped in layers of blankets soft and supple, resting more so on hundreds of pillows than on the bed itself-- however, when the Sun God awoke the following morning, there was something wrong.

Something very, very wrong.

It was dark. And not the darkness of the night; Apollo had always taken comfort in the soft, calming light of the Moon and the constellations-- this was a Darkness deeper than the furthest reaches of Tartarus. Apollo sat up, untangling himself from unfamiliar blankets-- this, this was not Olympus. What was worse, not only was it dark, but it was cold. Cold. Cold. He whipped around, feeling his hair brush his cheek, hearing the birds singing in the morning sunsh-- no. No, no no no no no. Panicked, Apollo tumbled out of bed, falling heavily and painfully on one knee-- he wrenched the sheet from around his ankle, willing the pain in his knee away.

Except, it did not heal. It throbbed angrily and bitterly, and Apollo slowly, groping for the bed and anything around for leverage (there was a crash, there went the damned lamp). He couldn't-- wouldn't move from where he was, feeling a sick, sick sense of dread in his stomach.

"Hyacinthus! Hyacinthus!"

The recent influx of injuries that have befallen the members of our little community are nothing less than concerning -- I, of course, help as much as I can, but... I have found in doing so, in neglecting the problems of our own world and instead helping people of others, that my other patronages have grown faulty. Out of practice, if you will.

I know not the meaning of this, but it is extremely foreboding. My visions tell me nothing, instead, they are as though someone is switching a television from one channel to the next in my mind, granting me mere snippets of voice or picture; more often than not, it is completely blank. I do not ask that you imagine what it is like for he who is Light to experience Darkness, but let me tell you only this -- I am glad when it is over.

I do hope this passes quickly.

Hyacinthus~

I've selected our costumes for the Masquerade Ball tomorrow evening!

Apollo appeared in the Underworld, shimmering and absolutely radiating in heat -- if he had been attempting to be inconspicuous, he failed miserably. Charon had given a laugh at the sight as he paddled along Styx, knowing the child-king had clearly done something to attract his oh-so-bright nephew down to the depths.

He tossed a pair of coins to the laughing boatman and alighted at the center of the Underworld, each step burning into the icy ground as he approached Hades' palace.

"Uncle!" he shouted, searching the dark windows for any sign of life, "Uncle, where are you?"

My, weren't the Olympics just... something else? It never fails to impress me, the absolute camaraderie countries manage to pull when put into a worldwide competition such as this; it is refreshing to see humanity proud of their physical accomplishments... it has been a long time since I have seen such sincerity in their pride. I miss that.

Mankind has come to consider themselves utterly indestructible and live for immediate gratification, and it is absolutely... mind blowing, for them, to see these athletes who have spent their entire lives for but a few moments in the spotlight. And, when they are injured, it is cause for the utmost despair -- how could this happen to our Olympians? These people, whom we have come to regard as Gods in their own right, they cannot get hurt, not at the pinnacle of their careers! It is refreshing, to say the least.

[Locked to Eros]

...Eros, who is the blonde young man I have seen about the house? And... forgive me, but-- are there two Blackouts? The former seems particularly skittish, I caught him rummaging through my collection of bows and he near had a fit, apologizing. He bowed out too quickly for me to tell him that I would mind it not if he were to borrow a couple.

My characters, as of August 18, 2008, are as follows:

☼ Apollo (sine_sole_sileo)

§ Shuraiya Bascùd (shovel_sick)

→ Robin Hood (for_britain)

If you have any questions, comments, critiques, complaints, requests... anything, having to do with how I play my characters, please leave a comment here.

I apologize in advance for not allowing anonymous commenting, but I have had problems in the past with being hassled by people who used anonymity to be cruel.

Anyway, have at it~

Y-yeah, I'm hopping on the bandwagon as well. It seemed like fun! Please, feel free to ask anything you like. :)

I list the characters I play with their journals. You ask questions, on your IC journal or OOC journal, it doesn't matter. They answer IC. Okay? Okay. It can be about their username, what their favorite food is...whatever your mind can come up with.

My characters:

☼ Apollo (sine_sole_sileo)

§ Shuraiya (shovel_sick)

→ Robin (for_britain)

The day dawned as the rest of them had during the run of the Olympics -- crisp and clear, the air absolutely abuzz with energy. The open curtains of the hotel room's large window exposed slats of golden light across the carpeted floor, prime for a certain god-turned-cat to roll over and bare his belly to warm in the light. As he rolled, his whiskers brushed against the unfamiliar plush carpet, its smell foreign and most definitely not his.

Apollo sat up abruptly, meowing in surprise -- where was he? This wasn't home! He got to his feet, meowing intermittently as he cautiously padded across the room, desperately looking for anything familiar. Hyacinth's duffel bag lay at the foot of the large bed where the boy slept -- Apollo was drawn to it immediately and purred, rubbing happily against it. Hyacinthus was here! But where? Where could he be, why did he bring him here? Apollo cried out hopefully, maybe he would hea-- what was that? The form on the bed shifted, exposing a shock of messy blonde hair. Hyacinthus! Elated, the orange tabby hopped onto the bed, mrriiaoo-ing as he slipped on the comforter, stopping here and there to rub at a knee, a hand. He was so happy! Hyacinth hadn't left him somewhere! But what was this new place? He still didn't know, but he would have to wake the boy, maybe he'd tell him.

One of Hyacinth's legs had kicked out from under the blankets, creating a tent of sorts and Apollo slipped underneath, still purring as he crawled, nuzzling the curve of his exposed belly and upwards until he reached his face. "Mreh!" Apollo announced, head tilting to brush the underside of the boy's chin, his purr deeper now. He pawed at his cheek, hoping it would wake him. When it didn't work, Apollo tried telling him to get up.

"Mreh mehh, mrraaa. Rrrhh?"

I finally got on the band wagon and set up and AIM account for Apollo, so~

Feel free to IM him at Apollo Vindonnus~ He'll be happy to chat!

Oh, gods.

( [Not Cut IC//NSFW] )

It was a pity Apollo had not bothered to leave well enough alone; if he had any sense left in him, he ought to have stayed in Chile and comforted Eros, it probably would have done him -- no, all of them -- more good than coming to Blacko-- Mikaela's world and wandering about the desert of Nevada. At the very least, he had Chrysilla to accompany him, she had landed on his shoulder and wound her tail around his neck with such determination that he could not deny her.

Speaking of Nevada, gods, was it ever dry and bleak; he was reminded of a drastically warmer version of the Arctic Circle and involuntarily shivered -- at least, this task would not be so trying on the body so much as the mind and the heart. It was a fool's errand, was it not? He kicked a stone, sending it skidding down into a dried out ravine and clattering to rest there. Maybe he should leave, and pretend he couldn't find Blackout, say he possibly returned to wherever it was he came from, and console his dear nephew.

It occurred to him suddenly that Blackout would most definitely be in his robot form, either as a helicopter or... whatever he truly was, Apollo didn't know. He had only seen him as the former, when they descended into Tartarus, and even then, the Decepticon's sheer firepower was a force to be reckoned with. His human form was easily subdued, but a millions of years old war machine? If worse came to worse, he would have to forcibly transform Blackout and take him home biting and screaming.

Well, hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

I suppose... it is to be expected.

Longevity was never in the equation.

Yes, I believe today would be a lovely day for the beach. ♥

Perhaps a nude beach, I have not been to one of those in ages.

(Gods can read the strikeout.)

Somehow, it has seemed to have slipped my mind completely to mention this, but -- I am happy to report that the regeneration of my arm has gone spectacularly.

Five fingers, thirty bones, and twenty-eight muscles later, I am now as complete as I was the day I was born. It is a curious thing, possessing something you lost once; you realize that it is a blessing and know not to take it granted.

That said, it is a pity that I lost the tattoo I once bore down the length of my forearm -- I will be replacing it soon enough.