Apollo

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.

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?"

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?"

"Αυτό είναι μεγάλος αντέξτε."

It was devastatingly cold where she had taken him, a place where even the Sun's light, while bright as ever, could not warm the dead, thick ice that covered the earth beneath their feet. It was already dawn; soon, the uncaring Sun would show his light upon the barren waste, and remain a constant for the following twenty-four hours -- this was Hyacinthus' time limit. Within that time, he was to locate and retrieve an amber pendant from the half-sunken steam barkentine and return said treasure to Hera, before the sun set.

The task itself was easier said than done, for the ship could just barely be seen on the horizon to the west, the darkest point from which they stood. Where the ice thinned, dark, looming masses could be seen, the only sign of life in this desolate place outside of themselves.

Then, as if night had been nothing but a fleeting fancy, light burst forth from the east, reflecting blindingly off the endless expanses of ice surrounding Hera and Hyacinth -- it was time.

"Καλή τύχη, υάκινθος."

And she was gone, to fetch the foolish lover of this brave boy.

(OOC notes: The Arctic circle, named for its correspondence with the southernmost point of the constellation Ursa Major -- Megale Arktos, in Greek, is where the task is taking place. On the summer and winter solstices each year, a phenomenon known as arctic day / night occurs. Since the summer solstice is of our concern, I will explain "arctic day": there is non-stop sunlight, for twenty-four hours straight. It is also referred to as "midnight sun". This is also the day I designated as Apollo's birthday, for those of you who have been following along with this particular plot.

The significance of the amber necklace is that when Leto, Apollo and Artemis' mother, was about to give birth to the twins, Hera attempted to kill Leto in childbirth, but was distracted from doing so by a necklace of amber beads, given to her by one of the other goddesses.

Lastly, the Greek is translated as follows: "This is Ursa Major" and "Good luck, Hyacinthus".

Enjoy the unfolding of this modern day Greek epic~ ♥)

"I cerytainly hope so."

( Ridiculously long opening post. )

(And don't worry, there's no pressure to reply, Norry! I was just bored and decided to type this up for whenever you're up to posting. :d And I'll get to our other RL soon. XD;)

It was hot.

Really hot.

Which was strange, because Apollo distinctly remembered going to sleep in Austria the night before, exhausted from a full day of trying not only to help Horus regain some semblance of his previous strength, but from trying to convince the bird to stop being so damned pessimistic about the whole process. Apollo had gotten visibly annoyed with Horus, which had only upset the Egyptian more. Damnit.

Oh well, there were more pressing matters at hand. Such as, where in Zeus' name was he?

Apollo grunted and propped himself up on an elbow, reaching to rub his eyes with the other hand. His wrist caught on something and dropped down and for the first time, the sun god noticed a heavy, cast-iron shackle fastened securely to his arm. Squinting against the sun, he followed the chain to the other end.

"Oh, fuck." He hadn't meant to utter it aloud, but then again, he hadn't expected to be handcuffed to Ares. Thankfully, his older brother seemed distracted, sitting cross-legged on the sand and poking at scorpions with a stick. The arm connected to Apollo's was extended, draping carelessly over his knee, as though waiting for a sign that the younger god was awake.

"Ares," Apollo tugged once, keeping his voice low, so as not to startle him. "Ares, where the hell are we, why am I handcuffed to you, and why the hell are we naked?"

Listen, Eros... I'm tired of arguing over all of this, especially over the internet like a couple of children.

I've... baked you some cookies to make it up to you, so, ah... I'm coming down to Africa.

Angry shouts of German rang through the air, the tromping of boots keeping cadence as the tinkling of glass and the terrified gasps of homeowners burst forth with almost musical precision. Apollo appeared in a dark alley, just beyond Edward's house and peered into the street, empty save for refuse and bullet shells.

A group of soldiers marched past, each claiming a doorway for his own and demanding entrance, their voices coarse and loud, demanding any Jews present to give themselves up.

Apollo slid out from his hiding spot and joined the end of the line, inconspicuous in a Nazi uniform identical to the rest. They took no notice of him, and miraculously left the alchemist's shop alone, leaving the sun god to give his best performance as a German extremist.

He marched to the door and pounded a heavy fist on the wood and yelled, "He! Herausgekommen, Alchemist!" The god's accent was poor, but he figured if he yelled angrily enough, it would be passable. "Wir wissen, daß Sie innen dort sind!"

(This is backdated to the weekend. German, through Babel Fish, says, "Hey! Come out, alchemist!" and "We know you're in there!". I don't know German, so this is the best I can do. XD

Oh, and the order? Apollo, then Alphonse, then Edward.)

Beyond the greenhouses stood the sun god, clothed in warm robes akin to this secret world within a world. The greenhouses themselves didn't have any snow at all (perhaps from magic, or simply from the basic physics of greenhouses), but where Apollo stood, it was thick and glittering and hatefully cold. He watched the students mill about the greenhouse, unearthing strange plants of all sorts, some emitting green or purple sparks when handled incorrectly. Even if they had been able to see the god standing out they probably wouldn't have noticed, as it seemed one plant's distemperment sparked the rest to react in a similar fashion, making the greenhouse erupt in fireworks and screams of students.

Truly, this world was a delightful one, and as a (rather closeted) fan of the Harry Potter series, Apollo was quite intrigued, despite having to stand knee-deep in the snow outside. Of course, the god's internal body temperature was quite so high that he actually was melting the snow around him - but he was still slightly upset with the weather. Stupid cold Scotland.