god only helps those who learn to help themselves
06-04-2014, 11:23 AM
OOC. Putting this shortly after Hermes' death, as a potential death thread is already in progress.
If the man was learning anything right now it was that the world kept right on turning, no matter how much you wished it might stop. He wanted to rest, he wanted a break to breath, to grieve. His son was well and truly gone from him, never to return. The image of him, no breath to move his sides, no life to fill his gaze anymore? His own child, a boy he had held tight on nights when the nightmares had set in, a boy he had watched grow and flourish, a boy that had been a blessing upon his life, and suddenly he was gone.
Helios had not believed the sickness to be a curse; the gods would not punish them so surely? now he wasn?t so sure. Hermes who had done nothing but their work, who had been loyal and shown great fealty to the gods had been claimed by their cruel game? His faith was shaken, something he had never imagined could happen.
The world kept moving.
A howl reached him through the fog of his grief, echoing over the lands and for a moment he thought he would ignore it, didn?t he deserve a rest? But of course he had to answer, he had to do whatever he could to try and earn back the gods? favor before they decided to take anyone else. The man gently nuzzled his mate, and plodded dutifully from his den. There was little pride in his stance as he loped from the valley towards the plains, dead as they were in the middle of winter.
There was a figure at their borders and with some effort he adopted a position of authority, shoulders rolling back, tail raising and head high. His fur was ruffled though, bags under his eyes as he had not slept much at all lately. "Greetings stranger." He managed, voice wavering before he got control over it. "What brings you to Olympus?" It felt too cheerful, surreal.
"Speech"
If the man was learning anything right now it was that the world kept right on turning, no matter how much you wished it might stop. He wanted to rest, he wanted a break to breath, to grieve. His son was well and truly gone from him, never to return. The image of him, no breath to move his sides, no life to fill his gaze anymore? His own child, a boy he had held tight on nights when the nightmares had set in, a boy he had watched grow and flourish, a boy that had been a blessing upon his life, and suddenly he was gone.
Helios had not believed the sickness to be a curse; the gods would not punish them so surely? now he wasn?t so sure. Hermes who had done nothing but their work, who had been loyal and shown great fealty to the gods had been claimed by their cruel game? His faith was shaken, something he had never imagined could happen.
The world kept moving.
A howl reached him through the fog of his grief, echoing over the lands and for a moment he thought he would ignore it, didn?t he deserve a rest? But of course he had to answer, he had to do whatever he could to try and earn back the gods? favor before they decided to take anyone else. The man gently nuzzled his mate, and plodded dutifully from his den. There was little pride in his stance as he loped from the valley towards the plains, dead as they were in the middle of winter.
There was a figure at their borders and with some effort he adopted a position of authority, shoulders rolling back, tail raising and head high. His fur was ruffled though, bags under his eyes as he had not slept much at all lately. "Greetings stranger." He managed, voice wavering before he got control over it. "What brings you to Olympus?" It felt too cheerful, surreal.
"Speech"
