ooc; short starter, sorry!

                    velveteen lips flutter with unbridled mirth as the deity regards her only son with a diligent gaze, infiltrating the cavern’s interior with easy, elongated strides and into his immediate proximities. a contented smirk worms its way upon her countenance as her prying pupils commence in the vigorous scrutiny of his infantile physique, ensuring that she receives every angle of his minuscule form as she sluggishly encircles him -- like a brooding predator observing its prey. yet her intentions are far from malevolent, and, having cast her judgment, she gives willing pause in her saunter before fixing the babe with a stare so glacial. “you are ready,” the elysius proclaims with the proud incline of her chin, gesturing minutely towards their chambers’ entrance as if to beckon him beyond the threshold and into a world for the taking -- for their taking.

TABLE BY ARGENT / NEFFS

His life had been short, boring, completely sheltered from the world until this moment. His mother would stalk towards him, her predatory movements something he was more than accustomed to. His silver eyes tipped up towards her porcelain face, watching her with eager anticipation. Her glacial look did not disarm him as it would many, he had grown up around this woman, she was his mother, she would not harm him. Not yet at least. She would circle him, as his neck would strain to follow her movements, his tail thumping against the ground. He would remain silent until she spoke, when a grin would stretch his ebony lips. Without a second thought, he was on his feet, legs stretching clumsily as he scrambled from the den and into the world. The sun was bright, overwhelmingly so. His eyes would squint. Several things shocked him as once. The bright sun on his face. The chilly substance that his paws sank into. He would jump, hopping around uselessly in an attempt to avoid the frigid ground. His senses were overwhelmed as foreign smells filled his nostrils and noises assaulted his ears. There was so much! And he was to experience it alone. The memory was vague, but he knew he had a brother. He had not been alone when his eyes had opened to reveal the blurry world. But now his brother was gone. He remembered cries, and a strange smell that made his tummy hurt, and then it was quiet, his mother and brother gone, leaving him entirely alone. Mama! Where is my brother? His words were not yet fully formed, sounding sweetly incoherent like any child. speech

                    she traipses after the budding titan with a covetous glower to her celestial gaze, apathy reigning supreme over her lacerated countenance despite the pride swelling within her inflated breast. and she halts in her saunter as she breaches the threshold of their cavern, allowing for her pupils to survey their eerie surroundings in an attempt to pinpoint any who dare hold malevolent intentions to her kin before fixating her stare upon the boy -- contemplatively. her scrutiny is inevitable and, as she reclines upon robust thighs, the ghost of a simper begins to contort her porcelain features as she observes her bounding son with wry amusement. his infantile naivety is enrapturing and becoming of a babe his age; however, the fledgling mother knows it is only a matter of time before she shatters it with the cruel knowledge of life.

but it becomes obvious to the tyrant that that time would come sooner than later, and a wave of contempt sears through her interior as she registers her son’s prying inquiry. she retains a characteristically stoic composure as she permits the momentary silence that proceeds the boy’s question whilst pondering over whether or not to break his innocence so soon, quirking a brow with uncertainty. “dead,” is the barbaric declaration that seeps from the elysius’ unhinged jaws, laden in cruel apathy as her pupils bore into her son’s own, having breached a crucial decision. “gone forever -- an eternal sleep,” she elaborates, educating him upon their own mortality as if discussing trivial matters. and her tail flicks minutely in an attempt to lure him back into her close quarters, her skull tipping downward until it is nearly level with his own. “he was too weak to bear our name, my little titan; mourn him not,” she advises with hushed tones, relying upon his youthful susceptibility to morph him into indifference -- just as she had been long ago.

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He would continue his romping under the watchful eye of his mother. He had not a care in the world, nor a reason to worry, he had experience the cruelty the universe possessed, that his mother possessed. It wasnt until she spoke that he would still, his movements ceasing so that he could peer up at his mother. Dead. His brother was dead. His brows would furrow, not quite yet able to grasp what it mean. An eternal sleep. He was gone forever. It was confusing to him. He knew what sleep was. He knew what gone meant. But how long was forever? His mother beckoned him closer and he would obey without a second though, finding himself pressed into her side, wide eyes peering up at her. Her next words were soft, though gave him even more to ponder. His brother was weak? He hadn't thought so. But mother knew best. Right? With a frown still pulling at features he would finally speak. So when is he coming back? His innocence shone brightly through such a brief question. His mothers actions were lost on him, just as the gravity of what had happened to his brother. What does m-m-mooournnn mean? The word fell clumsily off his tongue as he struggled to say it correctly, peering up at him mother with a wide, goofy grin. His tail thumped against the earth, quieting though as he awaited his mother to answer the first of many questions. speech

                    she permits his close contact despite her own preference for personal space, allowing for the warmth of his dark flesh to radiate unto her own as the little titan slopes languidly against her abdomen. and her celestial gaze softens briefly as it unites with the metallic silver of her son’s { so reminiscent of her mother’s, of his slain grandmother’s! } that preserves every ounce of his naivety; the innocence that she would soon vanquish with brutal instruction. and a muted sigh gapes the deity’s murderous jaws as the child fails to grasp the harrowing concept of death, a stern expression beginning to contort her abhorrent features as her impatience internally festers. “he won’t be,” is the callous oath that writhes from velveteen lips, mismatched gaze briefly vacating the premises of her son’s unsullied countenance to drift in the direction of his brother’s watery grave -- remorselessly.

“but that does not mean you are alone, odysseus,” the tyrant vows, tacitly admitting to her own unwillingness to depart from her only named kin { and perhaps retaining the possessiveness she had experienced with ares, with codeine, and now with fiamette }. and her attention reverts to the babe as he struggles to comprehend and enunciate, her own countenance retaining its characteristically stark indifference despite the amusement of this current spectacle. “to mourn means to cry, to be saddened,” she elaborates, her tone evidently harboring a touch of disdain on the very matter { for she must teach him the art of apathy! of emotional strength }. “-- but if you must mourn, mourn quietly and mourn discreetly, so that none may know of your sadness. for all of us mourn; but only the strong do not show it.” for even the deity had lamented in times of woe, but they had only hardened her flesh from p o r c e l a i n to STEEL.

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The stoic expression that graces his mother face is not one that he is unfamiliar with, he sees it everyday, rarely being blessed by anything else. Her callous words still him, understanding finally beginning to take root. His brother was dead. He was never coming back. His frown lingered, silver eyes welling up with unshed tears, though he dared not let them spill. His mothers voice was the only solace he found, knowing that he would not be alone. He had his mother, and Fia, that he knew. But he had no siblings, no brother to grow up with any longer. He would blink rapidly, wishing away the tears that he knew would undoubtedly upset his mother. His gaze would fall to his paws, brows furrowing deeply. The definition of the word he sought would fill his ears and commit to his brain. He was allowed to mourn, to be sad for the loss of his brother. But he couldn't show it. Such a display of emotions would not be welcomed by his mother. He was to be strong. And according to his mother, the strongest did not display their emotions so evidently. But why? He didn't understand. Though nevertheless he would return his silver gaze to his mothers mismatched one. A sort of resolved form. He had batted away his tears, though the loss still weighed heavily upon him. I will be strong mama. He would vow, his words shaky, though they held meaning. He wanted nothing more than to please his mother, than to earn her praises. And to do that, he must forget about his brother, for his brother was weak and didn't make his mama happy. It was like a lightbulb. His brother had been weak and displeased their mother. The realization would slip across his face as he stared up at his mother. speech