open post - winter 2021-22

[quixotiques]

Open RP



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but he fell in love with a beautiful woman

[agetes]

for demspotina

[ there is nothing in the underworld that truly passes for day or night. the gloom is omnipresent: a hazy fog in place of what would otherwise be a sky, lighting everything enough to be visible and not strain the eyes, but little more. it suits hades well - it is practical, and has little variance to concern himself with. but hades is a man (god) of rules, and he enjoys his routines. so when the clock strikes half past five in the ‘evening,’ the gates to the underworld shut, blocking off what little, true light there is.

he has a routine. cerberus is let out of the guard-house, able to roam and run as he pleases. hades himself takes a walk down near the river styx, ensuring that there are no stragglers to be dealt with. if charon needs a question answered, he stops to talk. (not to chat, he’s not so much a chatting guy). and then he returns home to dine in private, and to occupy himself before bed.

it is a modest, diligent life. some might call it impersonal; they’d be right. but between him and his brothers, one of them must understand responsibility.

and yet -

it’s when he crosses through the courtyard on his way back from styx that he realizes something is amiss. it’s a barren place: some shrubs and bushes; a few haggard trees; a fountain that’s been dry as long as he’s been there; statues that have been worn down for longer.

he stops and stares at the woman - flesh and blood, not the wisps and spirits that reside down there. ] Lady Persephone.

[ manners come first. he remembers enough to bow his head in greeting, but he can’t help but blurt out: ]

What are you doing here?

reverse back to the future

[spectacularing]

for gwenzelle

[ when gwen wakes up, it’ll be in a bed. good sign for her! somebody also took off her mask, which, well, bad sign! can’t win them all, huh?

it’s a nice room. sleek walls, big window with a set of mechanical blinds, currently closed. plush carpeting, some really funky impressionist artwork on one wall that, after a moment, flickers to another painting, something a lot more modern. two doors - one fully open to show a bathroom, the other open just a crack.

and sitting at a folding card table shoved into the corner, in a chair that’s clearly been repurposed from whatever dining room this apartment has, a woman’s bent over, poking at the goober with a soldering iron. she doesn’t notice gwen wake up immediately, but when the lights start to brighten, she snaps her gaze up. ]

Gwen! [ her movement is fast, fast enough that she’s definitely not a baseline human. soldering iron turned off, tossed back into its case without looking; a smooth jump up and over the back of her chair; cross the room in two steps to the side of the bed. ]

You feeling alright, blondie?

what if we were dare devils and we cuddled

[battleshipping]