CollusiveDreamer
New Member
A couple years back I applied to a group RP off-site that centered around the Olympian Gods, and part of the application was to prove I could write the gods well. One of the myths they offered as a prompt was the return of Persephone from the Underworld, and since Zeus is very hard to get right I figured it'd be a good way to show off. I was accepted, and then found out the group was inactive and basically dead and sadly I never got to write with them.
Returned, but changed.
Eyes like stars looked over ripped crags, a sorrow in their gaze. So much desolation.
The new rain caressed this blasted land, reminding it of the touch of water. How many fair vales and isles of the sea yet suffered? How many good and just people starved for the sake of his sister’s rage? This storm wouldn’t bring back vegetation. It wouldn’t revive starved children.
It would only soften the soil, just enough that a grieving parent’s shovel would prevail in cutting out a tiny grave.
A glance over his shoulder. She stood there, golden blood shining on her fingers. Her nails bit into her palms, as her face shone with a terrible smile, oblivious to the dripping ichor. So expectant. So eager. Demeter looked like a hound about to be fed, excepting the cruelty in her eyes. The goddess needed vengeance the way a dog needed food.
Zeus turned away from her, a tired grimace set on his face. This was going to be tricky.
“Come to me, my son.”
His command, just a murmur, shot through the sky and pierced every listening heart. There was a sound on the air, like an arrow whistling across a battlefield.
The arrow landed softly, wings on his sandals, curved sword at his hip. “I hear you, father.”
Even on this bleakest of days, the diligence of Zeus’ son brought a smile to the God of Justice. It ghosted across his countenance, before he simply uttered, “It is time.”
With a nod, the psychopomp rose from his kneeling posture to float into the air. In his hand was a serpent-twined rod, shining with harsh light. It split the crust of the Earth with its glow, as the wings at the lad’s ankles beat faster and faster. With the speed of the dawn’s breaking, Hermes shot into the crevice underneath him, his path sealing behind him as he flew.
Zeus let out a breath. He was away. He could only hope now that Hermes knew what to say, what to tell them. The hardest part would-
Whipping around, the King of the Gods caught a golden blade between his fingertips as it arced towards his throat. The force of the strike traveled up his arm, jarring him. Zeus answered Demeter’s furious snarl with a disappointed sigh. “This is exactly why no one told you.”
“HOW LONG HAVE YOU KNOWN?!” Her screeching was punctuated by the swing of her scythe. She yanked on the gilded haft, freeing the crescent blade’s tip from the grip of Zeus. It fell to rest on her shoulder, her body poised to swing again. “TELL ME!”
Glancing down at his hand, Demeter’s brother discovered a tiny bead of molten ichor forming on his thumb. She’d nicked him.
The last time his kin had attacked him with a blade of that make, the weapon had been three times the size. Adamantine, it had shone like the bow of the moon, glistening with the dried blood of the first Sky Father.
Blinking the memories away, Zeus’ soft tone buzzed with electricity. “Demeter. Your king can only forgive such an act once.”
This did little to quell her seething indignation, though she did not attack again. She only continued to breathe in ragged gasps, veil and hair both soaked by the rainstorm that raged still around the siblings. Her eyes promised pain. But she waited.
No turning back. He paused for a beat, to see if she really intended to listen. Then…
“Hades came to me, seeking to court her. I gave him my blessing. And I forbade him from approaching you over the matter.”
The wind rose to a howling gale as this betrayal set in. Strength seemed to flee Demeter’s arms, and her gilded scythe fell to the mud. She knelt as if to retrieve it, but then remained there on the sodden ground, her finger tracing the blade. Confusion, hurt, and naked despair were clear on her face. The wind had stripped her visage of its veil.
“Have your children ever been taken from you? Brother?”
There was no preamble to this query. Tired and worn, it escaped her lips. She did not look at him; she kept her eyes on her spattered golden reflection within her blade.
Zeus said nothing, for they knew both the answer to the question. More sat on her tongue, too hurt to escape. Gold dripped from her brother’s thumb. He could not see whether she was crying. There was too much rain.
“I know how you cherish Hermes. If I dragged him away, screaming and fighting, to cut him into tiny pieces with this tool, would you rage as I have? Or would you stand there, as you do now, a heartless callot, and just look at me?”
Ah. Now they got to it. Zeus took a step towards her, his head tilting in a question. “Interesting. I was there when Helios said Kore was taken. I don’t remember him saying she struggled.”
This awoke the hate in Demeter. She would not let this stand. Fighting to her feet, leaving her blade where it lay, she marched through the mire to shout in his face until her voice broke. “He is King Under All! Your elder brother! He has conquered titans and giants, so forgive my little flower if she could not fight back!”
Heaving breaths as she looked for a response. Indignation turned to confusion and anger as she saw the smug grin on her brother’s face. Finally, he had her.
“You know, you make an excellent point. Raised in a harmless valley, twittering nymphs as her only companions, never knowing the world beyond, how could she be expected to struggle against any captor?” The smile died, and he looked down on Demeter in judgment. “Tell me, what exactly does our daughter know of struggle?”
Fear. It gripped Demeter in a vice as implications fell down on her like drops from the sky. Glancing at the spot where his son had departed for the Underworld, Zeus sighed.
“You know the difference between Hermes and Kore? Hermes has killed giants, too. Hermes has stolen from his brothers and conspired against his stepmother and faced consequences for his actions. He’s been given the chance to learn. To become wise, become dangerous Demeter! Tell me. Is Kore dangerous?”
Like a woman possessed, she gripped Zeus by his sash, pulling her face to his. She spoke conspiratorially, in a furtive hiss.
“I’ll spare them all. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Your pets? I’ll bring bounty to the humans- even more. They will live in splendor not seen since the early days of our father’s reign. They’ll build towers to the sky, they’ll defeat disease and fly like we do! All that you’ve said they are capable of, I’ll see they reach it within the century. Just please, give her back to me.”
At this, Zeus put on a mocking face of puzzlement. “And here I thought you plagued humanity to punish me for my inaction.”
She was growing desperate now. “Punish my king? Never! I sought to punish them, obviously!”
“Punish them? For a crime they didn’t commit?” An incredulous chuckle escaped Zeus at this, and Demeter sensed she was not being believed. Frustrated, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“They began calling her Persephone!”
And now, the puzzlement was not mockery or playing. “The mortals call Kore ‘Bringer of Death’? When did this start?”
Aha! Triumph and hope sprung to uplift Demeter’s spirits. “Not long after I went searching for her. Only after talking with Helios did I understand. They’re already calling her his… queen.” She nearly choked on the word.
This curious news was not something Zeus was allowed time to mull over. An approaching rumble in the Earth became a deafening clash, as shattering stone opened a gateway to the realm of the dead. Hermes rose slowly into view, his magic wand alight. Behind him came the figure of a young woman.
She wore a dress as black as pitch, causing her sun-drained skin to almost glow like moonstone. Her hair was pinned with a simple ornament of platinum: a two-pronged fork. A few raven strands tossed about freely over one eye. Her feet were bare, and the only cosmetic on her face was a deep and dark red on her lips.
The same red as the fruit she carried in one hand. On her face was the look of a hoplite, bracing for the charge.
Zeus was suddenly reminded of a question he’d just asked Demeter. ‘Is Kore dangerous?’
Hermes ushered the young woman forward, fighting to keep his face neutral. But his father could see that the Messenger God was holding back a delighted smile.
Turning to look upon his speechless sister, Zeus gestured towards the Queen of the Underworld. “Why don’t we go and see which name our daughter answers to?”
Returned, but changed.
Eyes like stars looked over ripped crags, a sorrow in their gaze. So much desolation.
The new rain caressed this blasted land, reminding it of the touch of water. How many fair vales and isles of the sea yet suffered? How many good and just people starved for the sake of his sister’s rage? This storm wouldn’t bring back vegetation. It wouldn’t revive starved children.
It would only soften the soil, just enough that a grieving parent’s shovel would prevail in cutting out a tiny grave.
A glance over his shoulder. She stood there, golden blood shining on her fingers. Her nails bit into her palms, as her face shone with a terrible smile, oblivious to the dripping ichor. So expectant. So eager. Demeter looked like a hound about to be fed, excepting the cruelty in her eyes. The goddess needed vengeance the way a dog needed food.
Zeus turned away from her, a tired grimace set on his face. This was going to be tricky.
“Come to me, my son.”
His command, just a murmur, shot through the sky and pierced every listening heart. There was a sound on the air, like an arrow whistling across a battlefield.
The arrow landed softly, wings on his sandals, curved sword at his hip. “I hear you, father.”
Even on this bleakest of days, the diligence of Zeus’ son brought a smile to the God of Justice. It ghosted across his countenance, before he simply uttered, “It is time.”
With a nod, the psychopomp rose from his kneeling posture to float into the air. In his hand was a serpent-twined rod, shining with harsh light. It split the crust of the Earth with its glow, as the wings at the lad’s ankles beat faster and faster. With the speed of the dawn’s breaking, Hermes shot into the crevice underneath him, his path sealing behind him as he flew.
Zeus let out a breath. He was away. He could only hope now that Hermes knew what to say, what to tell them. The hardest part would-
Whipping around, the King of the Gods caught a golden blade between his fingertips as it arced towards his throat. The force of the strike traveled up his arm, jarring him. Zeus answered Demeter’s furious snarl with a disappointed sigh. “This is exactly why no one told you.”
“HOW LONG HAVE YOU KNOWN?!” Her screeching was punctuated by the swing of her scythe. She yanked on the gilded haft, freeing the crescent blade’s tip from the grip of Zeus. It fell to rest on her shoulder, her body poised to swing again. “TELL ME!”
Glancing down at his hand, Demeter’s brother discovered a tiny bead of molten ichor forming on his thumb. She’d nicked him.
The last time his kin had attacked him with a blade of that make, the weapon had been three times the size. Adamantine, it had shone like the bow of the moon, glistening with the dried blood of the first Sky Father.
Blinking the memories away, Zeus’ soft tone buzzed with electricity. “Demeter. Your king can only forgive such an act once.”
This did little to quell her seething indignation, though she did not attack again. She only continued to breathe in ragged gasps, veil and hair both soaked by the rainstorm that raged still around the siblings. Her eyes promised pain. But she waited.
No turning back. He paused for a beat, to see if she really intended to listen. Then…
“Hades came to me, seeking to court her. I gave him my blessing. And I forbade him from approaching you over the matter.”
The wind rose to a howling gale as this betrayal set in. Strength seemed to flee Demeter’s arms, and her gilded scythe fell to the mud. She knelt as if to retrieve it, but then remained there on the sodden ground, her finger tracing the blade. Confusion, hurt, and naked despair were clear on her face. The wind had stripped her visage of its veil.
“Have your children ever been taken from you? Brother?”
There was no preamble to this query. Tired and worn, it escaped her lips. She did not look at him; she kept her eyes on her spattered golden reflection within her blade.
Zeus said nothing, for they knew both the answer to the question. More sat on her tongue, too hurt to escape. Gold dripped from her brother’s thumb. He could not see whether she was crying. There was too much rain.
“I know how you cherish Hermes. If I dragged him away, screaming and fighting, to cut him into tiny pieces with this tool, would you rage as I have? Or would you stand there, as you do now, a heartless callot, and just look at me?”
Ah. Now they got to it. Zeus took a step towards her, his head tilting in a question. “Interesting. I was there when Helios said Kore was taken. I don’t remember him saying she struggled.”
This awoke the hate in Demeter. She would not let this stand. Fighting to her feet, leaving her blade where it lay, she marched through the mire to shout in his face until her voice broke. “He is King Under All! Your elder brother! He has conquered titans and giants, so forgive my little flower if she could not fight back!”
Heaving breaths as she looked for a response. Indignation turned to confusion and anger as she saw the smug grin on her brother’s face. Finally, he had her.
“You know, you make an excellent point. Raised in a harmless valley, twittering nymphs as her only companions, never knowing the world beyond, how could she be expected to struggle against any captor?” The smile died, and he looked down on Demeter in judgment. “Tell me, what exactly does our daughter know of struggle?”
Fear. It gripped Demeter in a vice as implications fell down on her like drops from the sky. Glancing at the spot where his son had departed for the Underworld, Zeus sighed.
“You know the difference between Hermes and Kore? Hermes has killed giants, too. Hermes has stolen from his brothers and conspired against his stepmother and faced consequences for his actions. He’s been given the chance to learn. To become wise, become dangerous Demeter! Tell me. Is Kore dangerous?”
Like a woman possessed, she gripped Zeus by his sash, pulling her face to his. She spoke conspiratorially, in a furtive hiss.
“I’ll spare them all. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Your pets? I’ll bring bounty to the humans- even more. They will live in splendor not seen since the early days of our father’s reign. They’ll build towers to the sky, they’ll defeat disease and fly like we do! All that you’ve said they are capable of, I’ll see they reach it within the century. Just please, give her back to me.”
At this, Zeus put on a mocking face of puzzlement. “And here I thought you plagued humanity to punish me for my inaction.”
She was growing desperate now. “Punish my king? Never! I sought to punish them, obviously!”
“Punish them? For a crime they didn’t commit?” An incredulous chuckle escaped Zeus at this, and Demeter sensed she was not being believed. Frustrated, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“They began calling her Persephone!”
And now, the puzzlement was not mockery or playing. “The mortals call Kore ‘Bringer of Death’? When did this start?”
Aha! Triumph and hope sprung to uplift Demeter’s spirits. “Not long after I went searching for her. Only after talking with Helios did I understand. They’re already calling her his… queen.” She nearly choked on the word.
This curious news was not something Zeus was allowed time to mull over. An approaching rumble in the Earth became a deafening clash, as shattering stone opened a gateway to the realm of the dead. Hermes rose slowly into view, his magic wand alight. Behind him came the figure of a young woman.
She wore a dress as black as pitch, causing her sun-drained skin to almost glow like moonstone. Her hair was pinned with a simple ornament of platinum: a two-pronged fork. A few raven strands tossed about freely over one eye. Her feet were bare, and the only cosmetic on her face was a deep and dark red on her lips.
The same red as the fruit she carried in one hand. On her face was the look of a hoplite, bracing for the charge.
Zeus was suddenly reminded of a question he’d just asked Demeter. ‘Is Kore dangerous?’
Hermes ushered the young woman forward, fighting to keep his face neutral. But his father could see that the Messenger God was holding back a delighted smile.
Turning to look upon his speechless sister, Zeus gestured towards the Queen of the Underworld. “Why don’t we go and see which name our daughter answers to?”
