—the knife that will slaughter heaven

brilliant achilles. shining achilles. god-like achilles, the pithians had called him. in the dark corners of gaia, they only call him the butcher.

who: @ackhilles​  where: pontius when: the chaos ball event

Going with Hera to the ball was a good idea in general, they didn’t end up going alone and managed to have some fun while they hang out together. Eventually they both had their own conversations with their different or mutual friends and parted ways for a bit and after socializing more than enough, Patroclus found himself ordering a drink from the bar, looking around the room as he waited for his drink.

Despite the masks, despite being in a room full of people somehow his eyes always managed to find Achilles as if he was always seeking him, like it hasn’t been two decades since the two worked, lived and searched for each other daily. Patroclus turned back to the bar, the drink ready and in front of him. It was a bad idea, whatever he had in his mind but his body was moving without his say so.

With the drink in hand, Patroclus walked and found himself standing besides Achilles and his heart was beating fast, maybe if the room was quiet people could hear it from how loudly it was probably beating. However, Patroclus managed or at least tired to look calm, having a drink in his hand helped. “Enjoying the ball?” It was dry and not at all how he wanted to start this conversation. 

—

Achilles’ life could be cleanly split down the middle; the twenty years with Patroclus and the twenty years after him. Never without though because it was his name underlying his every thought. It was nothing less than a haunting, a particularly cruel one at that but the alternative was so much worse. 

They had seen each other over the years but always for a single moment. Their eyes meeting from across a crowded courtyard; gone in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t nearly enough when Achilles could have looked at him for hours but he kept those moments close to his heart too, just as he did with everything else when it came to him. 

It was hard to be here and Achilles knew that it showed but a part of him had wanted to see everything Patroclus had built. Achilles had always thought of Patroclus and thought of life, of flowers blooming in the sun and a world that amounted more than the blood staining his hands. He had done it all and more and it had made it just a bit easier to breathe. For him to have the life he had dreamed of, Achilles would have done it a million times over. 

He was always aware of Patroclus and his hand tightened around the drink in his hand as he started to make his way over. He was glad for the mask and whatever flimsy protection it offered because he had never been able to hide his feelings and he could not possibly have made sense of his emotions right then — the anticipation and the fear and the sheer want. “Not my scene,” he managed to say and somehow his voice was steady. He paused, took a sip of his drink to ground himself before turning to look at him, “Not yours either.”

when: after the after party

where: pontius

They are quiet as they make their way to Hades’ room. It is comforting in its familiarity even if the silence between them is heavy tonight. Achilles’ is haunted by the ghost of everything he has lost, feeling it more closely tonight than he has in a while and yet there is something to be said about the ease with which he falls by his side. Achilles doesn’t miss the way Hades looks at him; knows him well enough by now to be able to read the worry in his eyes. Achilles doesn’t bother trying to hide from him. He had already pledged his life to Hades; he didn’t keep secrets from him. 

Someone was posted in the vicinity of Hades’ room at all times so it was never left unguarded but Achilles didn’t take any chances. He waits for Hades to complete the biometric verification before slipping in the room as silent as a shadow, a knife between his fingers. He is poised to attack, moving as if he expects to find someone. Achilles gestures him inside once he’s satisfied before taking out a small device and running it over the surfaces in the room, making sure there isn’t anything planted in the room. He only lets himself relax once he’s done.

He turns towards Hades, “I’ll let you get some rest.” 

when: day after the after party

where: pontius 

There's a headache building steadily behind his eyes, owing to the lack of sleep and the amount of alcohol he had consumed since he had stepped foot on Pontius. He keeps it at bay through sheer force of will — and his third cup of coffee, reminding himself that they were one day closer to leaving this place. Alcohol blurred the edge of his surroundings but he had found himself wanting that very thing over and over again on the visit. He is well aware of the cracks in his armour; he just can't bring himself to care.

He is far more distracted than he usually is. He has always been able to throw himself in his work with unceasing focus. It is only one of the ways he knows to deal with Patroclus' absence all these years but Patroclus is everywhere in this place and it picks him apart at the seams. He is never neglectful of his duties but his team is strong; he doesn't need to direct every single task. He trusts them and he trusts Mino who had proven himself to be dependable time and time again.

He spots him at a table in the corner and heads over, clapping his shoulder. “Rough night, huh?” Achilles asks, raising an eyebrow as he takes a look at him. “I need you awake,” he sets down a cup of coffee infront of him before taking a seat across from him, “Anything I need to know?”