amongst the shadows and the fog...

"You  look-  fuck  you  are  amazing  look  at  you!"  She  runs  over  but  keeps  her  distance  since  they  weren't  that  close  in  life.  Immediately  her  bare  feet  shift  so  she  can  give  a  little  bop  of  respect  to  her  as  a  goddess.

"I  am  so  glad  to  see  your  true  powers,  my  dear.  So  glad."

  the  memory  of  her  maenadic  years  are,  like  most  memories  in  her  pre-deification  life,  fuzzy  and  muted.  it  is  as  if  she  is  not  meant  to  recall  them  with  clarity,  despite  the  divine  blood  in  her  veins  and  the  longevity  of  her  lifespan.  now,  being  something  far  beyond  that,  recalling  those  memories  is  like  trying  to  collect  water  into  her  hands.  there's  always  less  than  when  she  started  with. 

  however,  she  does  recognize  this  woman.  her  cadence,  her  appearance,  her  body  language  provide  strong  cues  to  her.  and  now,  with  the  woman's  aura  spilling  out  from  her  in  rich  maroons  and  bloody  reds,  in  thick,  messy,  violent  splotches  like  running  paws,  racing  hearts,  and  blood  splatter,  it  feels  like  coming  home.  finally,  she  can  accept  the  maternal  pride  that  she  never  could  when  she  was  a  maenad. 

  her  eyes  tear  up,  a  relieved  smile  gracing  her  face.  she  shakes  her  head  at  the  bow,  even  though  she  knows  it  is  customary  and  she  can't  fight  a  millennia  old  system.  instead,  she  approaches,  closing  the  distance  and  wrapping  her  arms  around  hypatia,  careful  to  keep  her  wings  out  of  her  face. 

  “  it's  me!  ”  she  says  with  a  laugh,  even  as  the  tears  of  relief  and  love  fall.  “  it's  me,  and  it's  you!  you  have  to  tell  me  everything  that's  happened  since  i  left.  i  want  to  hear  all  of  it.  " 

Not one to ever leave a hug first, still she clings until the goddess begins to part.

"Oh well, a lot of it is quite the same, and the stuff that isn't could take a while even for a good bard. Though there are a few plays we could show you... Oh! And you should definitely meet Ariadne's priestess as well. She's one of the newest of us here and her gruesome sculptures are incredible. I want to know more about you though, goddess! And does this mean you'll come to our parties in the future?" Her eyebrows wiggled, a wink given as her hands clutched at one another before her chest.

She truly did wonder what kind of party-goer Magissa would be now that she is herself!

They  had  ordered  two  drinks  on  their  way  in  and  now  one  sat  empty  opposite  them  as  they  played  with  the  lid  on  their  lighter,  flicking  it  on  and  off  as  they  just  think  things  over.  Smirking  as  they  figure  their  absence  at  their  own  retirement  party  has  been  noticed  by  now.

When  a  figure  sits  down  opposite  them,  they  smile  around  the  rim  of  their  drink  and  look  at  her  briefly  through  the  glass  before  setting  it  down.

"You're  late.  For  once."  (  for  mel,  from  dys  )

          ⸻ ˗ˏˋ ꒰  🌤️  🌊  ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ⸻

painted  lips  curve  into  a  wry  smile  as  she  settles  down  across  from  her  every  fixation  personified.  her  long  curtain  of  black  hair  hangs  freely  from  beneath  her  scarf,  but  the  tell-tale  white  streak  above  her  forehead  is  hidden.  stocking  adorned  legs  cross  one  over  the  other  beneath  the  table,  her  heels  dripping  rainwater  to  the  tile  floor  below.

“pardon  me  for  having  enough  sense  to  say  a  polite  goodbye.  i  had  to  wait  until  the  chief  articulated  your  absence  and  you  know  how  long  it  takes  that  fool  to  see  anything  beyond  his  next  bottle  of  liquor.”  manicured  but  bare  nails  tap  lightly  against  her  silver  poisoner's  ring,  disguised  as  a  class  ring  from  her  academy  days.  mismatched  eyes  inspect  their  choice  of  drink  beneath  wet  lashes,  heavy  from  the  rain.

she  says  nothing  further,  merely  makes  eye  contact  with  the  bartender  who  prepares  her  a  whiskey  sour  without  further  question.  he  brings  it  over  to  her,  and  she  does  not  give  him  a  smile,  merely  a  nod  in  thanks.  she  looks  back  to  dys  then,  and  raises  her  glass  just  enough  to  be  considered  toasting. 

Noting her inspection of their drink choice, they shrug. They too had gone for whiskey sours, both because one of those drinks had been intended for her (had she not been so polite to her superior), and because she had been on their mind. As the former-rival tended to be moreso nowadays.

A glass is raised with hers.

"To new chapters and no boss overlord." They take a sip, look around the quiet bar and back to her through strands of their dark hair.

"So, will this be a new chapter for you too? Heading back out there somewhere I'm no longer allowed to hear of, or will you live vicariously through my, undecided life of retirement?"

“good.  i  see  you,  too."   a  pause,  as  she  decides  how  to  explain  the  purpose  of  this  visit  to  them;  that  eleos  refused  to  have  her  only  associations  with  phrike  to  be  in  times  of  danger.   “it's  been  a  while  since  i've  seen  you.   i  know  you've  been  training  hard.” 

this  visit  is  being  monitored,  distantly,  and  they're  deliberately  in  a  controlled  area  so  they  don't  cause  havoc  throughout  the  underworld  like  in  phrike's  inception,  but  they  have  privacy  for  the  most  part.

Words of their training go unanswered, seeing an answer already in them. The training had been going well. It had been a while.

The rub of those shadowed thumbs cause slight ripples in the haired skin beneath her grasp, ticklish against such gentle touch.

At the ridiculous question, their head rears a little in outrage.

At  least  Hypnos  could  confirm  Phea  and  her  partner  were  fine.

Lyssa  meanwhile  was  crouched  in  an  alleyway  with  her  palms  pressed  to  her  eyes  trying  to  breathe  like  a  moron  as  she  realised  she  had  to  see  her  sister.

After  Hypnos  had  assured  her  for  the  hundredth  time,  Lyssa  slowly  made  her  way  to  her  sister's  place  and  gave  her  special  knock.  She'd  cleaned  up  but  now  she  was  in  a  simple  black  hoodie  with  her  hands  shoved  in  the  front  pocket  as  she  swayed  from  foot  to  foot  in  discomfort  as  she  waited  for  her  sister.  As  soon  as  she  was  in  and  saw  Phea,  her  arms  wrapped  around  her  and  she  hugged  her  in  silence.  Her  whole  body  stiff.

          ⸻ ˗ˏˋ ꒰  🌤️  🌊  ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ⸻

the  joyous,  warm  surprise  of  lyssa's  visit  sinks  to  cold  worry  as  her  sister  does  not  speak,  but  rather  clings  to  her,  hiding  away  in  silence.   phea  closes  the  door  and  locks  it  one  handed,  the  other  arm  wrapped  securely  around  her  sister's  stiff  body.   she  squeezes  her  close,  resting  her  cheek  on  her  sister's  shoulder,  before  softly  offering,  “couch?” 

it  would  do  both  of  them  good  to  sit;  phea's  memories  may  be  unreliable  at  times  but  there's  something  deeply  familiar  about  this.   about  a  clean  — too  clean,  for  the  middle  of  the  day  /  night  —  lyssa  slipping  into  phea's  arms,  away  from  everyone  else.   usually,  it  meant  something  had  gone  wrong.  but  lyssa  doesn't  seem  hurt,  or  so  phea  thinks;  she's  not  a  doctor  or  anything.   but  she  knows  her  sister. 

Though the moment she saw her sister and the worried look, she wordlessly folded back into her sister's arms. A nod was the only signal given to accept the offer of couch. Peeling again once more, she checked the doorways to the other rooms and then sunk down onto the couch.

"Nothing's gone wrong. I've gone wrong. I-" A frustrated huff leaves her, sick of her own emotions and all the associated bullshit.

"I wish I'd never agreed to heal." Her hands pressed into her eyes again. "I wish we'd never been born into this bullshit!"

What she knew laid beneath all this upset and stress and worry was fatigue. She was tired. So tired of all the death, the psychos, the violence that had to happen just for a semblance of an ordinary life to stay afloat. Now, thanks to Sal and her family, she'd fucking craved normality. And it made her for once sick of what she'd been raised to do.

It was becoming increasingly harder to do, but if she didn't do it how the fuck could they live safely?

"I killed another but I could barely fucking stomach it. I'm- everything's wrong with me."

           ⸻ ˗ˏˋ ꒰  🌤️  🌊  ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ⸻

sal's  never  surprised  at  the  ferocity  of  lyssa's  emotional  responses  to  life  anymore;  if  anything,  she's  grateful  that  her  wife  is  starting  to  show  them,  to  really  feel  them.   she  knows  it's  overwhelming  for  her,  but  it's  a  mark  of  progress.   and  she'd  rather  have  her  overwhelmed  and  coming  to  her  for  help  than  overwhelmed  and  numbing  it  out  with  dissociation  or  lethal  gym  routines. 

she  wraps  her  arms  around  her,  pausing  to  turn  down  the  tv  as  she  pulls  lyssa  more  firmly  into  her  embrace  on  the  couch,  her  long  legs  bracketing  her  in  against  her  body.   she  presses  soft  kisses  to  her  hair,  hands  rubbing  up  and  down  her  back  as  she  hums  softly.   she  doesn't  need  to  comment  on  the  day  being  bad,  so  she  stays  silent  initially.

So she breathed and tried not to think about how the entire world felt like it was testing her today in its dull and stupid state. Retirement was stupid, she didn't know why she agreed to it. It just felt so boring, even if there was still the threat of her siblings out there. She'd done enough damage for them to leave her alone. Work, even with Mel, was getting boring and Sal still went away. Thankfully not today.

The chocolate request comes and Lyssa considers it before just tightening her grip and shrugging.

"Later maybe. You're not moving now."

"Baby?"  Their  sleep-deepened  voice  calls  out  to  her  before  another  yawn  takes  them.  "Baby,  angel,  come  back  to  bed.  It's,"  looking  at  the  clock  they  whine.  "Too  early  for  breakfast."

           ⸻ ˗ˏˋ ꒰  🌤️  🌊  ꒱ ˎˊ˗  ⸻

orphea  knows  exactly  what  she's  doing,  making  sof  ask  for  her  this  early  in  the  morning.   and  it  hits,  every.   single.   time.   pleasant  shivers  run  down  her  back  as  she  hears  that  low,  smoky  voice  asking  for  her,  thick  with  sleep  and  having  seemingly  dropped  (  again!  )  overnight  from  the  testosterone  regimen  they'd  been  on. 

she  bites  her  lower  lip  as  she  circles  the  bed,  moving  over  to  sof's  side  and  coaxing  them  onto  their  back  with  a  hand  on  their  shoulder.   “awww,  but  i'm  hungry.” 

Hands move to settle on her thighs, rolling up to her hips when the rolling happens - a little encouragement. Soft sighs leave their lips as the warmth of Phea's lips ghosts over their neck. Their head tilts, giving way to those exploring kisses as a hand of their own now snakes up her spine, slipping beneath the thin fabric and around to her ribs. Exploring the meal they were soon to have.

"Yeah? Well, breakfast in bed is nice..."

Already they were picturing what they wanted. Their harness was still in its drawer, and their mind is already drawn to the image of how they could have their girlfriend crying out softly against sun-rosied sheets. That image alone had them moving the hand from her ribs up to her chest to start groping there softly, thumb rubbing over her nipple.

"...but there's something we're missing."

Sof tilts their head to steal Phea's lips away in a few passionate kisses before their final whisper comes, words brushing against kiss-swollen lips.

"Get my harness, pick your favourite addition."

"Yeah nah it's the first one. They're probably at a cafe or a wine bar or something. My husband's totally not a "retail fucker"" he chuckles again. "She has, like, so little patience for even walking around the city sometimes. She's not the ultra long shopping type. That's me and my older sister more for sure. We're like moths to a flame if we see something real cool."

His head rolls on the sofa to gaze at Kleis on the floor before he goes to lay on the couch instead.

I'd  never  given  much  thought  to  how  I'd  die.

dying  in  the  place  of  someone  I  love  seems  like  a  good  way  to  go.

I  can't  bring  myself  to  regret  the  decision  that  brought  me  here  to  die.

have  a  good  life.

it  won't  work  again,  baby.

your  hair's  longer.

he  hasn't  shut  up  about  it  since  you  told  him  you  were  coming.

yeah  ...  I  think  I  remember.

are  they  always  like  this?

it's  getting  worse  with  old  age.

too  bad.  would've  been  nice  to  know  at  least  one  person.

I'm  kind  of  a  suffer  in  silence  type.

are  you  alright?  I  warned  them  not  to  make  me  play.

it's  only  a  flesh  wound.

that's  why  they  kicked  me  out.

it's  first  grade  all  over  again,  and  you're  the  shiny  new  toy.

they  kinda  keep  to  themselves.

I'm  not  even  sure  that's  legal.

they're  not  actually  related.

he's  totally  gorgeous,  obviously.

but  apparently,  no  one  here  is  good  enough  for  him.

don't  waste  your  time.

I'll  just  endure  it.

are  people  talking  about  them  again?

ice  doesn't  help  the  uncoordinated.

be  careful.

give  it  up  for  the  rain.

I  didn't  have  a  chance  to  introduce  myself  last  week.

you've  been  gone.

enjoying  the  rain?

seriously?  you're  asking  me  about  the  weather?

no.  I  don't  like  the  cold.  or  the  wet.  or  the  gray.  or  parkas.  or  turtle  necks.

I'm  just  trying  to  figure  you  out.

you're  very  hard  to  read.

did  anyone  see  what  happened?

I'm  so  sorry,  I  tried  to  stop.

it  sure  as  hell  is  not  okay.

we  nearly  lost  you.

it  was  amazing  he  got  to  me  so  fast.

as  long  as  you're  safe.

can  I  talk  to  you  for  a  moment?

how  did  you  get  over  to  me  so  quickly?

I  know  what  I  saw.

and  what,  exactly,  was  that.

you  stopped  the  van.  you  pushed  it  away.

no  one  will  believe  that.

I  wasn't  planning  to  tell  anyone.

I  just  want  to  know  the  truth.

can't  you  just  thank  me  and  get  over  it?

you're  not  going  to  let  it  go,  are  you?

I  hope  you  enjoy  disapointment.

why  did  you  even  bother?

look!  you're  moving.  you're  ALIVE!

actually,  I'm  glad  you're  not  dead  cause  -  well,  that  would  suck.

you  want  to  go?  to  prom.  with  me?

how  did  you  know  about  that?

you  didn't  answer  my  question.

you  haven't  answered  any  of  mine.  you  won't  even  say  hello.

it  helps  if  you  actually  watch  where  you  put  your  feet.

I  know  I've  been  rude,  but  it's  for  the  best.

it  would  be  better  if  we  weren't  friends.

too  bad  you  didn't  figure  that  out  earlier.

you  think  I  regret  saving  you?

she  always  did  know  how  to  worry.

should  I  know  what  that  means?

la  push,  baby.  you  in?

I  don't  just  surf  the  internet.

you  stood  up  once.  on  a  foam  board.

I'll  go  if  you  stop  saying  that.

your  mood  swings  are  giving  me  whiplash.

if  you  were  smart,  you'd  avoid  me.

so  let's  say,  for  argument's  sake,  that  I'm  not  smart.  would  you  talk  to  me?  tell  me  the  truth?

I'd  rather  hear  your  theories.

what  if  I'm  not  the  hero?  what  if  I'm  the  bad  guy.

scenarios based on tropes from the film noir genre

1. receiver's muse is a grizzled P.I, and sender's muse visits their office to request their help

2. sender's muse is a grizzled P.I, and receiver's muse visits their office to request their help

3. receiver's muse had a flashback and sudden realization that sender's muse is the suspect they've been looking for

4. receiver's muse is a detective questioning sender's muse about a crime

5. sender's muse is a detective questioning receiver's muse about a crime

6. receiver's muse is a femme fatale trying to distract sender's muse from their work

7. sender's muse is a femme fatale trying to distract receiver's muse from their work

8. receiver's muse is a criminal who shows up to mock sender's muse (the P.I. investigating them)

9. sender's muse is a criminal who shows up to mock receiver's muse (the P.I. investigating them)

10. receiver's muse is a detective beginning to doubt reality due to a confusing case, and turns to sender's muse for help

11. sender's muse is a detective beginning to doubt reality due to a confusing case, and turns to receiver's muse for help

12. receiver's muse dramatically confronts sender's over a crucial secret they've been hiding

a collection of dialogue prompts for or about characters who have been treated or trained as weapons by others, valued only for their capacity for violence, destruction, and harm. trigger warnings for mentions of murder and violence. change & alter as needed.

THE WEAPON:

"I'm not proud of the person they've turned me into. But it's all I know. And it's too late for me to change now."

"If there was ever any good in me, there's none left anymore."

"I don't know where the blood ends. Where my hands begin."

"I do what it takes to survive. And I don't care if that makes me a villain."

"I'm good at hurting people. I'm not going to apologize for doing what I'm good at."

"I'll never know who I could have been if they hadn't made me into this."

"This is your fault! You did this to me! You're the reason I'm like this!"

"Don't try and get close to me. You'll just get yourself hurt."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm... I'm not very good at being good."

"I don't really know how to be gentle."

"I'm not nice, and I'm not going to pretend to be. Deal with it."

"They made me a monster."

"They're all afraid of me. And they're right to be. You should be, too."

"I know I'm a villain. I don't need you to tell me that."

"Look at what they did to me! Look at what they made me into! It's their fault! They ruined me!"

"I wish they'd just killed me. I wish they'd just killed me instead of turning me into this. Being dead is better than being a monster."

"I know you're scared of me. It's okay. Everyone is."

"What does it matter whether I feel guilty about it or not? I still did it. Being sorry doesn't change that."

"Who am I if I'm not a monster?"

"No one could ever love me after everything I've done."

"Why aren't you afraid of me? How can you not be afraid of me?"

"I don't even know who I am without them pulling my strings."

"You want me to be the villain so bad? I can damn well provide."

"I don't want to be like this anymore. I don't want to hurt people. I want to be gentle. I want to be good."

"Who am I if I'm not what they've made me?"

"I don't need a weapon. I am one."

"Do you think I have it in me, to be good?"

THE WIELDER:

"You look so beautiful covered in somebody else's blood."

"And where did this little crisis of conscience come from all of a sudden?"

"You don't get to say no to me. Not after everything I've done for you. You owe me."

"You belong to me. You're mine."

"Where would you be without me? Who would you be without me? ...That's right. So let's try and be a little more grateful, hm?"

"I gave you everything, and this is how you choose to repay me?"

"I made you! You're nothing without me!"

"You don't make the rules, darling. That's my job."

"You are a dog, and I hold your leash. Never forget that."

"I didn't make you a monster. I just brought out what was already there."

"Look at you, coming when I call, eating out of my hand, doing everything I tell you... such a good dog, aren't you?"

"You think you can just walk away from me? Where are you going to go? Nobody else could possibly love a sick thing like you!"

"Monster is such an ugly word. I prefer to think of it as... helping you reach your fullest potential."

"I've got you trained so well, don't I?"

"I thought you knew better than to disobey me."

"Do you really think you can be a hero? After everything you've done?"

"Well, then, if I really ruined your life like you say, why don't you just kill me? We both know you're good at that."

"This is all you're good for. Don't go getting delusions of grandeur on me now."

"You couldn't survive without me. Don't ever delude yourself into thinking otherwise."

"I give the orders. You take them. Not the other way around."

"Destruction is really the only thing you're good at, darling. Take that away, and what's left?"

THE OBSERVER:

"You don't have to be what they tell you to be, you know? You're not stuck. You can change."

"You're not a monster. You're my friend."

"Being gentle doesn't come easy to you, does it?"

"You're a good person. I'm sorry they made you think you aren't."

"You kind of have a little... blood... on your face. ...Don't worry, I'll get it for you."

"I'm not scared of you."

"So, have you ever... you know... killed somebody?"

"You're sick, you know that? You're really sick. I can't believe you seriously do this kind of shit."

"Look, I know who you are. I know what you've done. And I'm not running away from you. You can't scare me off."

"You really are a monster."

"Why do you listen to them? Why do you take orders from them? You don't have to obey everything they tell you."

"So, let me get this straight: you know how to kill a man fifteen different ways, just with your bare hands, and you wouldn't even break a sweat... but you don't know what to do at a party?"

"You're not as mean as you want everyone to think you are."

"You say you're not a dog. So why do you blindly follow orders like one?"

"You don't have to do this. You don't have to be like this. You can choose your own path."

"You really are as bad as they say."

"Don't touch me. You have blood on your hands."

"I know you won't hurt me. I trust you."

"No! Stay away from me! Don't come any closer!"

"The world isn't just heroes and villains. You don't have to be one or the other. And just because you've been one doesn't mean you can't be the other."

"You don't have to listen to them. You don't have to obey."