DIOMEDES

𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐑 ; 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐒 – AS PENNED BY JENNA

@diomcdes​​ location: after the governance and tech in gaia panel.  time: week two. 

with the discussion finished, odysseus was left to mingle among both those bright-eyed and those hungry – those that considered themselves wolves and those that knew how to hide their teeth. individuals stopped him to follow-up on regulations, on innovation, on that nebulous thing they had collectively dubbed the future. and he almost made it through it all, smiling as he needed and humming in consideration as he listened. none of his exhaustion showed; none of his uncertainty. he was the same he had always been, as he always would be.

odysseus would have made it through as he had made it through countless other events – until he saw diomedes. they were not someone to ignore; they would not become someone to placate either. odysseus saw diomedes, and diomedes saw him. together, they formed a snake eating its own tail. endless, endless. 

that cold flush of anger fell over odysseus, and he felt separated from his body as he approached her. appearances, he convinced himself. it was always about appearances. 

( hadn’t she been one of many to teach him that? ) 

“quorum member delyle,” he greeted, quiet enough it might have just been the two of them. as if all the world existed in the space between them. “dare i ask what you thought of the discussion?” 

Perhaps it was naive of Diomedes to believe that she would be able to attend ODYSSEUS’ panel and avoid the man himself, attempting to make a hasty getaway after congratulating Athena and avoiding the follow up to a confrontation that had been shadowing the back of her mind since it had happened. Perhaps they would have gotten away with this, too, were it not for the stolen glance they cannot help but take – realising their mistake a moment too late as their eyes lock on Odysseus’ own. Seen and understood. Reflected and distorted.

They could still run – break eye contact and pretend it had never been made. They could, and yet they don’t. Yes, perhaps they were naive, but perhaps part of them had been hoping that exactly this would happen. That a public forum would be the place where Odysseus would finally be forced to speak to them once again – that something, anything, would be better than the months of nothingness they had endured. 

It is an endless game of trying to gain or keep the upper hand, with Diomedes Delyle. Scylla think she has it, these days, what with Scalpel having more sure footing than ever and the politician in hot water. There are cards she holds that could make that water even hotter, actually, and she revels in the knowledge. Not that she is about to: sometimes the knowledge that you have power over a person is enough. No need to wield it, when it simply exists.

But really, she likes Diomedes, and that isn’t a sentiment she extends to many. Ambivalence, after all, is Scylla’s preferred state: her passions extend to her work, to her fixations and to her endless hunger for power, not to something as fickle as people. But there is something about having a person in your life who has been there for decades, a kind of constant: even if it’s sometimes nothing more but a constant, annoying humming.

See, Scylla tends to forget, that she was once a small girl that threw herself in her lessons with a childish ferocity. She prefers to forget most of her past, as life to the likes of her is all about the future. Diomedes Delyle could just be a politician on whose good side she resides, but they are more than that: they are some kind of strange anchor, a reminder of the place from which she dwelled. The only one, perhaps. It’s not like she speaks to her father much these days.

So, she smiles when Diomedes approaches. Because she has the upper hand, these days. Because she likes them. Because there’s an age-old familiarity there. “Ah, come on now. This just barely scratches the surface.” The other should know as much. “It’d be bad business, to show off everything at a demonstration station.” What a depressing term. But then, wasn’t the whole idea to make Scalpel something marketable? “Maybe you should try it, though, before you cast your judgement. Come, Mede, take a seat?” 

“I somehow don’t doubt that.” Diomedes had made countless investments over the years – throwing their money around like seedlings and hoping something would sprout, that the rewards she reaped would far exceed her efforts. And, for the most part, they did. There were a few blunders here and there ( these were, of course, quickly swept under the rug and forgotten, any promises they had made broken as quickly as they were forged ), but Diomedes had always been exceedingly lucky with their investments – and this luck had been enough to propel them from the small Arcadian town they’d once felt trapped in, to a figure known through Gaia. 

SCALPEL had been one of their riskier investments. The company was already embroiled in scandal when Diomedes had dipped her hand in – and, perhaps someone wiser would have steered clear of it altogether ( ODYSSEUS certainly had ), but there was an allure that came with being the company’s SAVIOUR that Diomedes simply couldn’t resist. The heroic benefactor, saving them from the brink of collapse. The deal was only sweetened, of course, by the fact that SCYLLA would be indebted to her. 

It had paid off when Scalpel had been acquired by AEGEAN, of course. Diomedes had profited off this deal on both sides, though it was quickly soured by the stories that would soon be published about their past. With their integrity being called into question, it was, naturally, in Diomedes’ best interests to keep their affiliation with Scalpel as quiet as possible – something she trusted Scylla would happily do, until it no longer benefited her. She didn’t like this feeling – that her fate was in the hands of another, that Scylla held the cards that could either save her or spell her doom. She much preferred when it had been the other way around – now she simply squirmed under Scylla’s pointed gaze.

Aite feels small here. Maybe it’s because she’s made herself so. One would think of herself as invincible, but she’s entirely out of her depth. It wasn’t as if she could ignore the invite to Pontius, especially with so much to learn and see. There were bound to be discoveries made that would do quite well as segments on her show. Those who roamed these halls, even, she could see in the chair next to herself, guiding them on how to explain their tech in terms that her viewers would understand – in ways that her viewers would want to understand. 

But there are a lot of moving parts. Some of which take Aite by surprise. 

She could stay by the water’s edge, bikini clad with a drink in her hand. This is what others would expect of her. But she does have a show to promote. One that, despite her misguided plan, does mean something to her. 

So she roams the halls as the others do, her own badge brightly lit thanks to Hermes’ help, and a code on her forearm that she’s sprayed strawberry perfume on to tempt the technological faults. Of course, it remains. 

It’s not until she feels somebody’s hand on her arm does she turn, head in the clouds, gaze wandering over some familiar, and unfamiliar faces. 

“Oh, Diomedes!” She glances behind her, raises a brow. “And where is our Delphi today, hm?” Off the leash, or unhooked from the collar, Aite wonders. “I’m sorry to say, I do not. I was actually looking for it as well. I believe they may have mixed up rooms, or maybe I’m reading my brochure incorrectly– oh, look at that! Upside down.” 

AITE’S face was one which was familiar to Diomedes, if only in passing. It was prudent ( or so she’d been told ) for her to be aware of most figures in the media – especially if they were going to be throwing around unsavoury rumours about her. Aite’s program wasn’t something they had ever taken particularly seriously ( did anyone? ), but she’d been warned that the woman could be dangerous – though Diomedes had never been a particularly cautious person, so these warnings, unfortunately, went unheard more often than not.

ODYSSEUS had facilitated many of Diomedes’ appearances on NEMEAN NEWS in the past ( she tries not to think about how he will likely never extend the same courtesy to her again ), so much of what she knew of the presenters had come from him, or via Athena. Of course, she’d been able to form her own opinions – and Aite seemed like someone whose personality would likely only clash with Diomedes’ own.

Though they had been keeping somewhat of a low profile for the duration of the summit ( how very uncharacteristic ), Diomedes had made the effort to locate the Governance and Tech in Gaia panel – not because she was particularly interested in the topic ( though, she should have been ), but because ODYSSEUS was a panelist, and ATHENA was moderating. Just a few short months ago, they would have openly been here to support them both, but now, Diomedes keeps their gaze low when Odysseus looks into the crowd, and actively avoids him when it is over, instead making a beeline for Athena.

“Wonderful job.” She says as soon as Athena is within earshot, clapping her hands together with a grin. Athena was one of the few friends Diomedes would say they truly trusted – someone who had been there almost as long as Diomedes could remember, always willing to offer a shoulder or some advice ( even if Diomedes’ inclinations to take the advice varied wildly with their mood ), and, even with the scandal that Diomedes was currently wading through, Athena had not abandoned them, which was more than could be said for others.

Here’s the thing about the smaller cities in Arcadia: they are almost impossible to escape. Not in the way one would become trapped in a haunted house, or a giant maze – but in the sense that, when one is growing up there, it is difficult to imagine a life anywhere else. Sure, there are a few success stories – people who went out and made something of themselves, despite their humble beginnings, but these are few and far between – most ‘successes’ seemed to be those who already had deep pockets and rich bloodlines. So, when Diomedes had set their mind on greatness at a young age, it had been with the knowledge that they would need to fight for everything they would earn. Scylla... well, Scylla never seemed to need to fight as hard.

Having grown up in neighbouring cities, it is easy enough to draw comparisons between Diomedes and Scylla. They had both been among the lucky ones who had escaped, who had managed to create lives for themselves outside of their humble upbringings. Despite coming from similar backgrounds, Diomedes had always been quietly jealous of Scylla. Her intelligence had seemed unmatched – and she’d never had to work to be the best, not in the way Diomedes had. Things seemed to come naturally to her, and though Diomedes was always destined for greatness, Scylla seemed to seize it as though it had been her prophecy, all along.

She would admit to taking some satisfaction in watching the mighty fall – in watching Scalpel crumble under the weight of its own shortcomings, though she still considered Scylla friend enough to reach into her own pockets to save it from the brink of collapse. It was always like this, with them, just waiting for the other to fail so they could seize the upper hand – she was sure that Scylla now took the same pleasure in watching Diomedes squirm under the scrutiny of the public eye. 

The KALAVRIA SUMMIT seemed like strange ground to be treading at the moment. In fact, Diomedes didn’t think that it could have possibly come at a worse time – what, with their fitness for office being called into question over their investment into the company some twenty-odd years ago. Sure, they hadn’t exactly been transparent about the source of their wealth, and sure, they’d spent the majority of their Quorum career working alongside ODYSSEUS and his platform of technology regulation – and although the distance between herself and Odysseus stung and the public distrust felt unfair, they still didn’t see their decision to invest all those years ago as a poor decision. 

Perhaps one which had become more trouble than it was worth, but still one which had benefitted her until now.

Diomedes had been keeping something of a low profile since arriving at the Summit – trying their hardest to avoid anyone who might seek to probe them with questions they didn’t yet feel like answering. It was easy enough to do so when all eyes aboard Pontius seemed to be on the stars of the event ( or those who had been populating the tabloids far more than Diomedes herself ), but they found themselves entering the second week of the summit with still very little sense of direction aboard the expansive ship.