@psilas  ▸  starter call !!

❝ — why, i think i got me some fine cows! ❞ if nothing else, he’s seemingly rather PROUD of the creatures. they do what they were meant to, and that alone was more than enough for the farmer to take some level of pride in their mindless efforts. teddy balances upon the likes of a creaking old fence that resides at the forefront of their pasture, spares a glance away to shoot another over his shoulder. ❝ wha’ch’a askin’ f’r? y’a interested in farmin’ now ‘r somethin’? ❞ of course, given the chance, he could go on for hours about such a possible prospect, ( but makes the decision to vastly limit himself directly off the bat ). ❝ more animals t’ take care o’ than this, i can promise y’a! ❞

@stoneswept wants to be praised !

OH, ORPHEUS, DEAR SWEET ORPHEUS!

there are not enough words a mortal could hear to describe the daunting task apollon has in describing orpheus!

orpheus and apollo are student and mentor, meeting at a young age fleetingly before leaving again as is the god’s usual tendency, laughing and teasing his way through. he loves orpheus. orpheus never, ever needed apollo’s favor - he EARNED the lyre, he EARNED everything apollo taught him and more, he never earned his sorrowful fate at the hands of the gods!

to apollo, orpheus is a perfect example of what one can do with the talents one is born with when given a little help, a little love, a little friendship here and there. someone to look up to. someone to say the right things at the right times and smile and laugh and drag into places they shouldn’t be and love doing it - not because it’s what he’s supposed to do as a god, but because he thinks it’s what orpheus genuinely deserves.

apollo could sing orpheus’ praises from the top of mount of olympus for a millenia.

@outlawsaviour wishes to be judged ! 

AH, THEODORE FISCHER OF NEW HANOVER !

there is not much to describe in their physical dynamic - because truly, they have never met. instead, this will simply be a judgement of character on behalf of apollon.

to put it simply, apollo likes teddy. as the god of shepherds and medicine, he finds himself generally overlooking people like teddy within his time period, but his optimism and unending kindness catches the god’s attention. it’s something very rarely seen - someone so genuine about caring for other people - he cannot help but take note !

if given the opportunity, teddy is almost guaranteed to gain apollo’s favor in some fashion or another. how this manifests will be a mystery until that time: dependent on what apollo wants to give, what teddy wants, and generally the margin of error associated with such things, but he genuinely wants to aid teddy in his efforts !! likely this will manifest in magic cows, though. just a feeling.

          No love for kin : why would there be love when none first existed for him, what kin does he have in OLYMPUS that cares, that does not cower in fear once the mere shred of darkness slips into the clouds ?   Ah, but he is not HIS BROTHERS, and unlike his brothers, he has some sliver of kindness he can afford to gift even the most incessant of beings, even if that includes his own nephew. The glint of red behind his eyes narrows, the smoke that leaves his nostrils and mouth as he speaks akin to that leaving fire, slowly become white to its horror shade of black. And the thought is, perhaps if he stays silent long enough, then maybe the generous SUN GOD would afford him just a few seconds of precious piece and quiet.

          And to let him ramble on is a mistake. Oh, is it a regret. 

          His speech  keeps on running and running, the words seemed to push at the brim of his mouth and spilled before him like a fountain unable to hold its own. How all these thoughts managed to form themselves into sentences he can comprehend is beyond him, and it is a query he would prefer not to lose sleep over.

          A pause, once it is hopefully finished : one that goes on for longer than he anticipated, but not that it is an inconvenience in the apparent flow of their conversation.     ❝ Are you done ? ❞     Once the silence calls for enough a reply, he takes a last drag from his cigar, and the answers spill out with tendrils of smoke.     ❝ Yes, I stay here all the time, except for that WINTER SOLSTICE event every year. No, it never gets boring, because unlike most of you up there, I have a job to do, and I pride myself in doing it well. ❞

          Elbows plant themselves on his desk, only to dig around the drawers for his glasses, which nearly shatter at the pressure the air around him emanates once the favour leaves bright tongue.     ❝ So, let me get this straight : you’re asking me to help you with GOTH MUSIC. For mortals. Because it’s this time of year — whatever in the depths of TARTARUS this time of year is supposed to be — and a little prize from you as payment. ❞     His back presses against his chair again, and he stares blankly at the young god.     ❝ Kindly get the fuck out of my office. ❞

          For the pause, he may as well not even be a god. He is what we mortals would call a CHRONIC DUMBASS : one who just blinks in response to what seems like   (   although it is not   )   a sudden and harsh rejection, folding his arms in some desperate attempt of keeping his normal authoritative air instead of feeling like a child. He KNOWS this wont work ! Here he is nothing more than what Hades can perceive of him, young boy / play god !           ❛   And what ? That is it ? ❜  Apollo turns, without a shadow, eyes drifting to the door. Although he should leave, an estranged family member who has overstayed his welcome on ground ready to swallow him whole, it is impossible for him to give up so easily. Unfortunately. Fingertips brush the door, before taking a step back into the center of the room, as graceful as could be; he squares broad shoulders carved out of light itself, aura unrelenting. His head cocks slightly to the side, silent - a rarity !           ❛   You are not the only one with WORK to do, Lord Hades. ❜   Ah, instead of implicit threat, he has taken sour turn as an invitation to the dance he is not allowed at, too young and still under father’s rule. Zeus would never allow such disobedience, not that he would ever try to make such a gamble in the sky where he has everything to lose.  ❛   If you do not mind my saying -  though I am certain you will ! - you must understand my position. Mortals simply do not worship the sun, nor rely on magic, or ask upon the Pythia for their fates. Ah, I have plenty to do, yes, still man needs medicine and their herds, but do you not see the tides turning ? ❜  

Familiarity of the god’s greeting breathes a sense of ease into the air, into his mind. His smile comes easier ( brighter, warmer, a touch of sunlight in its own way ) as he begins to relax, calloused fingers stilling against the instrument. Orpheus learned long ago that to be in the presence of a god is something precious, even more so to have one’s favor ; but Apollo feels like seeing an old friend, nerves bleeding out of him with the sound of his laugh. Cheeks flush with the question, a shrug as he shakes his hair out of his eyes, own laughter brushing past his lips. 

“No, no one at home….. but perhaps soon. Although, I   will always make time for you. Surely you know that?” 

“ AH ! “ Even despite this brief moment of confusion, Apollo can usually recognize an artist in love any day of the week under any circumstances, so to think he was so oblivious to his own Orpheus! For shame! One hand moves to his student’s shoulder and the other holds heart dear with dramaticism that puts Dionysus to shame ( permanently on his to-do list ), pulling them close together before beginning to just go in... a direction. Does he know where he’s going? Confidence would say yes, knowledge base would say yes, but a brief scan of any map would say no.

@psilas liked.

          Even as he tries to hide it, the red burning at the back of his eyes grows luminous when he leans his head back into the shadows. The cigar moves to his lips, and as he feels the smoke swim within his mouth, he regards THE YOUNGER GOD with only a stare that would usually send his under-performing employees running for their lives.     ❝ You know, you’re free to call me old as much as you want. ❞     And he leans forward, blinking back the glow that seems to emanate from his skin. GAEA, how long has it been since he has seen real light ?       ❝ But for A GOD OF ARTS, your clothes look… what’s the word the young folk like to use ?  Dated ?  ❞     And he pauses once again to breathe in the heady air from his cigar.

@psilas !

Fingers absently pluck at strings, a soft ( half-hearted, half focussed ) melody filling the air ; playing puts him at ease, even if it’s not his focus. Calms his quickening heart and steadies his breath. There’s nothing to fear, but the knowledge does little to put his nerves to rest– not when there is much to prove, doesn’t want to disappoint the god who helped him hone his skills. He gives a small smile in greeting, hands stilling if only for a moment. 

“Long time no see. What brings you around here?” 

An eyebrow quirks at the formality of such a greeting, but he must admit it has been far too long for comfort to be expected. All he can do his laugh, harmonic in it’s own way, before gesturing to the instrument in his hands   (   ah, gentle as can be, even in the harsh sunlight.  )   “  Is that any way to greet a friend, Orpheus ?  “  Even with some light chastising, pride swells for his student; although to even imply he could be solely responsible for the younger’s improvement with the lyre would be hubris !

          Not that he was completely unaware of his presence ; and how could he not, with his incredibly stark contrast that he pits against his own kingdom. THE GOD OF LIGHT, deep within the realm of darkness, and throughout the place, his shadows seem to swirl and hiss at the sound of his mere footsteps, their antithesis in every way. As he gets up from his chair with a sigh, he fishes a cigar from his pocket, lighting it slowly as the comms begin to buzz, alerting his presence in the form of complaints and concerns over a strange man who seemed to enter THE UNDERWORLD like he knew the place. Oh, if gods could taste death, he would have been here long, long ago.

          A brief glance at his watch tells him the day has barely begun yet, and he already feels like passing out onto his armchair, as he lowers himself into it. Not the beginnings of a headache now, when he barely has time to prepare for the absolute shit show this place would become in about a few seconds.

          And, of course, the timing is impeccable. No time to even put shoes ; exasperated, but barely surprised.

          He regards his salutation merely with a stare, as he brings the cigar from his mouth over the ashtray on his desk. The fact that he reminded him they were family with his disgustingly exuberant calling him UNCLE is only a taste of what is to come. A sigh that billows smoke escapes his lips ; he has been doing this for millennia, there should be no reason he should hate this any more than he has already accustomed himself to it. The comments pass, as does his patience over this incredibly energetic personality of his ; TARTARUS BELOW, would he have to handle all of ZEUS’ CHILDREN like this ?  Unbelievable.

          He would address only the mention of a task, where his interest always lay.     ❝ You know THE POLICY : we only do favors for a price. That includes mortals and gods. ❞     He would be surprised if he still did, with so many thoughts of music and poetry and whatever else the mortals ate of his craft swimming through his head.     ❝ What do you want ?  ❞

        For a moment, he seems well and truly CRESTFALLEN at such a cold reception, shoulders falling and smile vanishing on a whim.    “   No love for your own kin ?   How cruel !   “    This charade can not last forever, lips spreading again after a beat.    “   Can you not even give favor to your own nephew ?   I suppose I wouldn’t give one to a child of Ares regardless of their status.   “    Despite his jesting nature, even he feels the suffocating presence of the dead even here. God of light yes, but god of medicine - how many have died on an operating table and now call for his help ? Ah, such things he would dare not to think about under other such circumstances...

       Still, his optimism is unending, just beneath this horrible meat suit we call life !

       It is within his nature to object to smoking in his presence, regardless of the immortal nature of both present. He does not act on this out of the amount of self restraint he does have; this self restraint is not enough to contain a millennia’s worth of curiosity.

       "   Do you really stay down here all the time ?   “

       He turns his attention away, distracted for the moment, like he hadn’t even considered the possibility that this was an option of life continiously for anyone up until he got here.    “   Does it ever get boring ?   New people all the time, yes, but the same old people never have anywhere new to go.    “

@learnsteps​ wants a love letter !

HENRI LOVES APOLLO AND APOLLO LOVES HIM.

there is no other way to lead with than the simple fact that their summer romance is just that - a romance. they dance into the dimly lit night and wake together early in the morning.

apollo imagines what it must be like to henri. because apollo KNOWS what he is. apollo is kind and eternally graceful. he moves through without ever showing change - without ever having to learn what it means to be human. no fear of death or the next day. he can help whenever he wants - teach henri any instrument he wishes to learn and spin him and kiss him and love him with the intensity of every light that has ever shown on gaia’s land.

to apollo, love is a passing affair, something with a timer on it. something that can and will end. but, by olympus will he fight to keep it when he wants to, he will beg and make deals if he has to just to get one more year. he has and will continue to.