nothing gold can stay

Rhodes & Helios: Modern Aesthetic

Another museum, another piece of “art”, and the same boring individuals. He is a traveller; that kid who said that he would explore the world rather than stay trapped in the education system and grew up to do just that. Culture, that is what his parents and others had told him. Museum had culture and if he was going to travel he would have to stop, at some point, and look at the visual history. Helios doesn’t know why people bother staring at images made and distorted by one or more individuals who are dead. He says he can do better; that there are already better things out there in the world that are not confined to a white wall. He believes there is more to living than admiring another’s work. Helios believes he sounds like art critics and the admirers. He tries to use words only ever brought up if one was staring at the dictionary. He says all of this and more when she asks for his opinion. While everyone else in the museum, including her, had been looking at the pieces of art, he had been staring at her. The brunette with her tied up with a paintbrush. At least he thinks it is a paint brush. 

Another trip to on of the few places she feels at home in. Those who work at the museum know her by name now. They don’t disturb her when she stands too close to one of the pieces of art, nor do they comment on how she’ll sit on the floor to get a better angle when she recreates a painting or sketches one of the statues. It is Rhodes. The Royal College of Art is her home away from home away from home. When she is at the museums she keeps to herself. She finds it easier to concentrate when she is working, but she also does it to watch the other individuals in the museums. She studies them just as much as they studied the pieces of art hung on the walls. She has always been curious about how others see things. It is one of the reasons why she went for an art degree. Rhodes usually keeps enough distance from those she watches so she does not disturb them, but when she hears him making unorthodox remarks about the artwork she loves, her curiosity gets the better of her. 

She stood next to him and asks him for his opinion. He completely blasts it saying he doesn’t understand any of it and how he will never understand why someone would pay so much money for pieces like these. She just laughs and nods with him until she leaves. He doesn’t catch her name and she never gave it to him. So, without her name, but with a clear description (remember that he only paid close attention to her), he ask complete strangers about her. Helios is told by one of the tour guides at the museum that her name is Rhodes and she’ll more than likely be back sometime this week. 

The child who grew into a man that proclaimed that he would never stop traveling did just that. He bought a ticket everyday to go walk around the same museum. He stayed there from open to close just walking around so he could see her again. Four days later he does. Her brunette locks, he notices that there is a curl to them this time, are covering half of her features as she stares up at one of the portraits. Legs crossed, hands in her lap, and a smile he wants directed towards him

send me a topic to write a meta about my muse on

Beyond what makes her a goddess, there is a further reason on why Harmonia can’t help but be neutral and also the reason she is so close to the Titans. 

For this, I’ll start more with why she was raised by the Titans in the first place, and this was because of Hephaestus and as Harmonia was conceived in the moment Aphrodite and Ares fell into the trap Hephaestus built, causing Harmonia to be where his anger could fester, which proved true as he was the one that cursed her and her family on her wedding day. In the myth it speaks that Aphrodite gave Harmonia to Electra to look after so she couldn’t be found by Hephaestus, and Aphrodite knew where Harmonia was, sometimes in the myths, visiting her daughter in disguises. There is also this fact, where better to hide a daughter from an Olympian, but with the Titans?

Electra was the daughter of Atlas and Pleione, and with how involved the two grandparents were in their children’s lives, they were as well in their grandchildren’s. Harmonia was raised believing that Atlas was her grandfather, Epimetheus and Prometheus her uncles. There’s already some headcanons in place on how such a life went, how they discovered that she was a goddess of harmony, which she was named for. 

( And how to discover your powers: it is said that Helios was carrying the baby by the window where it stormed, however, as they walked past, the stormed ceased, which was then followed by Helios lifting the girl out the door and back inside, watching the storm go in and out, and shouting to Atlas that they had another sun baby, Atlas being the one to tell him that he sounded ridiculous and that she was a goddess of peace. )

It is through this childhood that is she so close to the Titans in this life, works so closely for Prometheus and Epimetheus, but also taking in Deimos and Phobos, perhaps all in a silent attempt to believe she is close to the family she strives for in this life.

She lived happily, as any child could, especially in such a large of family, and especially one that hard their hardships, though she never knew of her parentage, why she didn’t have a father and only her mother and so many uncles and aunts, who all knew of her true heritage, of her blood. Imagine how they saw her as she played with the others, just a young girl not knowing who she was, but it was also her nature to bring people together in an accord.

Rather, it was when she was arranged to be married that she discovered her parentage, seeming all in one day. And due to her being a goddess and with their timeline, she was still such a child when she was arranged to be married, enough that this is where her childhood ended (just as it did in her life as Millicent Leone). In the myth, it was in the days before the wedding when she was crying her room when it is Aphrodite that comforts her while under her last disguise. It was there that she learned who she was, when she could no longer live in the home of Electra, but on earth, in Thebes, when she could no longer avoid the eye of Hephaestus, which is to say, she was finally cursed. However, it was only after her own curse that she got to know her family.

“You should shine with all of your light all the time.” ― Garth Stein, The Art of Racing in the Rain

@solorieturx

Time was slipping through Rose’s fingers with everyday that passed by. The Duke had found out about Rose losing the women who were suppose to be keeping a close eye on her. Technically, those women had lost Rose, but her godfather would never admit to such a thing. These women were hand chosen because each one lack the spirit that Rose had. Neither of them questioned his authority nor would any of them dare talk back to him. He had women under his control who bowed their heads, smiled when they were suppose to, and were just seen rather than heard. The perfect examples of what Rose should aspire to. More like perfect examples of why Rose ran every chance that she could. 

A rock lay on her palm, forgotten about as Rose thought of the words she overheard only hours ago. She needs a husband. She needs a man to set her straight. She needs to be done with this foolishness. She needs. What did the Duke know of her needs? The rock that Rose held was thrown at the water with such a force that the sound of it hitting the water’s surface echoed around her. “A husband. I do not need a husband. You need power. You need wealth. You need another connection. It is all about you.”  Her fingers curled against her palm, agitation unmistakeable with ever syllable that formed the words that left her mouth. What right did he have to say such things? To decide her fate? That is right, he had it all because he was a man and she was but a young woman with her head in the clouds who could not make decisions on her own. Silly Rose; Naive Rose; Disobedient Rose; Childish Rose; Ungrateful Rose. 

Rose kicked at the water that was near her feet. If she were a man she would be allowed to raise her fist in anger and strike him for what he said. If she were a man none of these things would be said to her in such a chastising and belittling manner. If she were a man- but she was not a man. This place was suppose to be her escape; where she was at ease. The Duke could take away the time she spent alone and the king could take away the privilege to roam the docks freely, but neither would take this away from her. It was not their’s to take nor was it her’s. An untouched creak surrounded by trees that guarded all those who sought its refuge. Encircled by some force that made her heart rate lower and for the tension she held to dissipate. This place had an affect on Rose since the night Hadrian brought her here. His place. Their place. But, their place had not been used for them. Most nights she found a way out of the Duke’s home and headed here. She sat beside the creak and waited. It was against all that she stood for but she had waited for him many nights ago. Waited to see if the man who all saw as a traitor would be here. He saw her, saw her when she wished the world would not, and saw her when she wished the world would. It was terrifying yet comforting. To have someone see her rather than the woman her godfather wished her to be was still something she was coming to terms with. 

He had stopped coming or something kept him from coming. She stopped hoping that she would see him. The nights here became a time for her to let all that troubled her to carried down by the creak. She was alone just like she had always been. Except she wasn’t. A rustling of branches and their leaves caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. Her hand reached down for the rocks that were beside her feet. A few she held in her left hand as she followed who or what was making the noise. It was reckless to provoke whatever it was, but with how the city had been these past few months Rose could not afford to brush this off as nothing more than the wind. She chose the heaviest of stones, one that felt almost familiar as she palmed into her right hand. Without any words, but with all the force she had Rose threw the stone at the outline of whatever was too close for comfort. 

Politics didn’t matter here. Titles didn’t matter here. This place was timeless and consistent and now more than ever Hadrian needed that consistency. He needed a place that was still untouched by the horrors occurring in the capital so that he could forget what his life had come to. He could look at the trees surrounding him and remember a time when he was small enough to climb their limbs, bold and undeterred, feeling as if he could touch the sky if he managed to climb just a little higher. Nothing seemed impossible back then, and as much as Hadrian wanted to revert back to those days, he knew he couldn’t. Not anymore.

He couldn’t forget that he was fighting a war against friends, nor forget that those he considered to be his brothers and sisters were the ones who delivered him to the dungeons, the ones who beat him, restrained him, and tortured him all in the hopes of retrieving a little sliver of information on the Titans and their headquarters. He couldn’t forget any of it because he was surrounded by the evidence every day, but at least here he had a hope of escaping it and the hope of seeing Rose, the only person who seemed to anchor him when it seemed like the tempest storm would send him drifting off into dark waters. She kept him grounded and reminded him of all the things he wanted to be before this war.  

He hadn’t seen Rose since before his arrest when their meetings here became a regular thing, and it wasn’t until Percival gave him permission to leave his bed and roam freely that he was able to venture off into the woods and find his hidden creek again. He told himself not to get his hopes up-- surely the chances that she would still come here and that he’d see her were slim at best, but it didn’t stop his heart from sinking when he caught sight of the creek but still saw no signs of Rose. It was then that he felt a sharp pain on the back of his head, causing him to cry out before immediately reaching behind to feel the gash that was now left directly above the scar he already had there. He spotted the stone that hit him as it was now rolling to stop directly in front of his feet where he saw that it had the slightest imprint of a seashell on it. It was an oddity given how far from the sea he was, and it gave him such an overwhelming sense of deja vu that he could almost ignore the fact that a stone was just launched at him. Somehow he knew that when he’d turn to see where it came from he’d see the outline of a woman, and not just any woman.

“Rose?” he called, trudging his way through the brushes to get a closer look at his aggressor. “Holy hell, woman. Where did you learn to throw like that? A few inches lower and I’d probably be on the floor paralyzed.” He was being dramatic, and the grin that played on his lips said he knew as much when he finally stood before her. “I must admit I was hoping for a slightly less violent welcome, but I suppose it’s better than no welcome at all.”

Helios & Rhodes acting like a married couple since the beginning moodboard @solorieturx

Bonus: