#arcadiapnr

ＦＯＲＢＩＤＤＥＮ ＦＲＵＩＴ

Loki and Artemis

Normally, Jongin thrived on the facets of action, of living in some kind of whirlwind of attention and hedonism. It was what he tended to thrive in, the life that he’d grown up with and a settled way of his life that he generally tended to never give up. The demigod was selfish in many ways, there was no argument against that or to dispute as such, but he paid very little mind to the way he was perceived by others or the issues his self-involvement presented him with.

But every now and again even Jongin decided that he needed to be somewhere a little more quiet than a raucous club or bar, and on those days he tended to find himself wandering around near the forest surrounding Arcadia. While he tended to deal with his given power in the way of getting drunk and occasionally turning simple water into wine, there was also the effect of the vines he could create that he often simply ignored. As far as he was concerned, he didn’t find much of a use for the whole situation.

When he made it to the edge of the forest, however, he allowed himself to relax and focus on it a bit. A vine sprouted from the ground, only taking a few moments to come to fruition and develop small black grapes. There was something oddly satisfactory about the creation of vines since it was a skill he used so infrequently, and he let out a little sigh before continuing on his leisurely walk.

arcadiapnr

There was so very few gods that resided in Arcadia, and Loki was revelling in it. Although the demigods were delicate souls, they saw none of the loopholes he left open in his plots against them, and fun as it was, they were pitiful things. In a professional setting it was difficult, and rather dull, to mess with any of the other gods that coexisted within the same working environment as him. Especially when they could see him coming. 

But Artemis couldn’t. Not when he was like this. The skirt rides awfully low on the back of his thighs, but it’s not an issue, not when he has the legs for it. The everything. It’d been a long time since he’d been physically eighteen, but he could become eighteen again whenever he pleased. It was just circumstantial that his current appearance was that of an eighteen year old daughter of Baldur, crying softly to herself outside of the goddess’ office. 

He was quick to understand people, to know what would effect them most. The physicality of things was usually the first thing, he could delve into peoples deepest fears, become fear itself, or even morph himself into something they would be most attracted to. After a week of watching Artemis, he know that her weaknesses did not lie in any of the above. To torment something so pure, you first had to mimic some of that pureness yourself. 

arcadiapnr

The path to the woods always called to her, no matter what danger it hides. Hyeri held a spear in her hand, which often reminded her of her father, and somehow she understood why she had brought it along.

This was all you. Your blood in mine.

She had never gone in the thick patch of green without being armed, without being troubled - but Hyeri certainly wasn’t surprised. It came with the territory, she thought with a soft snort, adjusting the strap of her bow and quiver on her shoulder.

She might be strong but the weight on her shoulders was great. Hyeri never spoke of it.

Her goal was to find the goddess she admired the most, and she could feel power radiate from the side of the cliff. Artemis might have heard her internal call, but she wasn’t sure. Gods could easily hide from them. She decided to try, anyway. Walking toward the cliff, she called, “Artemis,” into the air.

Hyeri wasn’t certain why Artemis had found favor in her. She didn’t like to ask about their relationships as gods - especially with her father’s reputation. It was exactly how she landed herself in the current situation: her rage, her frustrations, her innate violence.

Now, she wasn’t sure if that was her father’s fault anymore.