#morospara

Moros didn't believe her. What kind of behavior was that, anyway. Was this woman wanting to test his patience? The god that could kill her by simply telling his sisters to snip her string of fate "Escaped, you say?" How did something like that manage to happen, actually? Moros turned his attention somewhere else "Perhaps there needs to be more protections, to prevent that happening again." Though as Oraia thought back to her wild night of fun, the memories projected themselves automatically to his mind. Moros blinked, seemingly unimpressed by the goings on with Oraia little outing.

His arms moved to cross under his chest as she siad it was a pleasure to meet him "Is that right? Oraia. Do not free the souls for your trists..." He then pointedly said, clearly not amused. It may not look like much, to her. But such interference in the great beyond, would introduce chaos. If the soul had wondered away from her and made exit from the Duat that was. Moros was not in charge of that, necessarily. As his role was primarily to keep Chaos at bay. He was the Key to the first beings Prison. Though, perhaps this too, was also just another plan of his. It was fate, of course, that lead Oraia to do such a thing. It was he who wrote it down in the Book of Fate. Perhaps to impart this very lesson on her 'nature'.

One could absolutely argue, Moros was just playing a game. In his boredom he might, or might not have, tempted the beckoning of Chaos to once more be free of his cage.

Moros dropped down, wincing in pain as the pulsing mark throbbed. Mortals, Zeus, Elpis, Prometheus, all of them were fools. Tossing his head back and forth he mutters under his breath, before a hand is placed on his forehead “Moros, there you are...We were looking for you, brother.”  Moving his eyes up to the form in front of him, he noticed three figures, The Fates were standing there. They huddled around him, whispering to each other about finally having been able to locate him, and shhing him as he tried to talk. Elpis was not a sister to him, like these three had been. He was very close to these three after all, and always fighting with the other. One of the Fates commented on the glow coming from his chest  “Don't touch it!” He snapped, slapping their reaching hand away from him.

At some point it seemed he'd fallen asleep, and with a bit of trouble the three sisters had moved him out of Erebus and back toward the underworld where they had all once been to work on the threads of fate. Moros could feel them hovering around him. Then he could hear them whispering about how to make the situation better. Then to each other about if Moros was no longer allowed to write in his book. Opening his eyes a little bit, he looked over toward the whispering, his eyes closing again “ Forget about what I am able to do. You have your own duties.” He says in a commanding tone. How long had he been hiding in Erebus?  Pushing himself up a bit he was caught by one of the sisters who pushed him back down “ You are to rest now. We will figure out how to fix this damage.” The elder of the three fates said.

Moros didn't know how long he'd been sleeping then, but soon there was a boom and then a shout. His eyes shot open as he recognized the voice. It was Zeus, clearly unhappy about a decision that was made and was now too late to stop. Moros appeared near Zeus “I have told you, these things cannot be undone. You must understand that. " Zeus didn't seem to be at all worried about Chaos though. And for good reason, Moros guessed, since Zeus had the ability to at least defeat Chaos, to some extent? Or perhaps he didn't and Chaos was just messing with the King of The Gods. Moros rolled his eyes just thinking about it.  Zeus was one of his least favorites. Always stirring the shit, that one. But it was at that moment that Moros had realized that some of the pain in his chest was gone, or actually, a lot of it. Looking himself over he moves some fabric away from the wound, and finds something scrawled over his chest.

But before he can say anything else to Zeus, the other had kicked him off Olympus, again. Once he was in the Underworld again he went to go find his brothers. Wanting to see what they had been up to in his absence. Of course it was probably the same things, death, sleep... Causing pain and misery. There was always some war going on somewhere. Moros was able to locate Thanatos and Hypnos pretty easily after a few minutes. Appearing beside Hypnos, who was sitting on the ground asleep, but looked to be overseeing a battle down the hill “Hm.” Taking a seat next to the other he watched the battle. It was a bloody one. He could spot his other siblings doing their jobs on the battlefield, and smirked a bit. It was always fascinating to watch things he'd written play out.  Suddenly Hypnos' head lifted up and he looked around in confusion before looking at Moros “ Oh,  you are back.” Hypnos whispered before scooting closer to Moros.

“They said you were dead.”  His voice was light and tired, Moros noted. His eyes ran over the sleepy male, who was soft looking, small and weak, from not using his muscles a lot. Moros smiled as they rest their head against his shoulder “ Well, I am glad you are not dead...” The other mumbled their eyes closing “ Mhm.” Hypnos' arms wrapped around his arm then, a hand grabbing onto his “ You should take a nap, too. It's going to be a long one, I can just tell.” Hypnos says, with a grin before seeming to completely doze off back to sleep. Moros looked back over the battlefield, feeling uncomfortable about something all of a sudden. But he didn't have enough time to try and figure it out as a dusting rose all around him and he started to doze off to sleep.

He was in darkness. A glowing chain lay out in front of him, it stretched out into the darkness seeming to have no end. When he went to move though, he'd found he couldn't. Panic had begun to rise in his chest. He squirmed as he looked down, seeing his entire body was wrapped in the same exact chains. His mouth was sealed shut, preventing him from letting out a shout. In the darkness screams had begun to reach him, from a distances in the darkness.  Twisting a bit, he felt a searing pain as his body rubbed against the bright chains. A voice entered his mind then, or was it more that it entered the space he was in. Moros narrowed his eyes as the voice spoke to him “How does it feel, Moros, being unable to control things?” The voice had asked, with an amused and confident tone.

“Elpis has been proving herself to be very useful to me, when it comes to you.” Moros sighed, Elpis, of course. When were they going to stop using her to fight him? The voice started up again a moment later “So willing to help save the world from you, and your kind, she wants to help, you know. ” Moros rolled his eyes “You, hateful god, hateful Moros. Always hated for what you are, instead of who.But something like you should not exist, does not deserve to exist. And all it takes is this hopeful girl, and the problem of you is easy to take care of. Her creation has truly been a blessing, for me.  You will rot in this box. You should hope that you never escape it. ” And with that the voice had silenced. Moros stared off into the darkness, not really understanding what the voice had been meaning to say with that last part. But he would definitely get out again, he’d known that much.

Slowly, it began to occur to the god that this was a dream. All this time it had just been a dream. But before he could wake himself up from it his eyes closed, in the dream.  What seemed like moments later, he was running. Others were running by him as he slowly came to a stop. Looking up then he noticed a bright split in the darkness over his head “Huh.” But before he could pay any more attention to it he’d heard a shout. Then a voice begging to be helped. To not be left there. He recognized their voice, anger began to fill him, then. How much he had hated the one attached to it, for what they did to him. The one who helped put him here. The one who could stop him.  The one who marked him with this bright stain on his chest, pulsing with their power, keeping the mortals from seeing him. He turned to step toward that voice. His right hand flicked out, he was going to kill them.

Then someone grabbed his arm  “Don't…”  Moros froze then and looked over toward the person  “We must go now, or we will be trapped here, with her!” Turning away then he glared back over his shoulder.  “Dammit, Elpis…” Running again, he followed the other evils out of the darkness and back into the world. Upon stepping out he watched as others fled the scene. Turning his gaze to someone a moment later, his eyes resting on a woman beside him. His mind instantly telling him who this was Pandora, the girl who kept an eye on the box, and ultimately the one who had freed them. He gave her a small nod then turned and walked away, quickly vanishing. He reappeared soon in the darkness between Earth and The Underworld, Erebus.

Dropping down onto the bed in his home there, he let out a sigh “It's her own fault.”  He told himself. When out of the darkness something stabbed into his chest. Gripping onto the arm attached to the weapon he gasped, his vision blurred. Turning his head up to see who had attacked him as impossible as they were covered by the dark “How...” He managed, something filtering into his body.

He was born into one of the most wealthy families in America, the Doom family.  As the only child, his parents pampered him, taught him that he had to be ruthless and take whatever he could, as well. He did not waste his time forming relationships, you either decided to be his friend, or you were just one of the scum that would be possibly be working for him one day.

But right at this moment,  he was  asleep on his bed. He looked absolutely at peace as he slept. But you wouldn't of been able to tell, because it was so god damn dark in the room.  The floor was a dark black, the walls were a dark black. He had curtains that were just as black.  Even in the middle of the day, the room could turn into a dark zone.  He embodied that rebellious color like it was meant for him. And it also happen to be his favorite color.  The only thing he wore was a pair of black boxer briefs, as he slept.

Suddenly though an alarm went off and the walls lit up with a few rings of light,  dropping down from the ceiling for a few seconds before the ceiling light came on, the walls  turning into screens " Time to get up for school, sir." Came a robotic voice. Moros made a face at this and stayed on his bed for a moment before sitting up, placing his head in his hand and letting out a groan " I can't wait." He mumbled. He didn't like being made to attend school like one of those normal students. But homeschooling was just too difficult for him, honestly. He was easily distracted by things he thought to be 'more important' than his studies. His father put a stop to that nonsense by threatening him.

Sliding out of the bed he drops onto the floor , dropping his head back onto the bed " I feel sick, I think I might have a fever." He sighed. There was a sound in the room before the house spoke again " You appear to be fine, sir. You have fifty-five minutes before school."   Sluggishly he dropped away from the bed " Bitch."  He groaned then pushes himself up.  Standing he yawns and runs his hand through his hair, his other hand moving down a moment later, hooking onto his boxer briefs then as he heads for the bathroom. Slipping them off and tossing them into a basket.

A few moments later he was out of the shower, a toothbrush swishing in his mouth as he adjusts the buttons on his black shirt, pulling out the bottom over his pants, making him look the right type of trash before he had to leave for  his classes.  Running a hand through his damp hair he nods " Perfect." Walking back into the bathroom he spits the toothpaste into the sink and then swishes some mouthwash, spits it out too, before swishing water around and spits it into the sink as well.

Placing the toothbrush back into it's resting spot he turns sharply and walks out of the room " Ten minutes before classes." Says the robotic voice " Right right. " Moros hisses as he walks  out of the room and through the hallway "  I can tell time." " Oh, can you, sir? I didn't know." Moros pauses and looks up  " Don't get smart with me." " It's hard not to." Growling for a moment he turns and walks into the living room. Walking toward the door he slips on his sneakers, black like the rest of his outfit. Grabbing a backpack he slips it over one shoulder and opens up

Now, if this were any other sort of situation. Someone happening to see a young male writing in a book might of mistaken that male for perhaps writing a story, or maybe something like that. Though you could suppose that that was the case, anyway. Because for Moros, this was a story he was writing. He could not stop himself from writing it either. He seemed to just become taken over by some other force when he was writing. Fate wasn't an easy thing to have control over. Being the one who wrote it was not exactly the easiest job in the world.

Lifting his hand up from the book he closes it with his other " You three should be working." He says, then slowly turns away from the table he was sitting at. Standing up he looks up  toward the ceiling and watches as streams of light green swirl over their heads " This one looks like it is swaying a little bit." He blinked then looked away. The threads of fate were obviously very important. Without them, there would be chaos, and the world, and going so far as even the entire universe would all implode on itself, because reasons. 

A long while passed, a few weeks, maybe, before Moros had returned from his business with the underworld. Stepping across the bedroom. He watched the girl laying in the bed sleep. Slowly he moved to her side and sat down next to her. Lifting his hand he moved it over to her stomach. Resting it on the girls side and moving his hand over. She had gotten bigger. He noticed this. Tilting his head he studied the woman " Hm. " He could tell she hadn't gotten rid of the thing inside her. Not yet anyway. It was probably too big for her to now do so with out later feeling like a monster. But, who knows, Moros wasn't an expert.