#plot drop 6

“My life, immortal though it be, Is naught!” she cries, “for want of thee, Persephone––Persephone!”

He was Epimetheus, the afterthought. 

Humanity tried to blame Pandora, but it was her husband, the brother of Prometheus, that knew what this evil would unleash upon the world. That Hope would follow closely behind and attempt to aid the struggling humanity when Pandora opened the jar twice. 

She was Demeter, goddess of the harvest, daughter of Titans.

When Persephone was taken, Demeter’s grief caused the earth to become barren, and winter came to be. With her daughter’s cult at its strongest, Demeter could not sit by and wait for both of the cult’s plans to finish. As it may be, she could only disrupt one. If the veil were to fall, her daughter would give up her need for vengeance. 

It was Demeter who gave power to Atalanta within the city, and in turn, she blessed the two remaining originals – Nemea and Phoenix – to fight back against the curses that had rendered them trapped. Nemea, in her lioness form, was given the direction to the caves beneath the hotel. Breaking down stone was simple enough, as she burst through in her anger and glory. 

It was Hektor who was waiting for the original, a knife to Katerina Alanis’ throat. The woman could not be changed, but that had never been the plan for the Alpha, and the knife never the real issue. It had been enough to stall Nemea, even as Hektor’s hand burst through Katerina’s chest with her heart within his palm. The bloodied organ was dropped, Hektor laughing as he escaped from the room. Nemea would give chase, though her hunt would end at the cliffside portion of the city, with the vampire no where to be found. Phoenix was left to deal with the prison itself and those that remained, his healing abilities able to fix the delusions from those who had ingested the tainted vampire blood, and the wounds the others had suffered. Once they exited the hotel, their magic was returned to them. 

The cult members who had taken the blood of the victims were gone, their faces replaced in those that had been taken with that of Hektor’s. When they recalled who was their jailer, it was Hektor– though they remembered the faces of the vampires that had taken them to the hotel. Markus, Ares, and Antony had their anonymity back. Persephone, however, had her single sacrifice. That was all she wanted, after all. Maven Lockwood lay motionless on an alter, the ruins of the temple within the caves serving as consecrated ground, who would awaken hours later with a set of fangs, heartbeat and magic gone. 

Epimetheus had received the taken blood of every different species thanks to the cult. His brother had created the veil to protect his beloved humans, and to protect the supernatural beings they had become. Epimetheus whispered to Pandora on earth that he had what he needed to repair it, and he would tell her what would happen in the near future – and what they had to do to fix it. 

Hades had his own plans. After all, Apep was on earth. With the destruction of the veil, the souls trapped within vampires would come to his underworld, where they belonged. Hades had done his part. He’d supplied a curse that he had taken from Scylla’s very essence, leaving a scar on all those affected by it. He told Apep what Epimetheus was planning, Pandora’s part in it, and what they needed to do. If Apep could bring the blood of every species within the city to Hades – they’d have a weapon of their own.

OOC information under the cut:

beth held the ice pack against will’s forehead. the swelling wasn’t too bad, but she was certain the pain would be a lot to wake up to. she had the ibuprofen waiting on the coffee table. as she listened to sound of rustling int he other rooms she mumbled the lyrics to her favorite tears for fears lyrics, “i find it hard to tell you cause i find it hard to take.” 

“hello tango, you fought well out there.” 

Hekate Einodia, lovely dame, of earthly, watery, and celestial frame, sepulchral, in a saffron veil arrayed, pleased with dark ghosts that wander through the shade.

Anastasia Vidalis had not been seen during the Masquerade. For a host that was throwing the party, there was little of her presence. While magic was clearly part of the party, those unaccustomed to it just thinking that there were simple illusions going on. The air had been calm and cool for most of the night, the night sky clear of clouds and littered with stars. 

It was nearing the height of the party – where numerous drinks had been consumed, dances that had been endless, when the doors to the balcony opened and the wind picked up with it. Out strode Anastasia Vidalis, dressed in a sleek black suit with a pair of red heels to match it. Behind her was Ava Vidalis, standing just a few feet behind her mother. The wind was strong enough to take everyone’s attention away from what they were doing, and died down the moment Anastasia’s voice rang out over the terrace and the gardens. 

“There are strangers among us. Those who would see the veil torn down. And us with it.” 

The silence that followed was deafening. Voices died down, and the look that Anastasia’s had on her features were far from the usual stoic expression that defined the Delphi leader. Her hands gripped the railing, and her eyes flashed with a hatred that she hadn’t felt since Katerina Alanis’ death. “They all are here. All of them. And they know more about us than we know about them. They shouldn’t be here. And those who can save us do little to change fate.” Her voice was filled with venom, and her knuckles were nearly white with how hard she was gripping the railing. 

Even Ava’s hand on her shoulder did nothing to calm her, and the volume of Anastasia’s voice only grew. “They’re all here! False idols who wish to destroy everything that we love. All of it. Apep and Valkyrie, those who hold no love for Greece, they would see you die.” As if on cue, wind blew upon only Ramses Runihura and Freya Ahlberg, their drinks shattering in their hands. Anastasia’s glare turned to Myles Delian and Kairos Evander, though it held little love for them as well as the table they leaned against burst into flame, caught from the candle upon it. “Hyacinth – slave to a god that cares for none of you! And Patroclus, who has little to no power to save anyone.”

“Atropos – a fate who already knows what will happen to you all. And she won’t lift a finger to help you.” As if on cue, Andromeda Metaxas’ mask shattered, doing little but causing annoyance, but Anastasia’s point was across either way. “Daphnis and Atalanta – too cowardly to show their faces here. Yet there is Psyche, a woman who did anything for love and now does absolutely nothing to save what she can.” Eneida Pantazis was shoved by a gust of wind, straight into Piper Kamra. “And Pandora. Who released the hatred and strife upon this world, and now claims to be here under false pretenses. She knows how to save you. She knows!” Her shriek only echoed as those looked on, some completely mystified by her actions, and others more terrified at the lack of control she was showing. 

In some sense of finality, Anastasia pointed directly at Rhea Diamondis, “And her. Medusa.” With a flash of light that seemingly came from nowhere, a memory was projected before Rhea. Gloved hands, a woman whose features were known to many – Scylla’s. A knife, plunged not once, but twice into the original shifter’s body. And there she was left to bleed out on Apollo’s alter. 

“They are our enemies! I have seen what they have done and I have seen what they will do.” Whether or not that was the truth, however, would remain to be seen. Anastasia’s grip on the railing weakened, fatigued by all the abilities she had gifted herself at once. Staggering away from the balcony, she screamed once more, “Kill them! Be rid of them before it is too late!” With that, she disappeared back into her home, leaving Ava Vidalis to stand there, reeling in her wake. 

Though Anastasia seemed to be the least of their problems, as the gods could not let this stand. Someone had hidden Medusa’s actions from their sight – but who? Not one to be outplayed, it was with a simple touch that Rhea placed her ungloved hands upon the two people nearest to her – Daphne Onassis and Mateo Aguilar – turning them to stone, distracting those from seeing her slip away into the crowd.

As if that wasn’t enough, the moment Ptolema Leaina and Petrichor Athanasios moved to give chase to the woman who murdered their sister, a voice echoed in their heads, pulling them to a stop. It was unfamiliar, but the old Norse language was hard to forget, “A promise.” That was all it said, and there, at the edge of the garden where the estranged siblings stood, appeared a man. They recognized their brother’s features immediately – Fenrir. 

OOC information under the cut:

The sun had begun its descent on the Fallcrest horizon, but though the morning had been one of mournful contemplation for what was lost, the night held the promise of a new beginning.