Thanatos

Horus considered those words but it was difficult to believe anything but perhaps that the great Archfey Titania, the Muses and the proclaimed goddess Keket hadn't perhaps bared the greatest burdens of all during the end. He was fond of mortals, he'd spent so long trying to help them. He wanted to believe that they were stronger than the worlds gave them credit for but Horus had been raised in a way that made it difficult. He tucked away the thoughts, promising himself to take Thanatos' words into greater consideration as he continued learning of the world around him. Arrogant as the Gods might be, Horus attempted to look past all that he had learned; his life had already proven it to him that there was more than what the Seldarine taught him.

"Hypnos and I once fought for freedom; this is not the same." Everything had a natural end; nothing was meant to persist forever; eternity wasn't built to withstand the buckling weight of all. "I'm not afraid for them, Horus, I'm proud of them, and I admire them. Billions of souls find ways of distilling such meaning from such brief periods of time. What is a century to you? A decade? To humanity, that can mean everything." Thanatos was accustomed to being misunderstood, and he would always accept as much from Horus, even if it took the form of contempt. They called it inaction, that he was a fence sitter when the great Judge was anything but. "One life ends and all their pain, darkness, and grievances are swept away. Then, someday, they get the chance to begin again. Death is not an end. This is me fighting for them, I wish you could understand that."

A warrior, once proud and noble, Horus remembered the Seldarine history with grand teachings of war and victories, many of which he'd eventually helped to make. Of confronting all their enemies and reigning victorious in the end. He could not recall stories around the holy fires and riverbanks told of running, or of being frightening away by anything other than, perhaps, the Spellplague. To look at their history in another way as Thanatos did, it was unfamiliar to him. But as he stood there in silence and thought, he realized Death had found another way of looking at things and it wasn't untrue. Every evasion of their enemies had been painted as them not needing to waste their energy. Arvandor's separation of the World Tree a symbol of independence and superiority rather than fear.

Comforts were for the cat sith, everyone loved the felines, and the reapers he'd hired were good at comforting mortal souls. Few people ever looked upon Thanatos's cold face and felt warm at the thought of being shepherded anywhere by him. Despite personifying Death in its most peaceful form, peace was not what people felt when they approached, instead after when they passed through. After they entered The Void and stepped through the door to that next adventure that was to follow. Nothing was truly immortal, elves had coined this term and decided it meant that they should never die, and while the essence of a person lasted into eternity, it was the ego that people feared losing. The Seldarine clung so hungrily to themselves that they stopped to see the fear that had shrouded them, that disquiet and resentment towards Thanatos was his oldest and most unwanted friend.

It's coming, Horus.

"Your King has been running since The First War was won, you just never wanted to see it." Thanatos would lend Horus' extensive sleep to his lapse in memory, The Seldarine had never run from anything, alas, even Horus was not immune to the arrogance that defined the creatures. Corellon Larethian had separated Arvandor from the World Tree long ago because he knew that Thanatos could not reach him there, but there were fates worse than Death and being absent from the weavings of Fate did not promote immunity to it; the spellplague was the greatest threat that they had ever faced, and the creatures of the Abyss were immune to it. "Elysia has fallen to Archfiends from the Abyss, Asgard as well." Thanatos wasn't a newspaper so Horus was fortunate that they were family. "The spellplague that ran rampant when you went to sleep has only continued to ravage the World Tree. No riddles, Horus. In your absence only but a few of the Seldarine have chosen to remain here; the rest have fled or are in hiding." And Death would come for all of them.

A slight flush overcomes the spirit, a cheeky smile and her past murderous actions were whispered into the cat sith's ear but it was an impish action to believe that he wouldn't respond, she continues to massage the cats head as it curls into her lap. "The Asphodel demands a devotion that leaves no room for self, it's written that a sacrifice is required but I fear that most don't have the complete realization that it means losing yourself in the process." It wouldn't be a co-existence to have Asphodel and Narcissus, one would devour the other and she would selfishly lose everything if the Narcissus was taken under. She meets his eyes and a sideways smile tugs at her lips that is void of mirth and reflects sadness. "There are worse things out there than death, to become a shell of what once was and to live forever only cultivating pain." She was still here and so she continued to fight for the Narcissus coven, for the coven that warmed the family dinner table and for the curious minds within. "Narcissus fear nothing, we're curious and we play with demons and spirits alike. The magic we craft isn't inherently evil because we don't just represent destruction."

"How right you are." Naturally it took a spirit to see where the line of death ended, she'd once walked down the same path as those who trailed after her. Thanatos didn't have to wonder if they would heed her warning or if they'd fall prey to their own shortfalls; Death already knew. "Those who've consigned themselves to the book, past or present, will have little choice in the matter." Unfortunate but true, power was essential to many, but too often, people forgot the significance of a soul and what it meant to sign it away to another. Their minds, their bodies, and the very center of their being belonged to the Abyss now. "It's only a matter of time before one rotten apple corrupts another, it's inevitable, really."

"That is concerning," he admitted. Horus wasn't sure exactly how much he should be concerned but it was always a concern when one of their own went missing and was reputed to be troublesome. Tiamat had never been an easy goddess to deal with and, from what little he'd been learning since waking, she had been a cause of much devastation in the ages since he'd last seen her.

Concern wasn't something Thanatos was writ with; he knew when the Deaths of all were prescribed, even his own. To that end, Thanatos had a great deal of time to prepare. "Valhalla... Elysium... The list goes on, they're all trifles, arbitrary designs with similar functions. They all began the same; someone wanted power, others couldn't let go." Artemis was strong, but she was so much like her brother in that neither of them knew when to let go. Life wasn't fair; Thanatos knew that was true, and while people always protested the contrary, Death was. It came for everyone in the end. "It's coming, Horus." The final curtain call, the end of ends. The age of the Seldarine was at its close, but where would this world be without the sky? The Sun? Without Death? The Gods had made themselves important; now, the realms depended upon them just as surely as they depended on the air, the grass, and the trees. "The Seldarine are running out of places to hide; those who could not get to Arvandor came here: you were asleep for a long time, but they're being corralled."

There was no reason not to like Thanatos; it made resenting him that much harder. Death was calm and mild. He wasn't a personality that was difficult to swallow and he wasn't a presense that overwhelmed you with discomfort or dread. Maybe it was because there was a familiar sensation to him - the remnants of his late father shining through the dark elf. Horus remember teaching the humans of as much. Just because Thanatos reminded him of pain, didn't mean that he was at fault for the circumstances of his birth. It didn't mean Horus had to hate him. The early settlers of the land that would be called Kemet and later Egypt had taken his council to heart. Now there were no grand palaces or homes leftover from that shining civilization, only tombs and monuments to the afterlife that they'd been taught to look forward to.

Gods was a term that had risen after Thanatos' birth; in life, they'd merely been rebels who chased a dream that seemed impossible. Life, freedom, autonomy, and safety... What the Seldarine became, what they still were today. Corellon Larethian held the blame, though fixed at the summit of the pantheon, a mass of unrelenting power beneath him; Thanatos understood why, even among the would-be Gods, he was venerated. Clearly, Corellon had learned from their predecessors that it was easier to worship something than to fight against it. "I'm not convinced they ever had used for them." Thanatos simply, though what went unsaid was how glad he was that Horus had awoken and returned.

Date: January, some time Location: Choose one of the many old monuments/ruins Rome has Characters: @thanatcsx & @thegodhorus Notes: awks

Horus was his son and would always be his son, and Thanatos would always see him as his son. Though Death knew well enough that the God did not feel the same. Corellon Larethian had cast Álfheimr from Arvandor long ago, a further effort to lay the distinction between the light and the dark. To keep Thanatos and Hypnos far from home, far from the light, far from friends, far from family, and far from Horus. Spite was simple, patience was more challenging, and it would be no parent's surprise to learn that when Thanatos looked upon Horus' fate and saw nothing... It was a relief. No father should ever have to bury his son. Whatever end would someday come, it would clearly claim Death before it claimed Horus.

Crowfather was turning out to be a dangerous feline friend but Valentina's hands stayed buried in their scruff still, kneading and massaging until the black cat was entirely docile and like a rag-doll. A stage whisper into the kitty's ear. "It's okay, I've taken a soul or two in my day too." Before her pursuit of wicked witchcraft extinguished all the life she had for the search of Godhood. "My business still isn't finished -- as long as the Narcissus coven remains I will be tethered and I will be needed. Not until the grave has taken them all. I'm here because of something that they say can't be done but we live in a world of magic so what really is impossibility? Kaan was taken too soon and I want him back, where do they go when they become nothing? I fear that Narcissus is going under in the name of Asphodel and we've lost too many good witches to their ranks." She wanted to see his lost pieces form into a complete silhouette, in a desperate grieving hope she wishes she could see him solidify from behind a pillar in death's realm.

"I recall." Thanatos said candidly, he didn't see the threads of those who killed, but he saw the threads of those who'd been killed, and the hands of the witch held the blade as she started down the road that so many had travelled before. "Are you not happy for them then?" It seemed a fair inquiry, "Should your coven succeed amongst the Asphodel, then they'll be free from me. Free from Death." It was a bloody means, but Valentina had died in this very same pursuit, if her goal was to see her coven's full-fledged longevity, then what did a woman who swam in so much blood in life feel about it now that she was in death? "Everything ends, eventually." All the world wanted to believe that their ideas would live forever, but forever and immortality held under a magnifying glass only equated to a very long time. "I hope you find your peace when yours comes at last."

Of course. It wasn't his place or his business, but he cared for both Nettelia and Hermes and so the Archdruid's actions still sent an uncontrolled surge of gratitude through his heart. But his fellow avariel was uncomfortable and, if truth be told, Prometheus also didn't know what he would say in regards to Nettelia. He also avidly jumped over the topic of Furies. It didn't much matter that his fear of wings and flying had been squashed with much worse trauma, the mere mention of Tisiphone or any of her sisters still made him queasy. "Well, you look good, friend," Prometheus admitted with light and wistful joy after Hermes sent Thanatos a cheeky grin. It was almost sad despite the quite genuine happiness he held for his friend. He supposed that was more to do with selfish longing for... something. Lots of things. He liked introspection and forethought but he wasn't about to go that deep into himself. So Pros nodded lightly, leaving it all at that.

If there was a moment where he could make Thanatos blush, make the god of death have a hint of red on his cheeks, he was going to do it. The two of them had been through everything at this point, and eternity was stretched before them. Whether that was this realm of Alfheimr, something would have to be done. The archfiends had taken over, gods were displaced and once again looking for demigods, and now Hermes had to deal with the traitor Megaera – and he was ready for that challenge. He could negate her power, slide his sword through her heart, and hang it on it wall. It seemed like a fair trade.

Momentarily Thanatos thought about how much joy he'd have for his realm to be flooded with divinity, so many dead Gods to throw out into the stars. That was what they deserved, their ceaseless pursuit of endless immortality had led to so much destruction, so much pain. Thanatos blinked, the brief moment of dissociation over before he commented idly, "If only." He raised his glass towards Prometheus, the year ahead was bound to be an interesting one indeed. There was more than fire behind the avariel's gaze now, more than that simmering hatred that Death was so accustomed to. He was grateful, maybe there was a chance that a cruel fate might yet be avoided. "To you then, Prometheus; to your days ahead, may your well never run dry. Also, to an excellent dinner, if I do say so myself." In natural order, Thanatos stood, wine did always go to his head, made him thoughtful and perhaps a tad emotional. "I think I've given myself a headache though, so I'll retire and leave you two to it."

"Yeah yeah, you always say that. To everyone. No one has forgotten you exist, Than. You don't need to worry about it." Death was a broken record; it happened all the time, and Apollo wasn't about to give him any more spotlight than need be. "Isn't it? I've been told I have kind eyes and a nice heart. Anyway, neighbors? I was thinking it'd be nice. Is your weird brother still around?"

"You could have fooled me, my invitation to your birthday party seemed to have gotten lost in the mail." Artemis' too, it was rude really, just downright insulting, at least these Romans were bringing him places. That cannibalism party, now the rave for the dead Santa or whatever. Thanatos would bring Crowfeather- maybe Hermes, he supposed. "Was it you who said those things?"

"So how's the neighborhood? Alfheimr. Does it have a lot of good space? I usually prefer really big pillars, lots of cloud, a lot of sun. I know it's a whole dark realm thing, but I think I could be a beacon of hope in trying times." Apollo waved his hand now, sighing as the other mentioned beer, "I know, but I prefer wine and I know you're a bit of a dabbler in wine making. Thought I'd help out."

"You'll see it again, briefly." Death came for everyone eventually, the Gods and their desire for immortality, everything had an end, even the young deity in front of him; especially his father. The wine stayed untouched in front of him but Death appreciated the gesture, even if he didn't show it. "That's surprisingly considerate of you."

Death was a concept much like the moon's changing of the tides, inevitable and neither good nor bad. If anyone knew there were things far worse than death it was the twice-punished-avariel. War made losses; Nettelia had been vocal in her wishes and Epimetheus had also volunteered to risk everything. Every soul in that battle had made their choice and so Thanatos hadn't taken from Prometheus selfishly and cruelly but as nature dictated. He had had his years to make peace with that, to find the difference between the cruel bias of the Gods and the work of chance. There was also the strong affection and trust he held for Hermes; how his friend would never settle for a God like Ulthar or those others that he had rebelled against at the cost of his wing. Thanatos himself had other very clear moments of bias and selfishness, as it seemed all the divine and mortal did, but Prometheus could not ask for perfection. It was not enough to make an enemy out of the demigod as he watched the way the god of death reached out for Hermes' hand.

Hermes always felt slightly warm from the touch of Death, like Thanatos had always been there. And in some way, he had. Death was a natural part of life, the god of the darkness, of Alfheimr, there was no one else the avariel could truly see himself being with. The other had done him the last mercy that many probably would not have been able to do. Hermes had been there, sort of, but a prisoner in his own body, forced to watch the world end – Thanatos had done only what a Great Love probably could.

At the mention of the act of healing, Thanatos squeezed Hermes' hand, he knew the nature of the avariel was to dance around the topic whenever possible. Nobody wanted attention drawn towards what had been such a definably traumatic event, all the same, it was good to see his lover rejuvenated. Hermes had taken to walking taller, less of a grouch and a slouch and more of- well, himself, Thanatos supposed. He was no longer defined by what had happened to him, but instead by where he was headed, together.

It was far from the first time that she had been ignored, a resigned type of fate and she wondered how frayed her tether to this realm had become. Rarely needed her powers of invisibility as she was out of sight and out of mind for the Narcissus witches that she tended too with such a devotion. It was starting to make her feel sick and she wanted to give in to the afterworld if they didn't want her any longer. A position within the senate was a good step for being recognized but it was her coven's recognition that she needed.

To see Crowfeather in the arms of another was troubling, but for the moment Thanatos spared the spirit - Valentina, yes, that was her name. He spared Valentina his anxieties if only because the cat sith seemed quite content. "Careful, this one consumes souls." Likely a reason why Crowfeather had taken to her so immediately, "This is a bit of an unfortunate place, you'll get lost here if you aren't careful. Is that what you want?" Spirits as Thanatos understood it had unfinished business, surprisingly he wasn't an expert which was why he'd outsourced through the reapers, but he was learning. It was part of the job now.

@thanatcsx

"I don't have a phone." Thanatos said simply before he conjured a pair of goblets for Apollo to dispense his wine into, Death could be bribed. It was unfortunate what had happened to the God, the first time was his own fault, but being denied Uthenera? Well, that was Thanatos having something of a tantrum. He could only be patient in regards to Apollo and the rest of his kin's inane desire to live forever... For so long. "Hasn't Hermes told you? I prefer beer but this will do." Apollo was a slippery one, tying the avariel's life to his own? Clever indeed.