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Darkseeker
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Kyrie frowned as Jason started talking to one of the boys in the crowd, one he thought he'd pushed past a while before, trying to get onto the field. Then everything was moving so quickly, and he had been selected to go, but they were leaving now. Most of the men would not even return to their homes to gather any weapons, tunics, or anything. They would follow their new leader, Jason, down to the boats which waited in the cerulean harbor. He was a bit uneasy about the whole ordeal all of a sudden. The king seemed awfully smug for having given a quest to his son, especially when the chances of success were low. Not only that, but Jason knew about the prophesy of his birth, which didn't surprise him, but the fact that this leader wanted him, when he was literally fated to die in some kind of battle was concerning. Was Jason hoping victory would come through his death? He certainly hoped not, he still wanted to do something amazing before he died. He started to trail down the path after the group of men, eyeing the less conventional choices, such as the winged men who stayed close to Jason, and a few steps behind was an inconspicuous young man, but Kyrie was well versed in princes, and recognized him as Peleus. He had known Peleus when he was younger, but had fully fallen out of touch with him. He vaguely remembered something about the man being destined to have a son who would be the best of the Greeks. Kyrie was also startled to see a woman, which seemed odd, but he was pulled from his thoughts as someone fell into step with him. As always, the first thing mentioned was the prophesy. To his surprise, he wasn't even that irritated. The boy asked him point-blank about it, rather than skipping around it, trying to coax him into bringing it up on his own. He shrugged.
"Yep. I suppose that's what happens when you have a god for a parent." He paused. "Apollo. Though...I suppose he wasn't the one to bless me, so it doesn't really make sense."
He laughed lightly.
"Ares sent Eileithyia to my mother at my birth, and there's a whole scroll filled with it. I used to know the whole thing, but I don't remember the precise wording. I'm destined to die, though. Raised for the battlefield. Fated to die in some great conflict. But before that, I'm supposed to do great things."
Kyrie let a beat of silence pass.
"I don't really believe it. The great things part, I mean. I could believe that I was born to die." |
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Lightbringer
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Orsion was rather bold in his questions and it was a bit surprising to him to see that the other was... not even irritated. He figured he'd likely gotten those questions often. But instead... he answered it dutifully. A small twinge pricked at his own heart at Kyrie's words. The nonchalant shrug of stating that when one had a god for a parent--as if that were normal. Orsion's nose crinkled just slightly before he shook his head lightly. "Bah, everyone is destined to die," he waved his hand to the group, "that's what makes us human and them gods. They are the immortal, we are not," his hand fell to his side with a faint sweep and a sigh. He kept his own emotions in and focused on the other young man. "That's a lot of names though, a rather strange set of circumstances. Born of one god, blessed by another, claimed by a war god--by the war god nonetheless," Orsion commented, one hand on his hip as he walked alongside Kyrie. "I would be far more inclined to believe that your prophecy will come true than anything else. I suppose that was why you were competing in the games, eh?" The more information he gathered was the more he knew and could work with considering the group. Up ahead, Jason and Heracles seemed to be locked in with a few others over a map. There were a few others who were simply doing their own thing and others who were also in conversations. Whatever it was, Orsion wasn't sure he wanted to jump right in. He had figured out that knowing stuff made one powerful. People wanted power and relied on it and Orsion found that aspect of knowledge to be terribly exhausting. More often than not, he feigned ignorance to help him slide on by. |
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Darkseeker
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Kyrie tilted his head, glancing sideways at Orsion as he walked. His earlier unease hadn’t fully subsided, but this boy’s boldness was a welcome distraction. The comment about everyone being destined to die startled him into a dry laugh. “Fair enough,” Kyrie said after a moment, though his tone was edged with something darker. “But most don’t have their deaths predicted in such detail. Or have to live with it being whispered about at every turn.” His gaze flicked forward, watching the heir and Heracles animatedly debating over the map. “And it’s not every day you’re told your whole existence is to die for glory’s sake. It takes some getting used to.” He fell silent for a moment, considering Orsion’s other remarks. His lips twitched into a faint, sardonic smile. “Strange circumstances are a bit of a family tradition, I suppose. Mortals make their offerings; gods meddle in our lives, and here we are.” He let his eyes linger on the others in their group—Heracles with his towering frame, the winged men who looked like they’d stepped out of a painting, and Jason with his fiery determination. “I’m not the only one here with a tangled lineage, though. Seems our dear leader has a talent for finding the odd and fated.” Orsion’s question about the games heartened him significantly. “Yes, I was competing. Had to do something to stand out. A prophecy doesn’t mean much if no one believes in it, even if the one it was made about doesn't believe it. I'm surprised Jason did, it's pretty common for a child of a god to have a prophecy made, especially at birth. The only reason I'm different is that it wasn't the godly parent that claimed me. Anyways, if I’m meant for greatness before I die, I’d rather speed things along. Become great and move on. It's really odd to live your life knowing that the greatest moment of your life will be will be the one where you lose it.” He walked in silence for a moment, letting the sun warm his skin.
"But enough of that. What about you? You also have a godly parent?"
He genuinely was curious but he also was slightly guarded. The most curious people could also be the most deadly enemies, and he was't keen on handing out all his personal life without getting something in return, and this was a way to pass the time on the walk down to the piers. |
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Lightbringer
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Orsion tipped his head lightly. That was true. Most of them had their deaths predicted but not in detail nor did they have it spoken to them in detail. It was usually depicted in stories and regaled in plays after the fact. His eyes flicked back toward Kyrie, studying this newfound companion. "No... no, I suppose he has the least tangled lineage out of us all," Orsion murmured dryly before shaking his head with a loose shrug. His parent? Well, it wasn't exactly one of those things that he was proud of but it was there. "Poseidon is supposedly my father," Orsion commented flatly with a shake of his head, "which, considering I can't drown, is a rather compelling story." His hand lifted up to rub the back of his neck. "But there was no fanfare, no prophecy, nothing. Just... me. Dunno who my mother was either, just appeared one day and got passed around families and whatnot for prestige." He shook his head. "As prestigious as Poseidon can be--he's got to have at least a thousand kids running around right now. It's not like I'm anything special." His eyes flicked up toward Kyrie once again, studying his skin. The way he almost seemed to drink in the sunlight and sunshine, basking in the warmth. His golden hair was loose and seemed like actual gold. It was almost no question who his godly parent was, there was no way he couldn't be anything other than Apollo's child.
Which was lucky, considering Apollo's usual lack of being able to get any attention. Orsion shook his head clear of his thoughts and turned to look down toward the piers. "Have you been away from the isle before?" Orsion had been, briefly, to the isle of Ithaca. It was dull and boring and he was so glad it was only a week trip. |
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Darkseeker
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Kyrie laughed.
"Touché," He said cheerfully. "Children of the gods are awfully common. Sometimes I wish that my mother's husband would have just claimed me as his own. I mean, we look nothing alike, but he *is* a king. They would have just taken his word for as long as he was alive, and then they could've thrown someone else at the throne. It's not like I'll be around long enough to be a problem." He didn't miss the way that it seemed his companion was sizing him up, not necessarily cruelly, but curious and analytical. Kyrie wasn't unaccustomed to be looked at—he was the child of a handsome god after all—but there was something different about this untarnished honestly that intrigued him. He smirked, tipping his head back to let the sunlight play across his face, only showing off a little. "My mother...she used to say that the sun loved me because of him," he said, lazily gesturing towards the sky. "I hated it. It annoyed the other kids so much. No one likes a kid who's cherished by the gods. Especially when they have a so-called 'bright' future." He listened carefully to the words spoken to him, his eyes closing for a brief moment. "That's hard. To be so unanchored. Though perhaps more love gifted. I only really had my mother, until she passed."
He shrugged.
"Anyways, the games seemed like a good way to keep moving, start playing with the Fates." At the question, his expression shifted, a spark of excitement flashing across his features.
"Not really. Not far anyways. To villages and stuff, but that's about it. I guess this is my first real grand adventure," he said in an airy tone. "And you? Have you gone anywhere interesting? I hear Troy is lovely, especially during the harvest." He looked out, finally able to catch a glimpse of the distant glimmer of the sea stretching out in front of them. It only heightened the mix of emotions deep in his stomach. He wasn't sure whether he was going to throw up, or whether this was going to be the best day of his life. Kyrie flicked a golden curl out of his eyes, brightening even further as they came up to the piers, the boats looming in front of them. "I wonder which one is the one we'll take. Or if there's more than one ship?" |
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Lightbringer
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A king. Imagine that. Orsion watched the young man for a silent moment before shaking his head. This young man was, in theory, a prince. Of all things. From the highest of statuses to whatever Orsion was. Nowhere near a prince that was for sure. His eyes softened slightly as he spoke of his mother and briefly, Orsion took in the words. Imagine to have that, something... like that. "Bah, I was more trophy than child," he responded with a wave of his hand, as if brushing the subject aside. The games. Two of them were messing with the Fates it seemed and neither of them--well that was a lie. Kyrie was probably getting close to what he wanted. Orsion? Walking the opposite direction because some guy said he should. Wow, that sounded really stupid when he broke it down like that. "I'd assume it's the large and foreign ship in the harbor," Orsion gestured to the dark wood of the boat with one hand. "Y'know, the Argo? It's supposed to be the strongest boat around. Guess we're going to put that to the test," he let out a rough chuckle, his head tipping back slightly. "But I visited Ithaca once. It was... alright. Sure, it was beautiful and all but it was largely boring. Not a single fun thing happens in Ithaca." He shook his head lightly, scoffing idly. "But hey, Jason managed to make it all the way here from ... wherever Charon is. I heard that initially Charon was his father, I'm assuming that was actually false. I'm sure Pelias feels real stupid now," his green gaze swiveled back to look at the large Amphitheater. "Yeah, I'm sure he does. We'll see what actually happens, I guess," he turned back around and took in a deep breath of salty sea breeze. As much as he hated to admit it, it filled him with a sort of peace. Whatever was going to happen would probably go down in history. Probably. Orsion glanced back toward Kyrie and flashed him a slightly sharp smile. "Looking a little sea-sick already there, Sunbeam?" |
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Darkseeker
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Kyrie frowned slightly, intrigued by the words. "A trophy rather than a child?" He repeated. It made sense for Orsion. Kyrie wished he could say it for himself, but it had rather been the opposite. He'd been too much of a child to his mother, who had tried for so long to keep him from the fate that the gods had chosen for him, no matter how much his true father had argued with her, and Leander had pleaded with her. He'd been too much of a trophy to the gods, who wanted him to become their little puppet, showing off the power of the gods that remained. "Argo," He said with distaste. "How very quaint, that they would pick a word that means 'swift.' They couldn't have been any more clever? If this quest is truly destined to be blessed by the gods to go down in history, then I truly hope they come up with a better name. It would be humiliating for this to be a key feature in it."
He knew he was being a little harsh already, but Kyrie was not a fan of the water, and anything based off it. Except this new boy, who currently only had one flaw, and that was not one that he chose, nor did it sound like he would have. Being a demigod was not easy, nor was it always fun. Kyrie grimaced as he stepped onto the boat. He was not a fan of open ocean, for so many reasons that he would need more than two hands to count them all out. He peeked over the edge, his bronzed skin paling slightly at the simple harbor water below the boat. He wrinkled his nose, trying to be polite. He knew better than to say anything that might turn the gods against the voyage, but that didn't stop him from sending up a quick prayer to his father, as well as any wind gods within hearing distance that the journey would be smooth and not as tumultuous as he was feeling that it would be. His mind flashed to the day of his mother's drowning, when the sea seemed to swallow her whole. His stomach dropped and he dug his nail into the railing of the ship, trying to keep his balance as it swayed in the slow currents of the harbors. He vaguely heard his new companion say something, and wished that he wasn't feeling like he might puke if he even opened his mouth, because he really wanted to respond with something snippy and curt, but the other boy had a point. He was a son of the sun and the soil, and was about to be severely out of his element. |
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Lightbringer
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Either he was slightly deaf or he wasn't quite sure he believed him, Orsion wasn't sure which of the two Kyrie was. He simply just repeated what Orsion had just said without too much thought to it. Orsion shook his head lightly and turned his attention to the boat as they stepped up onto it. His hand stretched out, running along the wooden banister and railing. Now this... this was a finely crafted ship. Absolutely incredible. The wood blended with the smell of the salty breeze to create a rather intricate experience that Orsion enjoyed. His sea legs were there almost immediately, steadying himself on the swaying while the demigod of Apollo stumbled and swayed to stay near the railing. A shorter snort escaped from him as he leaned against the railing. He wouldn't be doing too much of the sailing, Jason seemed to have a mighty fine crew. He was probably there for good luck and all of that. Poseidon wouldn't drown his own son--he definitely would but whatever made them feel better. Orsion's green gaze settled on the warm blue waters that slowly trickled over the rocky beach that they were anchored near. His arms resting over the banister with a loose sigh, looking comfortable at best and smug at worst. Sure, maybe this was where he belonged... and he wasn't going to say no if someone wanted him to sail with them for the rest of his days. It was starting to sound ... not that bad. |
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Spring 
Day Weather: 
