☀︎ 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕦𝕟. 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕝—𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕓𝕦𝕣𝕟. ☀︎
— Apollo .ᐟ
♪ God of the Sun ; God of Music ; God of Prophecy ☀︎ ⁺
﹝#GreekMythology ; #Epictwt ; #MultiverseRp﹞
── An impertinent smile reached Apollo's face as he offered a soft shrug in Hephaestus' direction.
Count your blessings, I suppose.
You know, you must reach out if they come around again. I am not one for chaos.
[ hephaestus let out a huff, looking down to his brother. ]
“ Calling them a ‘bother’ is putting it lightly, Apollo. It is as if you compare a rat to a human. “
[ the god shook his head. ]
“ No matter. They have not bothered me in a while… which I can only be grateful for. “
{ EVENT STARTED: ANGEL FROM THE HEAVENS }
Wings had sprouted from the God of Forgery’s back, and a halo had appeared, hovering above his head.
This god had been demoted to the role of “angel”. Why? ..I’m bored. Sue me.
[ DETAILS BELOW!! ]
── At last, Apollon met eyes with this young god, offering him a challenging stare. Why not force him to get around more?
Do your research on your fellow deities. You'll find out.
+
The bot turned, his eyes boring into Apollo's hand, staring at the objects there; a determined, hungry expression flickered briefly across his face.
"Who. Color me intrigued."
He straightened, his tail flicking.
“ I see.. Well, you are always welcome on my island or with Hermes and I up on Olympus, I’m sure it isn’t just plants that shine with a little sun. ”
— Divinity smiles, a reference to the other carrying happiness to anyone kind enough to accept.
── As Apollo watches the goddess's arms drop, he notices she carries an air of tiredness, yet blur seems warmer than before. How strange. His features soften at her question.
Quite well.
Simply keeping to myself for the majority of the Winter and the rain-filled Spring
“ I thought it was strange how I didn’t see you for so long.. I was worried about you. Are you alright? ”
— The goddess untangles their arms, before stepping back to look down at him, tilting her head with a faint look of concern on her face.
── Apollo allowed a beat of silence to pass before conjuring tangible objects into his hand; they appeared with a wisp of flaxen mist.
─ In his palm laid a small vial of honey and a single stick of styrax incense. He offered them to the bot.
+
── Everything about Apollo fell asleep, his body stilling, and the breaths in his chest falling flat. He swore up-and-down that he watched the yellow-orange sunset gain hints of a gentle purple.
I understand, Bluzden.
+
"...yes."
His brief response is short and strained—he's still pissed at the damn fool of a man that gored his lover through.
"But it's long since happened. That mortal no longer walks this Earth."
── Apollo figured he understood the pain in the bot more than most people that Bluzden speaks to─which is not a lot.
─ He knows that there is nothing that may relieve the young god's pain, for the loss of your mortal lays silently inside you, creeping up whenever it wants.