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For @messageforyou
Jul. 1st, 2023 09:41 pmThey never managed to find the footless girl’s shipwright father, nor any other family. Thankfully, Apollo did restore her missing shade’s feet. She still wears the makeshift veil around her neck like a kerchief—a fond reminder of her friend. Along with her, only a half-dozen other children are without families and remain under Achilles’ care.
They’ll be off to the judges soon, but for now they’re all absorbed with the task of rearranging pieces of broken pottery like puzzles. Looking at the larger pieces, they once had red figure motifs of Furies accosting the damned, Cerberus devouring shades, and Charon navigating his dismal ferry along the Styx. The children don’t look overly concerned by the subject matter; it's all old-hat by now. Megaera isn’t that scary, Cerberus is basically like a normal dog, and Charon keeps to himself.
Meanwhile, Achilles keeps one eye on the young shades as he helps Peleus and the house contractors move scaffolding around the hall. Gaia’s quaking did plenty of damage; there are still broken beams and masonry to be replaced.
Fortunately, this work is much easier now that the bulk of Ares’ victims have been processed and moved on to their afterlives. By last count, there were only a hundred-odd shades left. But still, all the while, other dead have trickled through the gates at their normal pace.
Achilles has never seen his master so exhausted. Hades can barely muster the energy to be irritable anymore; he does his work in silence, only responding to questions with grunts and curt monosyllables. Along with Nyx, Zagreus, and Persephone, Achilles does his best to field ongoing issues around the House so that Hades can focus on his work.
Right now, he holds an upright steady while his father binds it to a set of cross-braces. “What ever became of Lady Thermusa?” Peleus asks casually. “I haven’t seen her around as of late.”
Achilles hums, casting around for a good lie ... and fails. “It’s a mystery to me as well,” he says lamely.
Peleus raises a bushy white brow—he knows full-well his son is a terrible liar—but doesn’t press any further. “Shame. She was very charming.”
"That she was," Achilles agrees.
They’ll be off to the judges soon, but for now they’re all absorbed with the task of rearranging pieces of broken pottery like puzzles. Looking at the larger pieces, they once had red figure motifs of Furies accosting the damned, Cerberus devouring shades, and Charon navigating his dismal ferry along the Styx. The children don’t look overly concerned by the subject matter; it's all old-hat by now. Megaera isn’t that scary, Cerberus is basically like a normal dog, and Charon keeps to himself.
Meanwhile, Achilles keeps one eye on the young shades as he helps Peleus and the house contractors move scaffolding around the hall. Gaia’s quaking did plenty of damage; there are still broken beams and masonry to be replaced.
Fortunately, this work is much easier now that the bulk of Ares’ victims have been processed and moved on to their afterlives. By last count, there were only a hundred-odd shades left. But still, all the while, other dead have trickled through the gates at their normal pace.
Achilles has never seen his master so exhausted. Hades can barely muster the energy to be irritable anymore; he does his work in silence, only responding to questions with grunts and curt monosyllables. Along with Nyx, Zagreus, and Persephone, Achilles does his best to field ongoing issues around the House so that Hades can focus on his work.
Right now, he holds an upright steady while his father binds it to a set of cross-braces. “What ever became of Lady Thermusa?” Peleus asks casually. “I haven’t seen her around as of late.”
Achilles hums, casting around for a good lie ... and fails. “It’s a mystery to me as well,” he says lamely.
Peleus raises a bushy white brow—he knows full-well his son is a terrible liar—but doesn’t press any further. “Shame. She was very charming.”
"That she was," Achilles agrees.
