❝ I have laid eyes on many a being - some monsters, some holding a façade and claiming to be. It oft becomes difficult to distinguish between the two. I decide only from the evidence I see. I do not know, therefore I will not claim to. ❞
–
This was worse than talking to Narcissus on one of his good days. Part ofher watned to reach across and slap the absolute shit out of him, the other was too intruiged to really care about his use of verbose English. Her brows shot up, one hand perched haughtily on her hip.
" Well, aren’t you little, mister fancy-pants? Just giving you a heads-up. I don’t pick and choose who goes, I just break off a chunk of the pie and let the rest crumble down allll by itself. “
“Poetry happens to be a part of my mainstream; nursery rhymes, not so much. But I agree. It is a rather dark song,” he smiled. His eyes stared her all over, but not too closely. He did not want to alarm her. But the way she composed himself happened to coincide with the way he was relaxing.
“Pluck my feathers? Oh, you’re really tempestuous, Eris. Perhaps you should gain control of your storms before they turn into maelströms. Besides, I am not one for fear,” he added. He knew how wrathful a spirit could be, for he had seen how Amel’s powers inflicted its own horrible atrocities on the late queen Akasha. In his heart, he felt the warning of caution, yet intrigue.
“The clock is ticking… Shall we call a truce of emotion?”
While her expression showed no signs of changing, Eris would at least offer him the benefit of the doubt. Still, tempestuous? O, how the ignorant would know so little, her storminess could not be quelled by the mere statement of her attitude. She was no more frenzied or blustery than the calm of a southernly wind, and yet she felt her fire ravaging her insides like a charring piece of parchment.
’ I suppose. My bitterness seems not to have pushed you away, and thus I have no choice but to accompany your wishes– for the time being. ’ There was a slight twitch of the corner of her lips, amusement shining in the depths of dark emerald green. It was like a ten year old boy in grade school annoying the girl next to him to gain her attentions.
’ Perhaps this would be better continued away from the bustle of other people. I’m certain there are things you wish to know, and there are curiosities that I would rather have… dealt with. Besides, formality… is not my strongest point. ’
He smiled wryly, pouring two glasses of wine. One was set in front of Eris as a form of a silent offer. He sipped the wine from his own glass, before sitting at the leather armchair beside the television.
"There are those who revel in death and destruction. Others treat war as if it were nothing more than a game or as a way to increase power.“
Her likening of the battlefield to a graveyard was a poignant metaphor, and he raised his wineglass to toast her, in a way.
"Aptly put. As morbid as that sounds, it is also the truth. Anyone who says otherwise has not seen war firsthand.”
If he noticed that she was becoming a little eager with the subject at hand, he didn’t let on. Instead, he took another sip of the wine before setting the glass down.
“Starting wars has a price; one that you already mentioned. Loss of life. Not only for those on the battlefield, but those outside it. At least in the case of my kin.”
O, but wasn’t it true? All Greek Tragedies taught the stubborn falsities that lined the mouths of Warlords. The hero rushed into the heat of battle with sword in hand to save a fair maiden who’s fate was worse than death, only to be crushed in battle when his LOVE was not so pure as to best his enemy’s lust for HATE and blood.
’ Life is morbid, talk is cheap. Violence brings out the emotions that are otherwise hidden. It shows people raw, it shows their PAIN. What tragedy ever became a legend if no tears were shed? The screaming, the shattering of a heart, it’s all an artform. ’ Eris swallowed down her words to still her growing excitement, lips parted as she took down a sip of red wine. It was sweet, and yet bitter all the same. The price of life… how cheap it was. Greeted with an eternity of nothingness in place of the pain and sorrow and destruction of it all. – god, how she HATED it all. She knew, she did.
’ …Besides, isn’t it love that comes first? They say it ‘conquers’ all. Fuck it all, really. I don’t believe it. There’s no proof. ’
Dark green and gold, blue and silver, red and black; all complementary colours that could be found in the midnight sky. Such a contrast to the harsh heat of the day in Summertime, Eris was less than willing to venture out in a sweltering nintey-six degrees. She found the cool humidity of night to be more suiting to her needs and desires, more befitting one of inky dark hair and pallid skin. But the Goddess found it all the more interesting to ‘people-watch’ in this world of industry and pioneering.
Slaves, workers, aristocrats and drinking whores lining the streets of a city in the south; New Orleans. She’d seen Italy, she’d lived in Greece, she’d seen Moscow and all its glittering operas. But jaded she remained, fingernails tapping idly against the railing below, a single brow twisted toward her hairline.
She’d been watching a particular male all night, taking care not to speak or move from her position. He was beautiful like Apollo and had a voice like Dionysus, though she had not seen him touch a spirit since his arrival. How odd.
“I have participated in several wars in the past. All of which have never been passed down in songs and tales. Yet all of them catastrophic.”
The news ended with a warning to stay inside for the rest of the day, followed with a reminder about eligible men to sign up for the war. He ignored this last part, switching the television off and reaching for a bottle of wine.
“That is a new view, though not one I completely agree with. It makes one feel alive, knowing that they face death. But it also comes with a price.”
’ I’m not exactly sure if you would want to sing about something if it was catastrophic. Seems like it might defeat the purpose of keeping it solemn. Besides, there’s never anything to celebrate. One side wins, but both lose lives. It’s not a chessboard, it’s a graveyard– That’s what makes it so special. ’
Not many would share her ostentacious love of death, of chaos, of DESTRUCTION, but she was certain to make her point either way. Even if she could not part with the knowledge of who and WHAT she was, she could not stop herself from sinking her claws into the very topic she loved most.
That was a form of belief that he wasn’t familiar with. But he considered that it was also some- thing new about modern society that he just learned, and he tucked it away for future reference. While she seemed content with just being there, he wasn’t.
While his apartment was still bare, there were a few essential items in it. A box television, which was recently fitted with a cable network, was on one end of what he assumed was the living room.
“A fair thought. It seems most events now are about disasters and discord.”
The last word was punctuated by a news report of a riot downtown, and he sighed.
Eris’ throat constricted when the television blared the next segment of breaking news, eyes flickering down toward the carpet to examine its rough texture. She seemed uncomfortable with the topic, for she knew that no one could possibly understand her love for chaos, nor the intense need to just fuck everything up. It was like a drug, its euphoric effects able to send her over the edge.
❝ I take it that you aren’t a fan of war, then. Must be weird, seeing all this on the news. I think it’s exciting. Disasters… tend to have a way of making humans feel insignificant. ❞
She almost snorted with laughter, splayed fingers flying upward to smash against her mouth and stifle the noise. This was absolutely RIDICULOUS. She’d met Hercules, had shunned away a dastardly pirate and made the city of Troy QUIVER in fear of the chosen hero, but this? Man, she thought she’d seen everything.
❝ I’m sorry. What was that? You call yourself WHAT? ❞
“Yes, they are. They created me and my kin, so silliness was never considered. You are not particularly religious then.”
It was more of a statement than a question. What else could he conclude about someone who did not believe in any god, after all?
“What do you believe in then? There must be…something.”
Not particularly religious? HA. – It’d be more than egotistical to claim worship to the gods– her FATHER, in particular. His promiscuity rivaled even her sister’s, his VANITY rivaled that of Narcissus and her mother’s WRATH was spoken of in legends. Though this fire raged within her mind, she showed no signs of care, offering a breath of dry laughter.
“ Me? Nah, man. I just… ” She licked her lips, long fingers pulling a strand of dark, wavy hair from the corner of her mouth. “ I think that shit just happens. ”
It sounded like the dry humor that the humans had developed lately, and he responded with a brief smile. What was it called? Ah yes.
Sarcasm.
“I imagine you shook plenty of hands in your time. Left their owners just begging for more.”
Thranduil had to smile then; he had only awoke from his sleep ten years ago, and he missed most historical events. But the time he spent in the library of the town closest to his former realm allowed him to catch up.
"There are always exceptions to the rule. It seems the Valar have moments when they find things quite dull.“
At least he had a real sense of humor. Most of the old farts she found wallowing around the world were as dull as dry, lead paint. Eris placed a hand on her hip, head tilted back to look at the ceiling, but she was certainly still listening.
’ Valar? Sounds like some heavy stuff. Are those, like, gods, or something? Never did believe in them. Seemed a little silly, actually. ’
It is quite an oddity for the petite lass to find another human being this deep in the forest. Typically when it occurs, it is a traveler lost in the thicket, or someone trekking to the Moors borders. Aurora keeps a safe distance from the stranger, but offers help regardless of possible danger.
“Are you lost, miss? This part of the forest can be awfully troublesome. The market is actually to the North of here.”
A cute girl with long, golden hair emerged from the deep and heavenly grove that Eris had saw fit to explore. Slender fingers touched the soft greenery and plucked from stems their leaves, eyes ever-holding caution within their depths. The Goddess had never been particularly well-suited to dealing with strangers, let alone young girls of human origin. Perhaps that was better solved by her Father’s desires. Hm.
’ Not lost, no. I find the forest to be soothing. What you may find as dangerous, I take delight in. I beg you not to question it. ’
My name is Vervain and I am twenty one years old. I use female pronouns and tend to speak in a very formal manner to try and get my point across without having any feelings hurt. I tend to be very busy during the week, but i will do my best to get to replies and asks when I have time.
First things first, please don't godmod! This means controlling Eris or anything that Eris does in character. It could be the smallest thing, like making him pick something up, to using your character's abilities to hurt and/or kill Eris when I did not give you permission to do so.
I am both selective and mutually exclusive, meaning that I will only roleplay with those I follow back.
I also reserve the right to reject roleplaying with ANYONE and for ANY reason. This is my blog and I will not be bullied.
Memes may be sent to be my non-mutuals, however. I will always interact with non-mutuals in my askbox.
This is a multi-ship and multi-verse blog. However, Vittorio is canonically bisexual.
This is a hate-free, theft-free zone. I will not send hate, nor will I answer messages directed toward me or anyone else that can be considered hateful or hurtful. You've come to the wrong place to stir up trouble.
This blog will contain offensive and sensitive topics and is considered generally 'NSFW'. However, I am opposed to doing smut very often and will probably keep that on the low side. Blood, sexual assault, depression, suicide, toxic personality traits and abuse will all be things that are discussed here. HOWEVER, they will all be tagged correctly.
Her name is ERIS, she is known as DISCORDIA. For thousands of years she has reigned terror and injustice on humanity, sweeping across the land in the form of chaotic hurricanes and crumbling eruptions. She is violent death, she is starvation, and she sets fire to those unwilling.
Born to darkness (and some say to the King of Gods; Jupiter) with her brother, Thanatos at her side, the two were employed by HADES to bring in the souls of the dead. While her brother was granted the gentle death, those brought in through infancy or through the burden of peaceful sleep, Eris was charged with the destruction of mankind. Envy, lust, these are just a few of the things she feels for those given less GRUESOME tasks. Her occupation creates friction on her appearance and creates what she had become. Sunken emerald eyes and pale, gaunt features. Spindling fingers rake at the earth, sowing the seeds of her Golden Apples that jolt the world in their wake.
She is forever known for the wars she causes, most notably the Trojan War, where she threw down the seeds of destruction and clapped as mortal and god alike were pitted against each other in absolute RAGE.
Eris, Goddess of Discord, lives among the world's most chaotic bodies; humanity. They, along with their violent free will, make up a collection of sinister creations and thought processes that makes her feel at home. She appears to them as the most terrible evil; the spokesperson for a Tax Agency. There's a certain joy that comes to her from the dread others display, heels clicking and clipboard displaying all the wrongs they deigned to commit. Riveting. But her terror-streak has run dry as of late, what with so few massive wars occuring with the blade and sword. But humanity has a few new toys to play with, and they are creating their battles without her.
Aesop's New Fables.
The generic verse for all of my cross-overs without a verse of their own. Usually taking her out of Ancient Greece and into a new, more modernized atmosphere.
Time-Swept Goddess.
Any verses taking place before the 1940s will be placed here. This includes Ancient Greece or anything occuring on Mount Olympus unless otherwise specified!
Vampire Chronicles [ Shadow of Death ].
Created during the peak of Greek Civilization, Eris was made by Cyril. Among one of the many Greek young women turned by the vampire with disregard for the rules, Eris was headstrong and sought after more than what the night had to offer. Her stay with her own maker did not last long, however, as Eris soon learned throughout history that her own kind could be more cruel than any human. She created few companions and had even fewer friends. She disappeared from known History at the time of the Roman invasion, choosing to remove herself from the mediterranean and seek out enlightenment and popularized-philosophy in other regions of Western Europe.
As a Child of the Millenia, she was blessed with the Fire Gift, Telepathy and Telekinesis. She can also fast for long periods of time if need be and her cravings are at a minimum. She is, however, one of the many that does not survive the ‘purge’ from Maverick Vampires in the final book. She dies by fire in southern Italy, near Rome, when it is set by her own kind. At this point in time she has made quite a few of her own fledglings and it is with them that she dies in a Coven House made known.
