His smile was thin when she spoke of no proof for the strength of love or its ability to conquer everything and anything. Millennia after the death of his wife, he still loved her with the intensity of the sun. A fire that refused to wane even as the hours stretched on into days and to a never-ending procession of moments. Thranduil knew he would never see her again, for the boats to Valinor were long gone. Yet he still pined for her, and would con- tinue to do so until the days of the world ended.
"Those who glory in the art of war hold a hint of darkness in their hearts. To linger on such a morose subject is not often done. Do you revel in the thought of war then, Eris?“
Sipping his wine once more, he barely glanced up as the call for the volunteers for war resounded in the street below. As far as the rest of society was concerned, he had had his share of the battlefield.
“As for love….perhaps you have not experienced it yet to fully believe in that concept.”
Oh, she knew of love. She knew of its evils and the pain that accompanied the slowing beat of heartbreak. The way her stomach clenched and her throat constricted in the first nights alone. She u n d e r s t o o d. While her sisters snatched up human, MORTAL lovers and threw them away like trash when done, Eris did not dare step into the realm of romance. She had but one man, strong and as ANGRY as she, and had been easily t o s s e d aside.
” I suppose it’s in my nature. Darkness does seem to fit me, I suppose. Or perhaps it’s suffering. A sorrow that can’t be touched. – Or maybe I’m just so full of my own shitthat I can’t see anymore. “
Green eyes found the wine-sipping regent, lips parted to allow silent breathing and the subtle cursing of her own name. She could hear the noise calling out on the streets far below them, and Eris’ attention came to the window nearby.
”… I think it’s just the opposite. Maybe I’ve loved so wholly, so fully, that it’s become disgusting. “
x out x.UGH. You’re always so sweet and good to me. I think you’re the first person that actually roleplayed with me on this account. I’m always eating up the chance to roleplay with Thranduil, Ronan or whoever else your mind takes to writing for and my muse appreciates the experiences quite a lot! Thank you very much.
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. ’
“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. ❞
“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. ’
“What made you change your mind then? Surely not on a whim.”
He arched an eyebrow at what he thought was a self-depreciating comment. He didn’t know much about her – hardly anything at all – though he couldn’t help but draw his own conclusions. A dark past? Misdeeds? No, people with such secrets would never give a straight answer, if at all.
"I doubt it is because of a centuries’ long slumber. But the current world does not seem to be particularly friendly.“
Wait, was he actually trying to say that the world had actually BEEN friendly? As far as she was concerned, the only thing that even made it bearable was SEX, and that was little and far between with the turn of the damn century.
’ you caught me. I’m actually an dangerous, serial hand-shaker. Really just gets me going. ’
One brow rose in response, a smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth. It wasn’t every day that she found someone that could actually keep UP with what she was saying, let alone find the little holes in her quirks and quips. Neat.
’ If you thought the world was friendly before, I’d love to get your thoughts on the Spanish Inquisition… as for what made me change my mind, I guess I just figured that no one else in the world could be as bad as– well, others. ’’
He looked at her hand for a few seconds before shaking it briskly; as remote as he was, he had made it a point to learn the new customs of the world. It was necessary to blend in sometimes, though his ears and height were a problem.
"Thranduil. A name that does not exist any longer, I presume.“
Thranduil? Nah, definitely not a name she’d ever heard before. Maybe if he’d busted out with something like Adonis or Perceus, she’d be able to have some frame of reference. It was kind of a pretty name, though, soshe had to at least respect the sound. After-all, wasn’t that really what a name was? Some syllable of mouth-made noise your loving parents chose to spit at you when they wanted your attention? – Ah, his hand was warm.
’ Can’t say I’ve ever heard it, but I’m not exactly one to go out of my way and ask for people’s names. You are, like, the first contact I’ve had in ages. Can’t imagine why… ’
“Two millennia would be a more accurate time frame. Though I do not remember it to be extinction, but rather a departure.”
Which of course shed some doubt on his continued existence in ‘modern’ society, but his love for the wood and his disdain for the sea led him to linger in the woodland realm.
’ hate to be the one to break it to you man, but nobody talks like that anymore. Kind’ve obnoxious. but, hey, it’s long and drawn out and unnecessary– guess I kinda like it. ’
less than orthadox, Eris extended a slender hand to greet the taller male, quirking a brow at formal speech and graceful tones. This guy’s ass must’ve been tighter than vacuum pack. ’ Eris, you? ’
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.
