The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
Beds were too soft. That was Thesus’ first new knowledge since gaining his freedom. It wasn’t that Thesus had spent the last 16 years sleeping on top of stones - he had been given slave palates to sleep on, but these palates weren’t always comfortable, with barely a few cushions and furs to keep himself comfortable and warm. It had not been the most comfortable of sixteen years and the same applied to his journeying across country over land, where the travellers had had to make do with what they had each night. But now he had been given a bed on the ship, and even that bed had been more comfortable than anything he had experienced so far. It made it hard to sleep, truth be told. He was used to very few comforts, and part of him wished to just sleep on the floor. Some nights on the ship he had done just that.
Thesus disembarked from the ship after a few words shared between him and the boatswain, the man who ran the ship as the captain’s right hand. It was the boatswain with whom Thesus had initially bargained his passage across the seas back to Colchis. He had agreed manual labour aboard the ship in exchange for the journey, and Thesus had, to the best of his abilities, worked as had as any of the rest of the crew… even if his knowledge of sailing and ships was many years out of date. Often a sailor of low rank had to tell him what to do, but Thesus didn’t mind.
By now he was used to taking orders.
Disembarking the ship, Thesus took a minute to breathe in the fresh air of Colchis. It smelt different than it had sixteen years ago. Though he couldn’t really remember what it had smelt like before… even so, it was different, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
A few enquiries around the port told him that Tythra had never moved - she still lived in the Drakos home with her two (really, two?) daughters. Thesus’ mind reeled for a minute at the knowledge of two children, and he wondered who Tythra had married or bedded in the interim to breed a second child. Thesus’s one daughter, little Imeeya, must be nearing 20 by now, if she had not already made it. The little girl he had left behind when he went off to fight in a war, had been almost 4. She had been developing a personality by then, and a feisty personality at that. What was she like now? Was she married? Was she healthy? Above all else… was she happy? So many questions were left unanswered.
Thesus spent two days, just two, in the city proper. He somehow found the coin to rent a room for the two nights. He took the time to get to know the city again, and to learn about at least some of what he had missed. It wasn’t enough time, granted, but it was all the time he would allow before returning to his family. By now news would have reached them of his survival. Whether they thought him an imposter or real was yet to be decided, but he could not bare to be apart from his wife for any longer. Two days was more than enough time, all things considered.
Guards surrounded the Drakos property. At the gate alone there were three. Two were too young to know of Thesus, and Thesus didn’t know them… but he recognised one of them. “Greco,” he greeted, and he exchanged a few words with the man, reminding him of who he was. As expected, word had reached Midas of his return, despite apparently being confirmed as dead for the past sixteen years. The guard recognised him at least enough to let him pass into the Archontikó Drakos. He made his way up to the front door and knocked heavily, wondering if he would be as lucky explaining himself to his wife as he had been with the guard who let him through.
A slave answered the door, and he said he was here to see the Lady Tythra. The slave, as all good slaves should, did not question him, instead leading him through to a receiving room, to await the arrival of Tythra.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Dec 26, 2020 19:25:51 GMT
Posted In A Homecoming on Dec 26, 2020 19:25:51 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Beds were too soft. That was Thesus’ first new knowledge since gaining his freedom. It wasn’t that Thesus had spent the last 16 years sleeping on top of stones - he had been given slave palates to sleep on, but these palates weren’t always comfortable, with barely a few cushions and furs to keep himself comfortable and warm. It had not been the most comfortable of sixteen years and the same applied to his journeying across country over land, where the travellers had had to make do with what they had each night. But now he had been given a bed on the ship, and even that bed had been more comfortable than anything he had experienced so far. It made it hard to sleep, truth be told. He was used to very few comforts, and part of him wished to just sleep on the floor. Some nights on the ship he had done just that.
Thesus disembarked from the ship after a few words shared between him and the boatswain, the man who ran the ship as the captain’s right hand. It was the boatswain with whom Thesus had initially bargained his passage across the seas back to Colchis. He had agreed manual labour aboard the ship in exchange for the journey, and Thesus had, to the best of his abilities, worked as had as any of the rest of the crew… even if his knowledge of sailing and ships was many years out of date. Often a sailor of low rank had to tell him what to do, but Thesus didn’t mind.
By now he was used to taking orders.
Disembarking the ship, Thesus took a minute to breathe in the fresh air of Colchis. It smelt different than it had sixteen years ago. Though he couldn’t really remember what it had smelt like before… even so, it was different, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
A few enquiries around the port told him that Tythra had never moved - she still lived in the Drakos home with her two (really, two?) daughters. Thesus’ mind reeled for a minute at the knowledge of two children, and he wondered who Tythra had married or bedded in the interim to breed a second child. Thesus’s one daughter, little Imeeya, must be nearing 20 by now, if she had not already made it. The little girl he had left behind when he went off to fight in a war, had been almost 4. She had been developing a personality by then, and a feisty personality at that. What was she like now? Was she married? Was she healthy? Above all else… was she happy? So many questions were left unanswered.
Thesus spent two days, just two, in the city proper. He somehow found the coin to rent a room for the two nights. He took the time to get to know the city again, and to learn about at least some of what he had missed. It wasn’t enough time, granted, but it was all the time he would allow before returning to his family. By now news would have reached them of his survival. Whether they thought him an imposter or real was yet to be decided, but he could not bare to be apart from his wife for any longer. Two days was more than enough time, all things considered.
Guards surrounded the Drakos property. At the gate alone there were three. Two were too young to know of Thesus, and Thesus didn’t know them… but he recognised one of them. “Greco,” he greeted, and he exchanged a few words with the man, reminding him of who he was. As expected, word had reached Midas of his return, despite apparently being confirmed as dead for the past sixteen years. The guard recognised him at least enough to let him pass into the Archontikó Drakos. He made his way up to the front door and knocked heavily, wondering if he would be as lucky explaining himself to his wife as he had been with the guard who let him through.
A slave answered the door, and he said he was here to see the Lady Tythra. The slave, as all good slaves should, did not question him, instead leading him through to a receiving room, to await the arrival of Tythra.
Beds were too soft. That was Thesus’ first new knowledge since gaining his freedom. It wasn’t that Thesus had spent the last 16 years sleeping on top of stones - he had been given slave palates to sleep on, but these palates weren’t always comfortable, with barely a few cushions and furs to keep himself comfortable and warm. It had not been the most comfortable of sixteen years and the same applied to his journeying across country over land, where the travellers had had to make do with what they had each night. But now he had been given a bed on the ship, and even that bed had been more comfortable than anything he had experienced so far. It made it hard to sleep, truth be told. He was used to very few comforts, and part of him wished to just sleep on the floor. Some nights on the ship he had done just that.
Thesus disembarked from the ship after a few words shared between him and the boatswain, the man who ran the ship as the captain’s right hand. It was the boatswain with whom Thesus had initially bargained his passage across the seas back to Colchis. He had agreed manual labour aboard the ship in exchange for the journey, and Thesus had, to the best of his abilities, worked as had as any of the rest of the crew… even if his knowledge of sailing and ships was many years out of date. Often a sailor of low rank had to tell him what to do, but Thesus didn’t mind.
By now he was used to taking orders.
Disembarking the ship, Thesus took a minute to breathe in the fresh air of Colchis. It smelt different than it had sixteen years ago. Though he couldn’t really remember what it had smelt like before… even so, it was different, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
A few enquiries around the port told him that Tythra had never moved - she still lived in the Drakos home with her two (really, two?) daughters. Thesus’ mind reeled for a minute at the knowledge of two children, and he wondered who Tythra had married or bedded in the interim to breed a second child. Thesus’s one daughter, little Imeeya, must be nearing 20 by now, if she had not already made it. The little girl he had left behind when he went off to fight in a war, had been almost 4. She had been developing a personality by then, and a feisty personality at that. What was she like now? Was she married? Was she healthy? Above all else… was she happy? So many questions were left unanswered.
Thesus spent two days, just two, in the city proper. He somehow found the coin to rent a room for the two nights. He took the time to get to know the city again, and to learn about at least some of what he had missed. It wasn’t enough time, granted, but it was all the time he would allow before returning to his family. By now news would have reached them of his survival. Whether they thought him an imposter or real was yet to be decided, but he could not bare to be apart from his wife for any longer. Two days was more than enough time, all things considered.
Guards surrounded the Drakos property. At the gate alone there were three. Two were too young to know of Thesus, and Thesus didn’t know them… but he recognised one of them. “Greco,” he greeted, and he exchanged a few words with the man, reminding him of who he was. As expected, word had reached Midas of his return, despite apparently being confirmed as dead for the past sixteen years. The guard recognised him at least enough to let him pass into the Archontikó Drakos. He made his way up to the front door and knocked heavily, wondering if he would be as lucky explaining himself to his wife as he had been with the guard who let him through.
A slave answered the door, and he said he was here to see the Lady Tythra. The slave, as all good slaves should, did not question him, instead leading him through to a receiving room, to await the arrival of Tythra.
Tythra had heard whisperings of a man claiming to be her late husband arriving at the docks today. Really, she should be insulted. She should have the man thrown in jail, the charlatan. But over the sixteen years this would not be the first time the ‘return of Thesus of Drakos’ would reach her ears. They mourned no body, after all. All that could be returned from the battlefield was his ring.
When the death was still fresh she used to run to the docks or the entrance to the capital, heart beating hoping the rumors were true. No man, no matter how much he looked like Thesus, could ever fool her. She knew at a glance who they were- conmen looking for Drakos riches. At first she was furious, and then she grew numb to it all. She didn’t care any longer. The more time that passed, the less Tythra cared. It was the past, let it rest.
Still, it had been a very long time since someone claiming to be her husband arrived in Colchis. But she ignored it- she had a busy schedule ahead of this day. The men should be landing in Egypt about now, which meant Colchis should be prepared to send reinforcements- if necessary. It would be a month until real news of their troops would reach their ears, and the people should be ready for any scenario. She would meet with her barons, discuss how things were. She had to go over the reserves in Laconia, and see how much food is left for the people and how much can be supplied to the military. Her day never stopped- Tythra had no room to rest.
“Prepare my carriage,” She was telling her retainer. “I shall meet with Lord A-” but Tythra was interrupted by a knock at her office door. A small girl walked in, another slave. She looked nervous and unsure, as if what she had to say would invoke the dragon’s wrath. Tythra could be cold, sure, but she was no cruel mistress. “Yes?”
“A m-man claiming to be Lord Thesus awaits you in the sitting room.” She stuttered, and immediately Tythra narrowed. The guards should have turned him away. They knew not to let that charlatan’s onto her property. Had Imeeya or Essa seen them- now that would have made Tythra furious. The confusion they could feel, or even pain, all for a man’s greed and nothing else.
Tythra took a deep breath. “Prepare my carriage. This will only be a moment.” Tythra said as she left her retainer. She made her way down the stairs and towards the sitting room where the leader of her guards was standing right outside. He went to say something and Tythra stopped him. “I”ll deal with you after.” He had been with them so long- to make such a stupid mistake was just proof that his mind was starting to go. The last thing Tythra wanted to do was see him replaced- she had so many other things to think about. But first the break-in and now this? Another thing to add on her list.
Tythra entered the room, immediately prepared to fire off. Except… she could not find her voice. She knew on sight when someone lied and pretended to be her husband. Tythra, more than anyone else, knew who Thesus was.
So why couldn’t she yell at this man?
From the look of his eye to the way his jaw was shaped to even his stance (which was, admittedly, different than 16 years ago but still very similar) he… looked like Thesus. Skinnier than he was once, and older, but… still Thesus.
“Clear this room.” Finally, Tythra spoke. The guards and the slaves all looked at each other- but never would they ignore an order made by the Head of Drakos. They left the room. Tythra never moved. She just stared, frozen, while her heartbeat wildly.
When she heard the door close she felt… paralyzed. Her mind could not comprehend what she was seeing. He was dead. Her husband was dead. So how was he right here, right in front of her? Sixteen years he has been dead and now he was in her sitting room?
This wasn’t Thesus. It looked like Thesus, but it wasn’t him. And for putting Tythra through this… confusion, it would be more than prison. She would have his head. This was cruel, and the Mother of Dragons dealt with cruelty by using her own.
“You’re not Thesus.” She said finally. Her voice did not crack, but it did waver, her mask slipping for just a bit. She did not rush forward nor did she turn back. She was frozen in time. Frozen… with him.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Dec 26, 2020 19:51:42 GMT
Posted In A Homecoming on Dec 26, 2020 19:51:42 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Tythra had heard whisperings of a man claiming to be her late husband arriving at the docks today. Really, she should be insulted. She should have the man thrown in jail, the charlatan. But over the sixteen years this would not be the first time the ‘return of Thesus of Drakos’ would reach her ears. They mourned no body, after all. All that could be returned from the battlefield was his ring.
When the death was still fresh she used to run to the docks or the entrance to the capital, heart beating hoping the rumors were true. No man, no matter how much he looked like Thesus, could ever fool her. She knew at a glance who they were- conmen looking for Drakos riches. At first she was furious, and then she grew numb to it all. She didn’t care any longer. The more time that passed, the less Tythra cared. It was the past, let it rest.
Still, it had been a very long time since someone claiming to be her husband arrived in Colchis. But she ignored it- she had a busy schedule ahead of this day. The men should be landing in Egypt about now, which meant Colchis should be prepared to send reinforcements- if necessary. It would be a month until real news of their troops would reach their ears, and the people should be ready for any scenario. She would meet with her barons, discuss how things were. She had to go over the reserves in Laconia, and see how much food is left for the people and how much can be supplied to the military. Her day never stopped- Tythra had no room to rest.
“Prepare my carriage,” She was telling her retainer. “I shall meet with Lord A-” but Tythra was interrupted by a knock at her office door. A small girl walked in, another slave. She looked nervous and unsure, as if what she had to say would invoke the dragon’s wrath. Tythra could be cold, sure, but she was no cruel mistress. “Yes?”
“A m-man claiming to be Lord Thesus awaits you in the sitting room.” She stuttered, and immediately Tythra narrowed. The guards should have turned him away. They knew not to let that charlatan’s onto her property. Had Imeeya or Essa seen them- now that would have made Tythra furious. The confusion they could feel, or even pain, all for a man’s greed and nothing else.
Tythra took a deep breath. “Prepare my carriage. This will only be a moment.” Tythra said as she left her retainer. She made her way down the stairs and towards the sitting room where the leader of her guards was standing right outside. He went to say something and Tythra stopped him. “I”ll deal with you after.” He had been with them so long- to make such a stupid mistake was just proof that his mind was starting to go. The last thing Tythra wanted to do was see him replaced- she had so many other things to think about. But first the break-in and now this? Another thing to add on her list.
Tythra entered the room, immediately prepared to fire off. Except… she could not find her voice. She knew on sight when someone lied and pretended to be her husband. Tythra, more than anyone else, knew who Thesus was.
So why couldn’t she yell at this man?
From the look of his eye to the way his jaw was shaped to even his stance (which was, admittedly, different than 16 years ago but still very similar) he… looked like Thesus. Skinnier than he was once, and older, but… still Thesus.
“Clear this room.” Finally, Tythra spoke. The guards and the slaves all looked at each other- but never would they ignore an order made by the Head of Drakos. They left the room. Tythra never moved. She just stared, frozen, while her heartbeat wildly.
When she heard the door close she felt… paralyzed. Her mind could not comprehend what she was seeing. He was dead. Her husband was dead. So how was he right here, right in front of her? Sixteen years he has been dead and now he was in her sitting room?
This wasn’t Thesus. It looked like Thesus, but it wasn’t him. And for putting Tythra through this… confusion, it would be more than prison. She would have his head. This was cruel, and the Mother of Dragons dealt with cruelty by using her own.
“You’re not Thesus.” She said finally. Her voice did not crack, but it did waver, her mask slipping for just a bit. She did not rush forward nor did she turn back. She was frozen in time. Frozen… with him.
Tythra had heard whisperings of a man claiming to be her late husband arriving at the docks today. Really, she should be insulted. She should have the man thrown in jail, the charlatan. But over the sixteen years this would not be the first time the ‘return of Thesus of Drakos’ would reach her ears. They mourned no body, after all. All that could be returned from the battlefield was his ring.
When the death was still fresh she used to run to the docks or the entrance to the capital, heart beating hoping the rumors were true. No man, no matter how much he looked like Thesus, could ever fool her. She knew at a glance who they were- conmen looking for Drakos riches. At first she was furious, and then she grew numb to it all. She didn’t care any longer. The more time that passed, the less Tythra cared. It was the past, let it rest.
Still, it had been a very long time since someone claiming to be her husband arrived in Colchis. But she ignored it- she had a busy schedule ahead of this day. The men should be landing in Egypt about now, which meant Colchis should be prepared to send reinforcements- if necessary. It would be a month until real news of their troops would reach their ears, and the people should be ready for any scenario. She would meet with her barons, discuss how things were. She had to go over the reserves in Laconia, and see how much food is left for the people and how much can be supplied to the military. Her day never stopped- Tythra had no room to rest.
“Prepare my carriage,” She was telling her retainer. “I shall meet with Lord A-” but Tythra was interrupted by a knock at her office door. A small girl walked in, another slave. She looked nervous and unsure, as if what she had to say would invoke the dragon’s wrath. Tythra could be cold, sure, but she was no cruel mistress. “Yes?”
“A m-man claiming to be Lord Thesus awaits you in the sitting room.” She stuttered, and immediately Tythra narrowed. The guards should have turned him away. They knew not to let that charlatan’s onto her property. Had Imeeya or Essa seen them- now that would have made Tythra furious. The confusion they could feel, or even pain, all for a man’s greed and nothing else.
Tythra took a deep breath. “Prepare my carriage. This will only be a moment.” Tythra said as she left her retainer. She made her way down the stairs and towards the sitting room where the leader of her guards was standing right outside. He went to say something and Tythra stopped him. “I”ll deal with you after.” He had been with them so long- to make such a stupid mistake was just proof that his mind was starting to go. The last thing Tythra wanted to do was see him replaced- she had so many other things to think about. But first the break-in and now this? Another thing to add on her list.
Tythra entered the room, immediately prepared to fire off. Except… she could not find her voice. She knew on sight when someone lied and pretended to be her husband. Tythra, more than anyone else, knew who Thesus was.
So why couldn’t she yell at this man?
From the look of his eye to the way his jaw was shaped to even his stance (which was, admittedly, different than 16 years ago but still very similar) he… looked like Thesus. Skinnier than he was once, and older, but… still Thesus.
“Clear this room.” Finally, Tythra spoke. The guards and the slaves all looked at each other- but never would they ignore an order made by the Head of Drakos. They left the room. Tythra never moved. She just stared, frozen, while her heartbeat wildly.
When she heard the door close she felt… paralyzed. Her mind could not comprehend what she was seeing. He was dead. Her husband was dead. So how was he right here, right in front of her? Sixteen years he has been dead and now he was in her sitting room?
This wasn’t Thesus. It looked like Thesus, but it wasn’t him. And for putting Tythra through this… confusion, it would be more than prison. She would have his head. This was cruel, and the Mother of Dragons dealt with cruelty by using her own.
“You’re not Thesus.” She said finally. Her voice did not crack, but it did waver, her mask slipping for just a bit. She did not rush forward nor did she turn back. She was frozen in time. Frozen… with him.
Thesus wasn’t waiting for long, though he could not make himself comfortable, not with the room filled with guards and slaves, all watching him, all wary of who he claimed to be. For all his military history, he felt more at one with the slaves in the room, having spent 16 years as one of them, albeit in a distant land. It was more than a little disconcerting, truth be told. He wanted to speak, to fill the uncomfortable silence in the room with something, but no words came to him, nothing to set himself or his watchers at ease.
Instead, he turned about the room, examining the many changes that had taken place over the past sixteen years. The furniture was different, that was all he could really think. How many other things had changed - how much his wife and child had changed. All of a sudden he felt like an intruder. Thesus wondered if he had made the right decision, coming here. Though where else could he go? He was Thesus of Drakos: this was his home, this was where he was meant to be.
He turned as the door opened again and his wife entered the receiving room. She stared at him. He stared back. She ordered the room to be cleared and the guards and slaves did as bid with only the smallest of hesitations. He wanted to smile, that was his first reaction upon seeing his wife after so long. The corners of his mouth twitched and his eyes creased as he gazed at her. But she wasn’t smiling, in fact she looked a little lost. He forced himself to maintain a neutral expression.
All the while, Thesus continued to stare. His wife, Tythra, was as lovely as she had ever been. Lines wrinkled her face with age, but it seemed to make her all the more beautiful, even with her face set and hardened against this intruder. Thesus wondered how many other men had come to her door, claiming to be him. From the way she watched him warily, there must have been at least a few. All turned away, it seemed, just like he was expecting to be. He just stood there, valiantly attempting to not hyperventilate at the mere thought.
When she spoke to him, “You’re not Thesus,” he had no words, nothing to say in response. Tythra’s voice, her fucking voice. It’s always been a touchstone for Thesus, but the way she’s using it now, sounding distant and even cold to this man’s random appearance at her door while clearly angling for control in this situation, fuck it’s artwork.
What had he expected to happen when he saw his wife for the first time? For the pair of them to run into each other’s arms? Yes - that was what he wanted. That was what he had dreamed of all those years gone, to be with his wife, to feel her close to him. To kiss those sweet, cherry-coloured lips. To be a man again. And now he found that he was restraining himself by the thinnest sliver of self-discipline to not act on that urge.
“You sound don’t sound so sure of yourself,” he finally replied, keeping his voice even despite how his heart convulsed behind his ribs. “I would not be surprised if you have seen many Thesuses pass through these doors, all claiming to be legitimately me.” Thesus stood there lamely, wanting to lean on the wall or a chair, just to have something to do. But he didn’t… this may be his home, but he was not yet welcome here. “I have no proof, beyond memories we have shared,” memories that kept him alive all that time in captivity, “But I am Thesus, returned…” at last...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Dec 28, 2020 17:18:49 GMT
Posted In A Homecoming on Dec 28, 2020 17:18:49 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Thesus wasn’t waiting for long, though he could not make himself comfortable, not with the room filled with guards and slaves, all watching him, all wary of who he claimed to be. For all his military history, he felt more at one with the slaves in the room, having spent 16 years as one of them, albeit in a distant land. It was more than a little disconcerting, truth be told. He wanted to speak, to fill the uncomfortable silence in the room with something, but no words came to him, nothing to set himself or his watchers at ease.
Instead, he turned about the room, examining the many changes that had taken place over the past sixteen years. The furniture was different, that was all he could really think. How many other things had changed - how much his wife and child had changed. All of a sudden he felt like an intruder. Thesus wondered if he had made the right decision, coming here. Though where else could he go? He was Thesus of Drakos: this was his home, this was where he was meant to be.
He turned as the door opened again and his wife entered the receiving room. She stared at him. He stared back. She ordered the room to be cleared and the guards and slaves did as bid with only the smallest of hesitations. He wanted to smile, that was his first reaction upon seeing his wife after so long. The corners of his mouth twitched and his eyes creased as he gazed at her. But she wasn’t smiling, in fact she looked a little lost. He forced himself to maintain a neutral expression.
All the while, Thesus continued to stare. His wife, Tythra, was as lovely as she had ever been. Lines wrinkled her face with age, but it seemed to make her all the more beautiful, even with her face set and hardened against this intruder. Thesus wondered how many other men had come to her door, claiming to be him. From the way she watched him warily, there must have been at least a few. All turned away, it seemed, just like he was expecting to be. He just stood there, valiantly attempting to not hyperventilate at the mere thought.
When she spoke to him, “You’re not Thesus,” he had no words, nothing to say in response. Tythra’s voice, her fucking voice. It’s always been a touchstone for Thesus, but the way she’s using it now, sounding distant and even cold to this man’s random appearance at her door while clearly angling for control in this situation, fuck it’s artwork.
What had he expected to happen when he saw his wife for the first time? For the pair of them to run into each other’s arms? Yes - that was what he wanted. That was what he had dreamed of all those years gone, to be with his wife, to feel her close to him. To kiss those sweet, cherry-coloured lips. To be a man again. And now he found that he was restraining himself by the thinnest sliver of self-discipline to not act on that urge.
“You sound don’t sound so sure of yourself,” he finally replied, keeping his voice even despite how his heart convulsed behind his ribs. “I would not be surprised if you have seen many Thesuses pass through these doors, all claiming to be legitimately me.” Thesus stood there lamely, wanting to lean on the wall or a chair, just to have something to do. But he didn’t… this may be his home, but he was not yet welcome here. “I have no proof, beyond memories we have shared,” memories that kept him alive all that time in captivity, “But I am Thesus, returned…” at last...
Thesus wasn’t waiting for long, though he could not make himself comfortable, not with the room filled with guards and slaves, all watching him, all wary of who he claimed to be. For all his military history, he felt more at one with the slaves in the room, having spent 16 years as one of them, albeit in a distant land. It was more than a little disconcerting, truth be told. He wanted to speak, to fill the uncomfortable silence in the room with something, but no words came to him, nothing to set himself or his watchers at ease.
Instead, he turned about the room, examining the many changes that had taken place over the past sixteen years. The furniture was different, that was all he could really think. How many other things had changed - how much his wife and child had changed. All of a sudden he felt like an intruder. Thesus wondered if he had made the right decision, coming here. Though where else could he go? He was Thesus of Drakos: this was his home, this was where he was meant to be.
He turned as the door opened again and his wife entered the receiving room. She stared at him. He stared back. She ordered the room to be cleared and the guards and slaves did as bid with only the smallest of hesitations. He wanted to smile, that was his first reaction upon seeing his wife after so long. The corners of his mouth twitched and his eyes creased as he gazed at her. But she wasn’t smiling, in fact she looked a little lost. He forced himself to maintain a neutral expression.
All the while, Thesus continued to stare. His wife, Tythra, was as lovely as she had ever been. Lines wrinkled her face with age, but it seemed to make her all the more beautiful, even with her face set and hardened against this intruder. Thesus wondered how many other men had come to her door, claiming to be him. From the way she watched him warily, there must have been at least a few. All turned away, it seemed, just like he was expecting to be. He just stood there, valiantly attempting to not hyperventilate at the mere thought.
When she spoke to him, “You’re not Thesus,” he had no words, nothing to say in response. Tythra’s voice, her fucking voice. It’s always been a touchstone for Thesus, but the way she’s using it now, sounding distant and even cold to this man’s random appearance at her door while clearly angling for control in this situation, fuck it’s artwork.
What had he expected to happen when he saw his wife for the first time? For the pair of them to run into each other’s arms? Yes - that was what he wanted. That was what he had dreamed of all those years gone, to be with his wife, to feel her close to him. To kiss those sweet, cherry-coloured lips. To be a man again. And now he found that he was restraining himself by the thinnest sliver of self-discipline to not act on that urge.
“You sound don’t sound so sure of yourself,” he finally replied, keeping his voice even despite how his heart convulsed behind his ribs. “I would not be surprised if you have seen many Thesuses pass through these doors, all claiming to be legitimately me.” Thesus stood there lamely, wanting to lean on the wall or a chair, just to have something to do. But he didn’t… this may be his home, but he was not yet welcome here. “I have no proof, beyond memories we have shared,” memories that kept him alive all that time in captivity, “But I am Thesus, returned…” at last...
I won’t forgive you if you’re lying, Thesus. I’ll hate you forever. How Tythra hated her last words to her husband. He had promised that he would be home quickly. She’d blink and he’d be there, reading bedtime stories to Imeeya. And that…. That was Tythra’s response. Of course, she didn’t hate Thesus, even after breaking her promise to Tythra. In the past sixteen years never had Tythra hated her husband. Not once.
In the past sixteen years never had Tythra thought her husband could be alive.
She didn’t respond. She continued to look at him, unable to sort through her thoughts or her emotions. That was until she felt a bit of wetness hit her. Her eyes cast up angrily, annoyed at the sudden leak that sprung in her roof. Only then did she realize something… her roof wasn’t leaking. Tears were sliding down her face.A strange sight to say the least. The last time she remembered crying was when her brother told her of Thesus’s death.
Thesus was alive.
Suddenly a wave of emotion hit Tythra all at once. She felt like she was drowning. The woman who never felt emotion- who considered them weakness was suffocating under them. It didn’t show in her face, just the tears as they made little rivers on her cheeks. But on the inside… it was turmoil. How was he alive? Why was he gone? Why was he gone for sixteen years?
Sixteen years! Now came the fury. She was alone for sixteen years. She raised two daughters alone for sixteen years. And then suddenly, when all the other men are off to war, he thought he could just walk back into the house? Without warning- without an explanation, he was here in front of Tythra?
“Get out.”
A proper lady is collected, calm, and charismatic.
“GET OUT!”
She is never overshadowed and never forgets her manners.
Her mother’s teachings rang in her head, but it was gone at this very instance as she finally moved towards Thesus. She tried hitting him in the arm. Tythra was a mess- an overemotional mess. She was everything that she hated, everything that she tried to teach her daughters not to be.
But she was furious. Furious that Thesus was gone for so long. Furious that he would come back after so long. Furious that if her daughters were to see this- they would be in so much pain, pain just as agonizing as it was for Tythra. It took so long after his death for Tythra to build herself back up again. She led this house, she raised her family, she did everything. And now he appears before her… like nothing happened?
Everything happened. Tythra’s world ended when her brother delivered the news. She wept and she mourned. She laid in her empty bed alone, feeling the coldness that was left when her husband passed away.
But then she picked herself up and moved on. She moved on to another life… a life without her husband.
A life he disrupted once again.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Dec 29, 2020 3:56:50 GMT
Posted In A Homecoming on Dec 29, 2020 3:56:50 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
I won’t forgive you if you’re lying, Thesus. I’ll hate you forever. How Tythra hated her last words to her husband. He had promised that he would be home quickly. She’d blink and he’d be there, reading bedtime stories to Imeeya. And that…. That was Tythra’s response. Of course, she didn’t hate Thesus, even after breaking her promise to Tythra. In the past sixteen years never had Tythra hated her husband. Not once.
In the past sixteen years never had Tythra thought her husband could be alive.
She didn’t respond. She continued to look at him, unable to sort through her thoughts or her emotions. That was until she felt a bit of wetness hit her. Her eyes cast up angrily, annoyed at the sudden leak that sprung in her roof. Only then did she realize something… her roof wasn’t leaking. Tears were sliding down her face.A strange sight to say the least. The last time she remembered crying was when her brother told her of Thesus’s death.
Thesus was alive.
Suddenly a wave of emotion hit Tythra all at once. She felt like she was drowning. The woman who never felt emotion- who considered them weakness was suffocating under them. It didn’t show in her face, just the tears as they made little rivers on her cheeks. But on the inside… it was turmoil. How was he alive? Why was he gone? Why was he gone for sixteen years?
Sixteen years! Now came the fury. She was alone for sixteen years. She raised two daughters alone for sixteen years. And then suddenly, when all the other men are off to war, he thought he could just walk back into the house? Without warning- without an explanation, he was here in front of Tythra?
“Get out.”
A proper lady is collected, calm, and charismatic.
“GET OUT!”
She is never overshadowed and never forgets her manners.
Her mother’s teachings rang in her head, but it was gone at this very instance as she finally moved towards Thesus. She tried hitting him in the arm. Tythra was a mess- an overemotional mess. She was everything that she hated, everything that she tried to teach her daughters not to be.
But she was furious. Furious that Thesus was gone for so long. Furious that he would come back after so long. Furious that if her daughters were to see this- they would be in so much pain, pain just as agonizing as it was for Tythra. It took so long after his death for Tythra to build herself back up again. She led this house, she raised her family, she did everything. And now he appears before her… like nothing happened?
Everything happened. Tythra’s world ended when her brother delivered the news. She wept and she mourned. She laid in her empty bed alone, feeling the coldness that was left when her husband passed away.
But then she picked herself up and moved on. She moved on to another life… a life without her husband.
A life he disrupted once again.
I won’t forgive you if you’re lying, Thesus. I’ll hate you forever. How Tythra hated her last words to her husband. He had promised that he would be home quickly. She’d blink and he’d be there, reading bedtime stories to Imeeya. And that…. That was Tythra’s response. Of course, she didn’t hate Thesus, even after breaking her promise to Tythra. In the past sixteen years never had Tythra hated her husband. Not once.
In the past sixteen years never had Tythra thought her husband could be alive.
She didn’t respond. She continued to look at him, unable to sort through her thoughts or her emotions. That was until she felt a bit of wetness hit her. Her eyes cast up angrily, annoyed at the sudden leak that sprung in her roof. Only then did she realize something… her roof wasn’t leaking. Tears were sliding down her face.A strange sight to say the least. The last time she remembered crying was when her brother told her of Thesus’s death.
Thesus was alive.
Suddenly a wave of emotion hit Tythra all at once. She felt like she was drowning. The woman who never felt emotion- who considered them weakness was suffocating under them. It didn’t show in her face, just the tears as they made little rivers on her cheeks. But on the inside… it was turmoil. How was he alive? Why was he gone? Why was he gone for sixteen years?
Sixteen years! Now came the fury. She was alone for sixteen years. She raised two daughters alone for sixteen years. And then suddenly, when all the other men are off to war, he thought he could just walk back into the house? Without warning- without an explanation, he was here in front of Tythra?
“Get out.”
A proper lady is collected, calm, and charismatic.
“GET OUT!”
She is never overshadowed and never forgets her manners.
Her mother’s teachings rang in her head, but it was gone at this very instance as she finally moved towards Thesus. She tried hitting him in the arm. Tythra was a mess- an overemotional mess. She was everything that she hated, everything that she tried to teach her daughters not to be.
But she was furious. Furious that Thesus was gone for so long. Furious that he would come back after so long. Furious that if her daughters were to see this- they would be in so much pain, pain just as agonizing as it was for Tythra. It took so long after his death for Tythra to build herself back up again. She led this house, she raised her family, she did everything. And now he appears before her… like nothing happened?
Everything happened. Tythra’s world ended when her brother delivered the news. She wept and she mourned. She laid in her empty bed alone, feeling the coldness that was left when her husband passed away.
But then she picked herself up and moved on. She moved on to another life… a life without her husband.
A life he disrupted once again.
In Imeeya’s life, she could not remember a single time she had heard her mother raise her voice. She had seen her mother angry, or so she had thought. The emotion was always conveyed with a piercing stare, a subtle facial expression, a tone of voice. She always knew when she was in trouble even before her mother spoke a word. Never did her mother yell. That would be unladylike, or so she was always being told. That she might raise her voice when she was angry was one of her biggest faults as far as her mother was concerned.
Imeeya was in her room flipping through the pages of one of the recent reports from the provinces when she heard her mother’s voice ring out through the house. Immediately, Imeeya was alarmed. Something must have gone horribly wrong for her mother to be shouting. Not only that, but she was yelling for someone to leave. Clearly, her mother must be in danger. Not even considering that they employed guards for just such circumstances, Imeeya sprung into action.
She grabbed a mirror from her vanity. It was the nearest thing she could reach that had some heft and use as a weapon. She ran down the stairs to the sitting room where she had heard her mother’s voice call out. She pulled open the door to the room to find her mother alone with a strange man. One look at him identified him as someone well below her station, shabby clothes, thin as if he’d not had enough to eat in his life, calloused hands. Someone who should not even be in their sitting room, much less alone with her mother in it. A quick glance showed that they were quite alone, not a guard or even a servant in sight. As she looked to her mother, she saw the anger in her eyes, that part was familiar, but the rest was almost incomprehensible. Tears, she had never known her mother to cry, and what was that look on her face? The expression was almost pained.
Her gaze went back to the strange man, narrowing in anger. No one hurt her mother and got away with it. “I swear, if you’ve done anything to hurt her,” Imeeya growled, advancing on the man, mirror held threateningly in case he were to suddenly lunge in the direction of her or her mother. “Guards!” Where were the guards anyways? How on earth were they taking so long to respond to this situation? “I need this man restrained!” She was quite certain someone was going to end up fired over this situation, but that would be dealt with later. The first thing was to make sure her mother was safe and to...console her? That final part left Imeeya completely baffled. She had not thought her mother capable of tears. The idea that she might need to be comforted like a child was distinctly unsettling.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Dec 29, 2020 4:49:25 GMT
Posted In A Homecoming on Dec 29, 2020 4:49:25 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
In Imeeya’s life, she could not remember a single time she had heard her mother raise her voice. She had seen her mother angry, or so she had thought. The emotion was always conveyed with a piercing stare, a subtle facial expression, a tone of voice. She always knew when she was in trouble even before her mother spoke a word. Never did her mother yell. That would be unladylike, or so she was always being told. That she might raise her voice when she was angry was one of her biggest faults as far as her mother was concerned.
Imeeya was in her room flipping through the pages of one of the recent reports from the provinces when she heard her mother’s voice ring out through the house. Immediately, Imeeya was alarmed. Something must have gone horribly wrong for her mother to be shouting. Not only that, but she was yelling for someone to leave. Clearly, her mother must be in danger. Not even considering that they employed guards for just such circumstances, Imeeya sprung into action.
She grabbed a mirror from her vanity. It was the nearest thing she could reach that had some heft and use as a weapon. She ran down the stairs to the sitting room where she had heard her mother’s voice call out. She pulled open the door to the room to find her mother alone with a strange man. One look at him identified him as someone well below her station, shabby clothes, thin as if he’d not had enough to eat in his life, calloused hands. Someone who should not even be in their sitting room, much less alone with her mother in it. A quick glance showed that they were quite alone, not a guard or even a servant in sight. As she looked to her mother, she saw the anger in her eyes, that part was familiar, but the rest was almost incomprehensible. Tears, she had never known her mother to cry, and what was that look on her face? The expression was almost pained.
Her gaze went back to the strange man, narrowing in anger. No one hurt her mother and got away with it. “I swear, if you’ve done anything to hurt her,” Imeeya growled, advancing on the man, mirror held threateningly in case he were to suddenly lunge in the direction of her or her mother. “Guards!” Where were the guards anyways? How on earth were they taking so long to respond to this situation? “I need this man restrained!” She was quite certain someone was going to end up fired over this situation, but that would be dealt with later. The first thing was to make sure her mother was safe and to...console her? That final part left Imeeya completely baffled. She had not thought her mother capable of tears. The idea that she might need to be comforted like a child was distinctly unsettling.
In Imeeya’s life, she could not remember a single time she had heard her mother raise her voice. She had seen her mother angry, or so she had thought. The emotion was always conveyed with a piercing stare, a subtle facial expression, a tone of voice. She always knew when she was in trouble even before her mother spoke a word. Never did her mother yell. That would be unladylike, or so she was always being told. That she might raise her voice when she was angry was one of her biggest faults as far as her mother was concerned.
Imeeya was in her room flipping through the pages of one of the recent reports from the provinces when she heard her mother’s voice ring out through the house. Immediately, Imeeya was alarmed. Something must have gone horribly wrong for her mother to be shouting. Not only that, but she was yelling for someone to leave. Clearly, her mother must be in danger. Not even considering that they employed guards for just such circumstances, Imeeya sprung into action.
She grabbed a mirror from her vanity. It was the nearest thing she could reach that had some heft and use as a weapon. She ran down the stairs to the sitting room where she had heard her mother’s voice call out. She pulled open the door to the room to find her mother alone with a strange man. One look at him identified him as someone well below her station, shabby clothes, thin as if he’d not had enough to eat in his life, calloused hands. Someone who should not even be in their sitting room, much less alone with her mother in it. A quick glance showed that they were quite alone, not a guard or even a servant in sight. As she looked to her mother, she saw the anger in her eyes, that part was familiar, but the rest was almost incomprehensible. Tears, she had never known her mother to cry, and what was that look on her face? The expression was almost pained.
Her gaze went back to the strange man, narrowing in anger. No one hurt her mother and got away with it. “I swear, if you’ve done anything to hurt her,” Imeeya growled, advancing on the man, mirror held threateningly in case he were to suddenly lunge in the direction of her or her mother. “Guards!” Where were the guards anyways? How on earth were they taking so long to respond to this situation? “I need this man restrained!” She was quite certain someone was going to end up fired over this situation, but that would be dealt with later. The first thing was to make sure her mother was safe and to...console her? That final part left Imeeya completely baffled. She had not thought her mother capable of tears. The idea that she might need to be comforted like a child was distinctly unsettling.
Essa felt lighter than she had going home in a long time. Staying with her cousin’s family had certainly been good for her. But she still loved her mother and sister dearly. Even if on occasion she needed a break from being so constantly in opposition with them. There was never a lack of love between them. Even when Imeeya looked at her as though she had grown a second head, or when her mother seemed to only hold disapproving glares for her. The love between them was never questioned.
Not that that was ever enough to keep her from feeling like an outsider in her own home. Her own family even.
Her mother had often said she took more after her father. In appearance and demeanor. So it was only natural that she had spent much time imagining the father she might have had. Someone who would understand her softer nature. Someone who might support her in her struggles rather than criticizing her for them. Someone who might remind her mother that not all women could follow in her footsteps. That there was nothing wrong with Essa for falling short of Tythra’s expectations.
But her father was long gone. He’d been dead as long as she herself had been alive after all.
As she stepped foot into her home, she entered into quite the chaotic scene. Her sister screaming. No... wait... that was her mother’s voice, not Imeeya’s. Yet... she had never heard her mother raise her voice in such a manner. A proper lady is collected, calm, and charismatic. She never forgets her manners. She had heard this mantra perhaps a thousand times throughout her life. And her mother embodied it in a way no other woman she ever met had.
So what could possibly have happened to break her iron composure? Whatever it was, it was more than enough to frighten Essa. The guards looked at each other, prepared to jump into action, yet the head guard held up a hand, forcing them to stand by. Her eyes looked to him, confusion and worry etched upon her every feature.
Suddenly Imeeya burst down the stairs and into the sitting room in a flurry of motion - quickly enough that she didn’t even see her sister standing there. Though in all fairness, seeing a diminutive girl such as her amongst the guards was perhaps a bit of a challenge. Was that a mirror she had been carrying? Could this get any stranger? Yet as she heard her sister call for the guards and saw that same silent order to remain still... Essa knew something important was happening.
It was that which set her own feet into motion, entering the room herself. The first thing she saw was her sister brandishing a mirror as a weapon, held out towards some stranger menacingly. Then the baffled expression she wore as she glanced back at their mother. One that Essa soon wore as well seeing the tears upon their mother’s face. She had never seen her mother shed a single tear before. If she cried at all, she did so only in complete privacy and in truth, Essa doubted even that. It was why Tythra had no tolerance for her daughter’s emotions after all. She felt that if she could lock hers away, it was a simple matter for Essa to do the same. Never mind that they seemed to feel things very differently.
Still, she ran instantly to her mother, wrapping an arm around her back and taking hold on her arms in a gentle embrace. “Mama, what’s wrong?” she asked, caring only for her mother’s obvious and very out of character distress. Only then did her gaze drift to the man before them all. Her eyes narrowed, trying to place his face and failing. “Who is this man? What has he done to cause you such distress?”
Fearing her mother was in no state to answer, she turned her eyes back to the stranger. Her mother would never wish anyone to see her this way. That much she knew with complete certainty. “Perhaps it is best if you left. If you leave your name and lodging with one of our guards, I will see that you receive some sort of reply regarding the reason for your visit once everyone has had time to recover their composure. Surely you must possess enough compassion to realize there is nothing productive that can be accomplished in such a chaotic state. If you’re patient, I will see to it that you are fairly dealt with. You have my word.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Dec 29, 2020 5:48:50 GMT
Posted In A Homecoming on Dec 29, 2020 5:48:50 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Essa felt lighter than she had going home in a long time. Staying with her cousin’s family had certainly been good for her. But she still loved her mother and sister dearly. Even if on occasion she needed a break from being so constantly in opposition with them. There was never a lack of love between them. Even when Imeeya looked at her as though she had grown a second head, or when her mother seemed to only hold disapproving glares for her. The love between them was never questioned.
Not that that was ever enough to keep her from feeling like an outsider in her own home. Her own family even.
Her mother had often said she took more after her father. In appearance and demeanor. So it was only natural that she had spent much time imagining the father she might have had. Someone who would understand her softer nature. Someone who might support her in her struggles rather than criticizing her for them. Someone who might remind her mother that not all women could follow in her footsteps. That there was nothing wrong with Essa for falling short of Tythra’s expectations.
But her father was long gone. He’d been dead as long as she herself had been alive after all.
As she stepped foot into her home, she entered into quite the chaotic scene. Her sister screaming. No... wait... that was her mother’s voice, not Imeeya’s. Yet... she had never heard her mother raise her voice in such a manner. A proper lady is collected, calm, and charismatic. She never forgets her manners. She had heard this mantra perhaps a thousand times throughout her life. And her mother embodied it in a way no other woman she ever met had.
So what could possibly have happened to break her iron composure? Whatever it was, it was more than enough to frighten Essa. The guards looked at each other, prepared to jump into action, yet the head guard held up a hand, forcing them to stand by. Her eyes looked to him, confusion and worry etched upon her every feature.
Suddenly Imeeya burst down the stairs and into the sitting room in a flurry of motion - quickly enough that she didn’t even see her sister standing there. Though in all fairness, seeing a diminutive girl such as her amongst the guards was perhaps a bit of a challenge. Was that a mirror she had been carrying? Could this get any stranger? Yet as she heard her sister call for the guards and saw that same silent order to remain still... Essa knew something important was happening.
It was that which set her own feet into motion, entering the room herself. The first thing she saw was her sister brandishing a mirror as a weapon, held out towards some stranger menacingly. Then the baffled expression she wore as she glanced back at their mother. One that Essa soon wore as well seeing the tears upon their mother’s face. She had never seen her mother shed a single tear before. If she cried at all, she did so only in complete privacy and in truth, Essa doubted even that. It was why Tythra had no tolerance for her daughter’s emotions after all. She felt that if she could lock hers away, it was a simple matter for Essa to do the same. Never mind that they seemed to feel things very differently.
Still, she ran instantly to her mother, wrapping an arm around her back and taking hold on her arms in a gentle embrace. “Mama, what’s wrong?” she asked, caring only for her mother’s obvious and very out of character distress. Only then did her gaze drift to the man before them all. Her eyes narrowed, trying to place his face and failing. “Who is this man? What has he done to cause you such distress?”
Fearing her mother was in no state to answer, she turned her eyes back to the stranger. Her mother would never wish anyone to see her this way. That much she knew with complete certainty. “Perhaps it is best if you left. If you leave your name and lodging with one of our guards, I will see that you receive some sort of reply regarding the reason for your visit once everyone has had time to recover their composure. Surely you must possess enough compassion to realize there is nothing productive that can be accomplished in such a chaotic state. If you’re patient, I will see to it that you are fairly dealt with. You have my word.”
Essa felt lighter than she had going home in a long time. Staying with her cousin’s family had certainly been good for her. But she still loved her mother and sister dearly. Even if on occasion she needed a break from being so constantly in opposition with them. There was never a lack of love between them. Even when Imeeya looked at her as though she had grown a second head, or when her mother seemed to only hold disapproving glares for her. The love between them was never questioned.
Not that that was ever enough to keep her from feeling like an outsider in her own home. Her own family even.
Her mother had often said she took more after her father. In appearance and demeanor. So it was only natural that she had spent much time imagining the father she might have had. Someone who would understand her softer nature. Someone who might support her in her struggles rather than criticizing her for them. Someone who might remind her mother that not all women could follow in her footsteps. That there was nothing wrong with Essa for falling short of Tythra’s expectations.
But her father was long gone. He’d been dead as long as she herself had been alive after all.
As she stepped foot into her home, she entered into quite the chaotic scene. Her sister screaming. No... wait... that was her mother’s voice, not Imeeya’s. Yet... she had never heard her mother raise her voice in such a manner. A proper lady is collected, calm, and charismatic. She never forgets her manners. She had heard this mantra perhaps a thousand times throughout her life. And her mother embodied it in a way no other woman she ever met had.
So what could possibly have happened to break her iron composure? Whatever it was, it was more than enough to frighten Essa. The guards looked at each other, prepared to jump into action, yet the head guard held up a hand, forcing them to stand by. Her eyes looked to him, confusion and worry etched upon her every feature.
Suddenly Imeeya burst down the stairs and into the sitting room in a flurry of motion - quickly enough that she didn’t even see her sister standing there. Though in all fairness, seeing a diminutive girl such as her amongst the guards was perhaps a bit of a challenge. Was that a mirror she had been carrying? Could this get any stranger? Yet as she heard her sister call for the guards and saw that same silent order to remain still... Essa knew something important was happening.
It was that which set her own feet into motion, entering the room herself. The first thing she saw was her sister brandishing a mirror as a weapon, held out towards some stranger menacingly. Then the baffled expression she wore as she glanced back at their mother. One that Essa soon wore as well seeing the tears upon their mother’s face. She had never seen her mother shed a single tear before. If she cried at all, she did so only in complete privacy and in truth, Essa doubted even that. It was why Tythra had no tolerance for her daughter’s emotions after all. She felt that if she could lock hers away, it was a simple matter for Essa to do the same. Never mind that they seemed to feel things very differently.
Still, she ran instantly to her mother, wrapping an arm around her back and taking hold on her arms in a gentle embrace. “Mama, what’s wrong?” she asked, caring only for her mother’s obvious and very out of character distress. Only then did her gaze drift to the man before them all. Her eyes narrowed, trying to place his face and failing. “Who is this man? What has he done to cause you such distress?”
Fearing her mother was in no state to answer, she turned her eyes back to the stranger. Her mother would never wish anyone to see her this way. That much she knew with complete certainty. “Perhaps it is best if you left. If you leave your name and lodging with one of our guards, I will see that you receive some sort of reply regarding the reason for your visit once everyone has had time to recover their composure. Surely you must possess enough compassion to realize there is nothing productive that can be accomplished in such a chaotic state. If you’re patient, I will see to it that you are fairly dealt with. You have my word.”
Watching his wife’s face morph as her mind obviously dealt with the myriad of emotions that she was now experiencing, Thesus could do nothing but watch. He wasn’t close enough to her to see the tears escaping from her eyes, but he could see the emotion on her face, no matter how hard she tried to school her expressions into something more cold and uncaring. Thesus wanted to go over to her, to embrace hr in his arms and tell her everything would be okay now.
She had thought him dead these past sixteen years, and had spent the time turning fake Thesuses away from her door, always sure in the knowledge that he hadn’t survived the war he went off to fight. And now, faced with the real Thesus, he could tell that she was struggling to marry up the two opposing ideas. He watched the final emotion, anger - nay fury slip onto her expression. She told him to get out. Twice, the second more desperate than the first.
Thesus didn’t move from where he stood, and he opened his mouth to speak again but no words came out, instead he watched in silence as the woman approached him, arm raised, and she struck him with as much force as she could muster. For his part, Thesus didn’t move, except enough to keep the blow from hurting his wife. He moved with the force of her hand against him, allowing her whatever release it gave her… if anything.
“You don’t mean that,” he said softly, taking her hands in his to stop her from exacting another blow on his person. He knew his wife, even after sixteen years apart, she couldn’t have changed that much. She wanted him gone, but she also didn’t, Thesus knew that.
The door flung open and a girl, no older than about twenty, burst into the room. Had the situation not been so serious, Thesus would have laughed at her almost comical pose, with the mirror in her hand as some form of weapon. He left go of his wife and took a step back, gazing at the young woman who could only be Imeeya. A smile broke across his face for the first time. His daughter, standing before him. Oh, how much he had missed, but she had grown to be just as beautiful as her mother. “Imeeya…” he whispered as the reality of his situation set in. With his wife, he could pretend no time had passed, but he would not be so lucky with his daughter.
The girl threatened him and Thesus took another instinctive step back from his wife, hands tased in a placatory fashion, as if to show he had done Tythra no harm. Then the guards were called back into the room. Four appeared, now just as confused as anyone else and wondering whose orders they should be following: the daughter, the Head of the house, or the returned-from-the-dead man who claimed to be their lord?
Then, following in behind the guards, came a second girl, this one younger, perhaps fifteen or sixteen. She took in the scene in a brief second and then was approaching Tythra, speaking to her as if - wait… Mama? Thesus’ gaze flew to look at Tythra again, shocked and a more than a little hurt that Tythra had moved on from him so quickly, if the girl truly was of an age with his departure, faked death, and capture. He wondered who the new man was in her life, who had probably comforted her and wormed his way into her bed. He wondered if there were any more of this other man’s offspring roaming about his - his home.
The younger girl spoke and she reminded Thesus so much of… well… himself. She had the gift of calm diplomacy, even when everyone else in the room was displaying heightened emotions, as if ready to do battle right in the room they were standing in. Thesus thought it a good idea, what this girl was suggesting… only, he did not have lodgings. He did not even have a penny to his name, having been freed from slavery with naught but the clothes on his back. He had sold himself as a labourer to make the crossing back to Colchis. He could not just… well he could. But he didn’t want to.
And he didn’t want to push his wife too far… perhaps he already had. The smile was long gone now. He was sorry for that. Sighing, he gazed down at his wife, still wrapped in her younger daughter’s arms. “Perhaps you are right.” Tythra had told him to leave, after all, and the two girls had no idea who he was clearly but they both wanted him gone as well. It would not do to push his way into their lives before they were ready for him. He bowed his head, “Your Highness,” he said by way of parting goodbye to his wife. It was weird saying that after all this time: he had not called her that since before they were married. But it was the expected protocol, he turned and made his exit from the room.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Dec 29, 2020 13:35:34 GMT
Posted In A Homecoming on Dec 29, 2020 13:35:34 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Watching his wife’s face morph as her mind obviously dealt with the myriad of emotions that she was now experiencing, Thesus could do nothing but watch. He wasn’t close enough to her to see the tears escaping from her eyes, but he could see the emotion on her face, no matter how hard she tried to school her expressions into something more cold and uncaring. Thesus wanted to go over to her, to embrace hr in his arms and tell her everything would be okay now.
She had thought him dead these past sixteen years, and had spent the time turning fake Thesuses away from her door, always sure in the knowledge that he hadn’t survived the war he went off to fight. And now, faced with the real Thesus, he could tell that she was struggling to marry up the two opposing ideas. He watched the final emotion, anger - nay fury slip onto her expression. She told him to get out. Twice, the second more desperate than the first.
Thesus didn’t move from where he stood, and he opened his mouth to speak again but no words came out, instead he watched in silence as the woman approached him, arm raised, and she struck him with as much force as she could muster. For his part, Thesus didn’t move, except enough to keep the blow from hurting his wife. He moved with the force of her hand against him, allowing her whatever release it gave her… if anything.
“You don’t mean that,” he said softly, taking her hands in his to stop her from exacting another blow on his person. He knew his wife, even after sixteen years apart, she couldn’t have changed that much. She wanted him gone, but she also didn’t, Thesus knew that.
The door flung open and a girl, no older than about twenty, burst into the room. Had the situation not been so serious, Thesus would have laughed at her almost comical pose, with the mirror in her hand as some form of weapon. He left go of his wife and took a step back, gazing at the young woman who could only be Imeeya. A smile broke across his face for the first time. His daughter, standing before him. Oh, how much he had missed, but she had grown to be just as beautiful as her mother. “Imeeya…” he whispered as the reality of his situation set in. With his wife, he could pretend no time had passed, but he would not be so lucky with his daughter.
The girl threatened him and Thesus took another instinctive step back from his wife, hands tased in a placatory fashion, as if to show he had done Tythra no harm. Then the guards were called back into the room. Four appeared, now just as confused as anyone else and wondering whose orders they should be following: the daughter, the Head of the house, or the returned-from-the-dead man who claimed to be their lord?
Then, following in behind the guards, came a second girl, this one younger, perhaps fifteen or sixteen. She took in the scene in a brief second and then was approaching Tythra, speaking to her as if - wait… Mama? Thesus’ gaze flew to look at Tythra again, shocked and a more than a little hurt that Tythra had moved on from him so quickly, if the girl truly was of an age with his departure, faked death, and capture. He wondered who the new man was in her life, who had probably comforted her and wormed his way into her bed. He wondered if there were any more of this other man’s offspring roaming about his - his home.
The younger girl spoke and she reminded Thesus so much of… well… himself. She had the gift of calm diplomacy, even when everyone else in the room was displaying heightened emotions, as if ready to do battle right in the room they were standing in. Thesus thought it a good idea, what this girl was suggesting… only, he did not have lodgings. He did not even have a penny to his name, having been freed from slavery with naught but the clothes on his back. He had sold himself as a labourer to make the crossing back to Colchis. He could not just… well he could. But he didn’t want to.
And he didn’t want to push his wife too far… perhaps he already had. The smile was long gone now. He was sorry for that. Sighing, he gazed down at his wife, still wrapped in her younger daughter’s arms. “Perhaps you are right.” Tythra had told him to leave, after all, and the two girls had no idea who he was clearly but they both wanted him gone as well. It would not do to push his way into their lives before they were ready for him. He bowed his head, “Your Highness,” he said by way of parting goodbye to his wife. It was weird saying that after all this time: he had not called her that since before they were married. But it was the expected protocol, he turned and made his exit from the room.
Watching his wife’s face morph as her mind obviously dealt with the myriad of emotions that she was now experiencing, Thesus could do nothing but watch. He wasn’t close enough to her to see the tears escaping from her eyes, but he could see the emotion on her face, no matter how hard she tried to school her expressions into something more cold and uncaring. Thesus wanted to go over to her, to embrace hr in his arms and tell her everything would be okay now.
She had thought him dead these past sixteen years, and had spent the time turning fake Thesuses away from her door, always sure in the knowledge that he hadn’t survived the war he went off to fight. And now, faced with the real Thesus, he could tell that she was struggling to marry up the two opposing ideas. He watched the final emotion, anger - nay fury slip onto her expression. She told him to get out. Twice, the second more desperate than the first.
Thesus didn’t move from where he stood, and he opened his mouth to speak again but no words came out, instead he watched in silence as the woman approached him, arm raised, and she struck him with as much force as she could muster. For his part, Thesus didn’t move, except enough to keep the blow from hurting his wife. He moved with the force of her hand against him, allowing her whatever release it gave her… if anything.
“You don’t mean that,” he said softly, taking her hands in his to stop her from exacting another blow on his person. He knew his wife, even after sixteen years apart, she couldn’t have changed that much. She wanted him gone, but she also didn’t, Thesus knew that.
The door flung open and a girl, no older than about twenty, burst into the room. Had the situation not been so serious, Thesus would have laughed at her almost comical pose, with the mirror in her hand as some form of weapon. He left go of his wife and took a step back, gazing at the young woman who could only be Imeeya. A smile broke across his face for the first time. His daughter, standing before him. Oh, how much he had missed, but she had grown to be just as beautiful as her mother. “Imeeya…” he whispered as the reality of his situation set in. With his wife, he could pretend no time had passed, but he would not be so lucky with his daughter.
The girl threatened him and Thesus took another instinctive step back from his wife, hands tased in a placatory fashion, as if to show he had done Tythra no harm. Then the guards were called back into the room. Four appeared, now just as confused as anyone else and wondering whose orders they should be following: the daughter, the Head of the house, or the returned-from-the-dead man who claimed to be their lord?
Then, following in behind the guards, came a second girl, this one younger, perhaps fifteen or sixteen. She took in the scene in a brief second and then was approaching Tythra, speaking to her as if - wait… Mama? Thesus’ gaze flew to look at Tythra again, shocked and a more than a little hurt that Tythra had moved on from him so quickly, if the girl truly was of an age with his departure, faked death, and capture. He wondered who the new man was in her life, who had probably comforted her and wormed his way into her bed. He wondered if there were any more of this other man’s offspring roaming about his - his home.
The younger girl spoke and she reminded Thesus so much of… well… himself. She had the gift of calm diplomacy, even when everyone else in the room was displaying heightened emotions, as if ready to do battle right in the room they were standing in. Thesus thought it a good idea, what this girl was suggesting… only, he did not have lodgings. He did not even have a penny to his name, having been freed from slavery with naught but the clothes on his back. He had sold himself as a labourer to make the crossing back to Colchis. He could not just… well he could. But he didn’t want to.
And he didn’t want to push his wife too far… perhaps he already had. The smile was long gone now. He was sorry for that. Sighing, he gazed down at his wife, still wrapped in her younger daughter’s arms. “Perhaps you are right.” Tythra had told him to leave, after all, and the two girls had no idea who he was clearly but they both wanted him gone as well. It would not do to push his way into their lives before they were ready for him. He bowed his head, “Your Highness,” he said by way of parting goodbye to his wife. It was weird saying that after all this time: he had not called her that since before they were married. But it was the expected protocol, he turned and made his exit from the room.
You don’t mean that.
But Tythra did. Or maybe she didn’t? The fact that Thesus was in front of her was like a dream, but also like a nightmare. The Drakos woman has long since moved on from the death of her husband. She mourned him as any dignified woman should, then went on with her business. She served the Drakos family, not just preserving their riches but growing them. She fought for her place at Senate and continued to fight so one-day Imeeya would have her own seat there as well. All this… after she had dealt with her emotions about Thesus’s demise.
But what happens if he truly was back?
Tythra was not in the proper mind to ponder this. Emotion still swelled within her, grabbing her and trying to drown herself within them. And then all of a sudden another entered the room. Imeeya brandishing a mirror-like it was some sort of weapon.
Imeeya… he whispered. It was then that Tythra knew… knew this was real. It sounded just like when Imeeya was born when he first laid eyes on her. Only different, more… heavy. Like a man gone for 16 years.
And then she felt angry all over again. Because he did not have the right to say Imeeya’s name. She was her daughter, not his. Not anymore.
And then sweet Essa came in. When her arm wrapped around her back, Tythra felt her heart squeeze and her throat choke up. So many times Tythra had said to Essa that she was just like her father. From her personality to her looks, she was Thesus’s clone. Never did Tythra imagine them to be in the same room. And she did… look just like him.
But at this moment she acted like Tythra.
So calm, so collected. In the wake of chaos, she was strong, polite, and firm. Such a reversal of roles, where Tythra was the emotional one and Essa was the voice of reason.
But not for much longer.
When Thesus left Tythra made no move to stop him. Her eyes followed his back. The your highness sounded so… foreign to her, despite her expectations of being called just that. Tythra stood, motionless for a second, two. She did not move to stop him, though her insides warred to do just that.
She just didn’t know anymore.
After what felt l like too long Tythra moved. She cupped Essa’s cheek with her one hand, “My good daughter,” She said quietly. “You did well.” She did, she very much did. Her eyes slowly moved to Imeeya as well. “Thank you for protecting me.”
A sign that Tythra’s wall was completely broken down- at least for the moment. For Tythra would typically lecture Imeeya for being so brash, to rushing in there with a weapon when they had guards. But the fact that Imeeya would spring to Tythra’s defense was… touching. Even though if a single hair was ever harmed on Imeeya’s head, Tythra would rip apart the earth to punish whoever did that.
The Princess moved over to a small table that held drinks, usually reserved for company. Tythra preferred tea but the moment called for something… stronger. Her hand hovered over the goblets before choosing to pour three glasses- not just one.
“That man…” Tythra started to say, still facing the drinks. She did not look at her daughters. She couldn’t. She didn’t even know if she wanted to tell them. But.. if she didn’t… that would be far crueler.
They need to be prepared.
Tythra was a cold mother. She was a strict mother. She did not give them the… emotional support that other mothers gave their children. The Kotas blood that ran through her veins prevented that. But… it was also her way of protecting them. They were strong women, capable of anything they put their minds to.
But this sort of… revelation would be more pain than Tythra could ever justify inflicting upon them.
There was no winning situation. If Tythra remained silent and they found out by other means, that would leave them unprepared and exposed. If she told them the truth, she’d… be opening a wound they may not even know they had.
And what if this was all just one big, awful trick?
He looked liked Thesus. He sounded like Thesus. Tythra believed he was Thesus. But a part of her didn’t. Was it hope? Or was it logic? The dead don’t come back to life, and yet there he stood. What did this all mean?
“That man…” Tythra swallowed. She turned towards both her daughters, handing them a goblet of wine. “Claims to be your father. And… I… I might believe him.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Jan 27, 2021 3:35:57 GMT
Posted In A Homecoming on Jan 27, 2021 3:35:57 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
You don’t mean that.
But Tythra did. Or maybe she didn’t? The fact that Thesus was in front of her was like a dream, but also like a nightmare. The Drakos woman has long since moved on from the death of her husband. She mourned him as any dignified woman should, then went on with her business. She served the Drakos family, not just preserving their riches but growing them. She fought for her place at Senate and continued to fight so one-day Imeeya would have her own seat there as well. All this… after she had dealt with her emotions about Thesus’s demise.
But what happens if he truly was back?
Tythra was not in the proper mind to ponder this. Emotion still swelled within her, grabbing her and trying to drown herself within them. And then all of a sudden another entered the room. Imeeya brandishing a mirror-like it was some sort of weapon.
Imeeya… he whispered. It was then that Tythra knew… knew this was real. It sounded just like when Imeeya was born when he first laid eyes on her. Only different, more… heavy. Like a man gone for 16 years.
And then she felt angry all over again. Because he did not have the right to say Imeeya’s name. She was her daughter, not his. Not anymore.
And then sweet Essa came in. When her arm wrapped around her back, Tythra felt her heart squeeze and her throat choke up. So many times Tythra had said to Essa that she was just like her father. From her personality to her looks, she was Thesus’s clone. Never did Tythra imagine them to be in the same room. And she did… look just like him.
But at this moment she acted like Tythra.
So calm, so collected. In the wake of chaos, she was strong, polite, and firm. Such a reversal of roles, where Tythra was the emotional one and Essa was the voice of reason.
But not for much longer.
When Thesus left Tythra made no move to stop him. Her eyes followed his back. The your highness sounded so… foreign to her, despite her expectations of being called just that. Tythra stood, motionless for a second, two. She did not move to stop him, though her insides warred to do just that.
She just didn’t know anymore.
After what felt l like too long Tythra moved. She cupped Essa’s cheek with her one hand, “My good daughter,” She said quietly. “You did well.” She did, she very much did. Her eyes slowly moved to Imeeya as well. “Thank you for protecting me.”
A sign that Tythra’s wall was completely broken down- at least for the moment. For Tythra would typically lecture Imeeya for being so brash, to rushing in there with a weapon when they had guards. But the fact that Imeeya would spring to Tythra’s defense was… touching. Even though if a single hair was ever harmed on Imeeya’s head, Tythra would rip apart the earth to punish whoever did that.
The Princess moved over to a small table that held drinks, usually reserved for company. Tythra preferred tea but the moment called for something… stronger. Her hand hovered over the goblets before choosing to pour three glasses- not just one.
“That man…” Tythra started to say, still facing the drinks. She did not look at her daughters. She couldn’t. She didn’t even know if she wanted to tell them. But.. if she didn’t… that would be far crueler.
They need to be prepared.
Tythra was a cold mother. She was a strict mother. She did not give them the… emotional support that other mothers gave their children. The Kotas blood that ran through her veins prevented that. But… it was also her way of protecting them. They were strong women, capable of anything they put their minds to.
But this sort of… revelation would be more pain than Tythra could ever justify inflicting upon them.
There was no winning situation. If Tythra remained silent and they found out by other means, that would leave them unprepared and exposed. If she told them the truth, she’d… be opening a wound they may not even know they had.
And what if this was all just one big, awful trick?
He looked liked Thesus. He sounded like Thesus. Tythra believed he was Thesus. But a part of her didn’t. Was it hope? Or was it logic? The dead don’t come back to life, and yet there he stood. What did this all mean?
“That man…” Tythra swallowed. She turned towards both her daughters, handing them a goblet of wine. “Claims to be your father. And… I… I might believe him.”
You don’t mean that.
But Tythra did. Or maybe she didn’t? The fact that Thesus was in front of her was like a dream, but also like a nightmare. The Drakos woman has long since moved on from the death of her husband. She mourned him as any dignified woman should, then went on with her business. She served the Drakos family, not just preserving their riches but growing them. She fought for her place at Senate and continued to fight so one-day Imeeya would have her own seat there as well. All this… after she had dealt with her emotions about Thesus’s demise.
But what happens if he truly was back?
Tythra was not in the proper mind to ponder this. Emotion still swelled within her, grabbing her and trying to drown herself within them. And then all of a sudden another entered the room. Imeeya brandishing a mirror-like it was some sort of weapon.
Imeeya… he whispered. It was then that Tythra knew… knew this was real. It sounded just like when Imeeya was born when he first laid eyes on her. Only different, more… heavy. Like a man gone for 16 years.
And then she felt angry all over again. Because he did not have the right to say Imeeya’s name. She was her daughter, not his. Not anymore.
And then sweet Essa came in. When her arm wrapped around her back, Tythra felt her heart squeeze and her throat choke up. So many times Tythra had said to Essa that she was just like her father. From her personality to her looks, she was Thesus’s clone. Never did Tythra imagine them to be in the same room. And she did… look just like him.
But at this moment she acted like Tythra.
So calm, so collected. In the wake of chaos, she was strong, polite, and firm. Such a reversal of roles, where Tythra was the emotional one and Essa was the voice of reason.
But not for much longer.
When Thesus left Tythra made no move to stop him. Her eyes followed his back. The your highness sounded so… foreign to her, despite her expectations of being called just that. Tythra stood, motionless for a second, two. She did not move to stop him, though her insides warred to do just that.
She just didn’t know anymore.
After what felt l like too long Tythra moved. She cupped Essa’s cheek with her one hand, “My good daughter,” She said quietly. “You did well.” She did, she very much did. Her eyes slowly moved to Imeeya as well. “Thank you for protecting me.”
A sign that Tythra’s wall was completely broken down- at least for the moment. For Tythra would typically lecture Imeeya for being so brash, to rushing in there with a weapon when they had guards. But the fact that Imeeya would spring to Tythra’s defense was… touching. Even though if a single hair was ever harmed on Imeeya’s head, Tythra would rip apart the earth to punish whoever did that.
The Princess moved over to a small table that held drinks, usually reserved for company. Tythra preferred tea but the moment called for something… stronger. Her hand hovered over the goblets before choosing to pour three glasses- not just one.
“That man…” Tythra started to say, still facing the drinks. She did not look at her daughters. She couldn’t. She didn’t even know if she wanted to tell them. But.. if she didn’t… that would be far crueler.
They need to be prepared.
Tythra was a cold mother. She was a strict mother. She did not give them the… emotional support that other mothers gave their children. The Kotas blood that ran through her veins prevented that. But… it was also her way of protecting them. They were strong women, capable of anything they put their minds to.
But this sort of… revelation would be more pain than Tythra could ever justify inflicting upon them.
There was no winning situation. If Tythra remained silent and they found out by other means, that would leave them unprepared and exposed. If she told them the truth, she’d… be opening a wound they may not even know they had.
And what if this was all just one big, awful trick?
He looked liked Thesus. He sounded like Thesus. Tythra believed he was Thesus. But a part of her didn’t. Was it hope? Or was it logic? The dead don’t come back to life, and yet there he stood. What did this all mean?
“That man…” Tythra swallowed. She turned towards both her daughters, handing them a goblet of wine. “Claims to be your father. And… I… I might believe him.”
Not that she would ever admit it, but Imeeya was relieved as Essa took up the job of comforting their mother. It was so strange to see her mother in such a state. That she would be so overcome with emotions of any sort at all, it was so unlike her mother. What had this man done to her? As far as she was concerned, the man was not at all welcome if he was going to come into their house and upset her mother.
Imeeya was less happy about the way that Essa resolved the situation with that man. She was just going to let him go? And possibly let him come back later? Had Imeeya not been too angry for words she might have objected to such things. Imeeya’s glare followed the man as he left the room. She would much rather have seen him arrested, but at least this way he was out of their house. She wasn’t going further upset her mother by pushing the issue at this point. He was gone now. That was all that mattered. Hopefully, that would mean that her mother would go back to her normal self once she managed to pull herself together.
The words of approval, so long-awaited rang hollow to Imeeya. She had wanted them, but not like this. This was too easy, her mother’s approval was something hard-won. With her mother acting so emotional and just wrong it just didn’t count. This was not the Princess Tythra she was used to from her mother. This woman was practically a stranger, she wanted her mother’s approval, not approval from whoever this woman was.
With her mother acting so strangely, Imeeya hung on her every movement looking for some clue, some sign of what was going on. Her mother still looked troubled as she grabbed a bottle of wine, the nice stuff normally saved for guests of note. Her mother wouldn’t even look them in the eye. What could be so wrong that she couldn’t even tell them what had happened. Imeeya had half a mind to call the guards to chase the man down. Whatever he had done had to have really shaken her mother. Nothing could have prepared her for what her mother was going to say.
“You can’t be serious. There’s no way that man is of noble blood,” Imeeya objected almost immediately, brushing aside the offer of wine. She couldn’t believe her mother would even consider such a thing. “Our father died years ago,” she continued, starting to work her way up to a full outraged argument, but she paused for a moment at the look in her mother’s eye. This woman standing in front of her was more fragile than she was used to her mother being and she had no desire to upset her even further. She continued in a gentler tone. “I know he must have been convincing but it can’t be true. What’s more likely, that he’s somehow come back from the dead after all these years, or it’s someone who’s managed to figure out how to pull off a very convincing con?”
As far as Imeeya was concerned, if Tythra was going to go off on some wild flight of fancy, she had to be the one to keep a solid head on her shoulders for the sake of the family. She would figure out how to get her mother back to normal and in the meantime, she would hold everything together.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Jan 27, 2021 23:08:52 GMT
Posted In A Homecoming on Jan 27, 2021 23:08:52 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Not that she would ever admit it, but Imeeya was relieved as Essa took up the job of comforting their mother. It was so strange to see her mother in such a state. That she would be so overcome with emotions of any sort at all, it was so unlike her mother. What had this man done to her? As far as she was concerned, the man was not at all welcome if he was going to come into their house and upset her mother.
Imeeya was less happy about the way that Essa resolved the situation with that man. She was just going to let him go? And possibly let him come back later? Had Imeeya not been too angry for words she might have objected to such things. Imeeya’s glare followed the man as he left the room. She would much rather have seen him arrested, but at least this way he was out of their house. She wasn’t going further upset her mother by pushing the issue at this point. He was gone now. That was all that mattered. Hopefully, that would mean that her mother would go back to her normal self once she managed to pull herself together.
The words of approval, so long-awaited rang hollow to Imeeya. She had wanted them, but not like this. This was too easy, her mother’s approval was something hard-won. With her mother acting so emotional and just wrong it just didn’t count. This was not the Princess Tythra she was used to from her mother. This woman was practically a stranger, she wanted her mother’s approval, not approval from whoever this woman was.
With her mother acting so strangely, Imeeya hung on her every movement looking for some clue, some sign of what was going on. Her mother still looked troubled as she grabbed a bottle of wine, the nice stuff normally saved for guests of note. Her mother wouldn’t even look them in the eye. What could be so wrong that she couldn’t even tell them what had happened. Imeeya had half a mind to call the guards to chase the man down. Whatever he had done had to have really shaken her mother. Nothing could have prepared her for what her mother was going to say.
“You can’t be serious. There’s no way that man is of noble blood,” Imeeya objected almost immediately, brushing aside the offer of wine. She couldn’t believe her mother would even consider such a thing. “Our father died years ago,” she continued, starting to work her way up to a full outraged argument, but she paused for a moment at the look in her mother’s eye. This woman standing in front of her was more fragile than she was used to her mother being and she had no desire to upset her even further. She continued in a gentler tone. “I know he must have been convincing but it can’t be true. What’s more likely, that he’s somehow come back from the dead after all these years, or it’s someone who’s managed to figure out how to pull off a very convincing con?”
As far as Imeeya was concerned, if Tythra was going to go off on some wild flight of fancy, she had to be the one to keep a solid head on her shoulders for the sake of the family. She would figure out how to get her mother back to normal and in the meantime, she would hold everything together.
Not that she would ever admit it, but Imeeya was relieved as Essa took up the job of comforting their mother. It was so strange to see her mother in such a state. That she would be so overcome with emotions of any sort at all, it was so unlike her mother. What had this man done to her? As far as she was concerned, the man was not at all welcome if he was going to come into their house and upset her mother.
Imeeya was less happy about the way that Essa resolved the situation with that man. She was just going to let him go? And possibly let him come back later? Had Imeeya not been too angry for words she might have objected to such things. Imeeya’s glare followed the man as he left the room. She would much rather have seen him arrested, but at least this way he was out of their house. She wasn’t going further upset her mother by pushing the issue at this point. He was gone now. That was all that mattered. Hopefully, that would mean that her mother would go back to her normal self once she managed to pull herself together.
The words of approval, so long-awaited rang hollow to Imeeya. She had wanted them, but not like this. This was too easy, her mother’s approval was something hard-won. With her mother acting so emotional and just wrong it just didn’t count. This was not the Princess Tythra she was used to from her mother. This woman was practically a stranger, she wanted her mother’s approval, not approval from whoever this woman was.
With her mother acting so strangely, Imeeya hung on her every movement looking for some clue, some sign of what was going on. Her mother still looked troubled as she grabbed a bottle of wine, the nice stuff normally saved for guests of note. Her mother wouldn’t even look them in the eye. What could be so wrong that she couldn’t even tell them what had happened. Imeeya had half a mind to call the guards to chase the man down. Whatever he had done had to have really shaken her mother. Nothing could have prepared her for what her mother was going to say.
“You can’t be serious. There’s no way that man is of noble blood,” Imeeya objected almost immediately, brushing aside the offer of wine. She couldn’t believe her mother would even consider such a thing. “Our father died years ago,” she continued, starting to work her way up to a full outraged argument, but she paused for a moment at the look in her mother’s eye. This woman standing in front of her was more fragile than she was used to her mother being and she had no desire to upset her even further. She continued in a gentler tone. “I know he must have been convincing but it can’t be true. What’s more likely, that he’s somehow come back from the dead after all these years, or it’s someone who’s managed to figure out how to pull off a very convincing con?”
As far as Imeeya was concerned, if Tythra was going to go off on some wild flight of fancy, she had to be the one to keep a solid head on her shoulders for the sake of the family. She would figure out how to get her mother back to normal and in the meantime, she would hold everything together.
Essa didn’t know what was happening, that much was certain. She had never seen anyone visibly upset her mother before, and she was having trouble imagining just what this man had said or done to break through her otherwise impenetrable armor. She felt badly turning him away, but she could see no other solution. Of course she had no way of knowing they wouldn’t be able to find him again. Though when she did, she would make every effort nonetheless.
Yet she didn’t fail to notice how he seemed more shocked by her appearance than by any of the others who carried weapons. Somehow her sister’s threats didn’t seem to wound him half as much as her presence. Still, she tried to convince herself that she was imagining this. Perhaps it was simply an accumulation of things? A coincidence of timing?
After a moment’s consideration, he sighed and agreed with a final glance at her mother. “I’m sorry it has come to this,” she said softly to him. “But I thank you for your graciousness and hope you will offer my family your discretion in this matter.” Not that anyone would believe Tythra of Drakos was capable of a breakdown such as this even if he did tell others. And then he was gone.
For a long moment, they simply stood there, frozen as they watched the strange man leave.
Then her mother turned towards her, cupping her cheek and praising her. She flushed at the compliment, simple as it was. It was something she had wanted for so long and for once... she actually felt a little pride in herself. She had done well. It felt good to have her mother recognize that.
Tythra withdrew from her embrace, making her way over to the small table that held drinks they kept for entertaining company. When she began to speak, Essa instinctively stepped forward. Her mother might be calmer now, but she was still hurting - Essa could feel it. She had a thousand questions, but she said nothing, waiting anxiously for whatever would come. Anything to rattle her mother had to be momentous, life-changing even.
Her eyes studied her mother intensely even as she accepted the offered goblet. Her eyes widened as her mother explained. Could it be?
Before she could even begin to wrap her head around this information, her sister’s interjection had her jaw dropping. “Imeeya!” she gasped. Unlike most nobles, Essa had a deep respect and affection for commoners. Sometimes, she wondered if she might be happier living amongst them. She was grateful when her sister continued in a more gentle tone.
“His body was never found, you know that,” Essa said softly. “He was seen severely wounded, but there was no body. If he was dragged from the battlefield... he could have survived.” She wasn’t sure how to feel about all this. She had longed for her father - the man she supposedly resembled in both looks and heart. But what if he was disappointed in her? After all, he had never met her. Maybe no amount of resemblance would make up for so many years of distance.
“There have been a dozen or more imposters over the years, and none have ever come close to convincing Mama. Surely she would know better than anyone if he was who he claims to be.” In Essa’s mind, their mother’s reaction was all the more reason to believe this man, not less. But she needed to know more. She reached out and took her mother’s free hand, gently leading her to take a seat and seating herself beside Tythra.
“Would you tell us about him? We speak of him so rarely...” she began softly, lightly squeezing their mother’s hand. “What about him makes you believe him?”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Feb 2, 2021 23:36:26 GMT
Posted In A Homecoming on Feb 2, 2021 23:36:26 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Essa didn’t know what was happening, that much was certain. She had never seen anyone visibly upset her mother before, and she was having trouble imagining just what this man had said or done to break through her otherwise impenetrable armor. She felt badly turning him away, but she could see no other solution. Of course she had no way of knowing they wouldn’t be able to find him again. Though when she did, she would make every effort nonetheless.
Yet she didn’t fail to notice how he seemed more shocked by her appearance than by any of the others who carried weapons. Somehow her sister’s threats didn’t seem to wound him half as much as her presence. Still, she tried to convince herself that she was imagining this. Perhaps it was simply an accumulation of things? A coincidence of timing?
After a moment’s consideration, he sighed and agreed with a final glance at her mother. “I’m sorry it has come to this,” she said softly to him. “But I thank you for your graciousness and hope you will offer my family your discretion in this matter.” Not that anyone would believe Tythra of Drakos was capable of a breakdown such as this even if he did tell others. And then he was gone.
For a long moment, they simply stood there, frozen as they watched the strange man leave.
Then her mother turned towards her, cupping her cheek and praising her. She flushed at the compliment, simple as it was. It was something she had wanted for so long and for once... she actually felt a little pride in herself. She had done well. It felt good to have her mother recognize that.
Tythra withdrew from her embrace, making her way over to the small table that held drinks they kept for entertaining company. When she began to speak, Essa instinctively stepped forward. Her mother might be calmer now, but she was still hurting - Essa could feel it. She had a thousand questions, but she said nothing, waiting anxiously for whatever would come. Anything to rattle her mother had to be momentous, life-changing even.
Her eyes studied her mother intensely even as she accepted the offered goblet. Her eyes widened as her mother explained. Could it be?
Before she could even begin to wrap her head around this information, her sister’s interjection had her jaw dropping. “Imeeya!” she gasped. Unlike most nobles, Essa had a deep respect and affection for commoners. Sometimes, she wondered if she might be happier living amongst them. She was grateful when her sister continued in a more gentle tone.
“His body was never found, you know that,” Essa said softly. “He was seen severely wounded, but there was no body. If he was dragged from the battlefield... he could have survived.” She wasn’t sure how to feel about all this. She had longed for her father - the man she supposedly resembled in both looks and heart. But what if he was disappointed in her? After all, he had never met her. Maybe no amount of resemblance would make up for so many years of distance.
“There have been a dozen or more imposters over the years, and none have ever come close to convincing Mama. Surely she would know better than anyone if he was who he claims to be.” In Essa’s mind, their mother’s reaction was all the more reason to believe this man, not less. But she needed to know more. She reached out and took her mother’s free hand, gently leading her to take a seat and seating herself beside Tythra.
“Would you tell us about him? We speak of him so rarely...” she began softly, lightly squeezing their mother’s hand. “What about him makes you believe him?”
Essa didn’t know what was happening, that much was certain. She had never seen anyone visibly upset her mother before, and she was having trouble imagining just what this man had said or done to break through her otherwise impenetrable armor. She felt badly turning him away, but she could see no other solution. Of course she had no way of knowing they wouldn’t be able to find him again. Though when she did, she would make every effort nonetheless.
Yet she didn’t fail to notice how he seemed more shocked by her appearance than by any of the others who carried weapons. Somehow her sister’s threats didn’t seem to wound him half as much as her presence. Still, she tried to convince herself that she was imagining this. Perhaps it was simply an accumulation of things? A coincidence of timing?
After a moment’s consideration, he sighed and agreed with a final glance at her mother. “I’m sorry it has come to this,” she said softly to him. “But I thank you for your graciousness and hope you will offer my family your discretion in this matter.” Not that anyone would believe Tythra of Drakos was capable of a breakdown such as this even if he did tell others. And then he was gone.
For a long moment, they simply stood there, frozen as they watched the strange man leave.
Then her mother turned towards her, cupping her cheek and praising her. She flushed at the compliment, simple as it was. It was something she had wanted for so long and for once... she actually felt a little pride in herself. She had done well. It felt good to have her mother recognize that.
Tythra withdrew from her embrace, making her way over to the small table that held drinks they kept for entertaining company. When she began to speak, Essa instinctively stepped forward. Her mother might be calmer now, but she was still hurting - Essa could feel it. She had a thousand questions, but she said nothing, waiting anxiously for whatever would come. Anything to rattle her mother had to be momentous, life-changing even.
Her eyes studied her mother intensely even as she accepted the offered goblet. Her eyes widened as her mother explained. Could it be?
Before she could even begin to wrap her head around this information, her sister’s interjection had her jaw dropping. “Imeeya!” she gasped. Unlike most nobles, Essa had a deep respect and affection for commoners. Sometimes, she wondered if she might be happier living amongst them. She was grateful when her sister continued in a more gentle tone.
“His body was never found, you know that,” Essa said softly. “He was seen severely wounded, but there was no body. If he was dragged from the battlefield... he could have survived.” She wasn’t sure how to feel about all this. She had longed for her father - the man she supposedly resembled in both looks and heart. But what if he was disappointed in her? After all, he had never met her. Maybe no amount of resemblance would make up for so many years of distance.
“There have been a dozen or more imposters over the years, and none have ever come close to convincing Mama. Surely she would know better than anyone if he was who he claims to be.” In Essa’s mind, their mother’s reaction was all the more reason to believe this man, not less. But she needed to know more. She reached out and took her mother’s free hand, gently leading her to take a seat and seating herself beside Tythra.
“Would you tell us about him? We speak of him so rarely...” she began softly, lightly squeezing their mother’s hand. “What about him makes you believe him?”
They were both speaking with logic, and they both reacted predictably. Imeeya scoffed at whatever Tythra had to say, and Essa reacted with hope. And yet, while they acted predictably, Tythra was not able to guess that this would be the way they would behave. She had expected pain, sorrow to match her’s. She had expected anger directed at Thesus. She had expected that her words would send them spirling. Or maybe they’d be accusations thrown at her, that she kept them away from him all their life.
Tythra simply did not know what to think anymore. Clearly she was wrong about everything. Maybe it was Imeeya that was right, and that there was no possible chance that it was Thesus. And yet Essa spoke the truth. They had no body to mourn. He was sent without his coins to Hades.
As her daughters spoke, Tythra’s shaking hand lifted the mug to her lips. The wine that was normally so sweet tasted bitter on her tongue. Like the situation she was in, the wine was wrong. Or maybe it was Tythra that was wrong. Was she wrong? Was she like the old Snake and starting to give into delusion? Was she mad?
No. I’m not. She wasn’t mad. That man had his voice. He had his smell. He has his eyes. He walked the way Thesus walked. He talked the way Thesus talked. Tythra knew her mind was still sharp, still there. And she was strong and wouldn’t succumb to maddness unlike the Snake. Tythra was capable. Tythra was sane.
The worst of it all was that Tythra had no words to give her daughters. She had no way to ensure them that this was Thesus. Nor did she have the desire to talk about their father. He was a man… who had abandoned them and then have the audacity to come back. He wasn’t the man Tythra thought she knew. He was a monster who inflicted pain.
He made Tythra weak.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wanted them to understand, to not question for once. But how could they when she barly understood? How could they when all this seemed impossible? “You never met him Essa, and Imeeya you would not remember him. But I know that the man that was in this room was Thesus. It may have been sixteen years, but he is the father of my children. The man I slept next to countless nights. You do not simply forget that.” Tythra put the cup down and looked at her two daughters.
I don’t want you to go to him. She wanted to say. Was that right? They lived their lives deprived of him. But he didn’t… deserve to see how amazingly they had grown. He didn’t deserve to smile at them when he sees the women they became. He deserved nothing.
“I love you girls,” Tythra instead chose to say. She loved them, and yet why did Tythra feel… like she could lose them?
Like he could take them.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Feb 6, 2021 19:52:31 GMT
Posted In A Homecoming on Feb 6, 2021 19:52:31 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
They were both speaking with logic, and they both reacted predictably. Imeeya scoffed at whatever Tythra had to say, and Essa reacted with hope. And yet, while they acted predictably, Tythra was not able to guess that this would be the way they would behave. She had expected pain, sorrow to match her’s. She had expected anger directed at Thesus. She had expected that her words would send them spirling. Or maybe they’d be accusations thrown at her, that she kept them away from him all their life.
Tythra simply did not know what to think anymore. Clearly she was wrong about everything. Maybe it was Imeeya that was right, and that there was no possible chance that it was Thesus. And yet Essa spoke the truth. They had no body to mourn. He was sent without his coins to Hades.
As her daughters spoke, Tythra’s shaking hand lifted the mug to her lips. The wine that was normally so sweet tasted bitter on her tongue. Like the situation she was in, the wine was wrong. Or maybe it was Tythra that was wrong. Was she wrong? Was she like the old Snake and starting to give into delusion? Was she mad?
No. I’m not. She wasn’t mad. That man had his voice. He had his smell. He has his eyes. He walked the way Thesus walked. He talked the way Thesus talked. Tythra knew her mind was still sharp, still there. And she was strong and wouldn’t succumb to maddness unlike the Snake. Tythra was capable. Tythra was sane.
The worst of it all was that Tythra had no words to give her daughters. She had no way to ensure them that this was Thesus. Nor did she have the desire to talk about their father. He was a man… who had abandoned them and then have the audacity to come back. He wasn’t the man Tythra thought she knew. He was a monster who inflicted pain.
He made Tythra weak.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wanted them to understand, to not question for once. But how could they when she barly understood? How could they when all this seemed impossible? “You never met him Essa, and Imeeya you would not remember him. But I know that the man that was in this room was Thesus. It may have been sixteen years, but he is the father of my children. The man I slept next to countless nights. You do not simply forget that.” Tythra put the cup down and looked at her two daughters.
I don’t want you to go to him. She wanted to say. Was that right? They lived their lives deprived of him. But he didn’t… deserve to see how amazingly they had grown. He didn’t deserve to smile at them when he sees the women they became. He deserved nothing.
“I love you girls,” Tythra instead chose to say. She loved them, and yet why did Tythra feel… like she could lose them?
Like he could take them.
They were both speaking with logic, and they both reacted predictably. Imeeya scoffed at whatever Tythra had to say, and Essa reacted with hope. And yet, while they acted predictably, Tythra was not able to guess that this would be the way they would behave. She had expected pain, sorrow to match her’s. She had expected anger directed at Thesus. She had expected that her words would send them spirling. Or maybe they’d be accusations thrown at her, that she kept them away from him all their life.
Tythra simply did not know what to think anymore. Clearly she was wrong about everything. Maybe it was Imeeya that was right, and that there was no possible chance that it was Thesus. And yet Essa spoke the truth. They had no body to mourn. He was sent without his coins to Hades.
As her daughters spoke, Tythra’s shaking hand lifted the mug to her lips. The wine that was normally so sweet tasted bitter on her tongue. Like the situation she was in, the wine was wrong. Or maybe it was Tythra that was wrong. Was she wrong? Was she like the old Snake and starting to give into delusion? Was she mad?
No. I’m not. She wasn’t mad. That man had his voice. He had his smell. He has his eyes. He walked the way Thesus walked. He talked the way Thesus talked. Tythra knew her mind was still sharp, still there. And she was strong and wouldn’t succumb to maddness unlike the Snake. Tythra was capable. Tythra was sane.
The worst of it all was that Tythra had no words to give her daughters. She had no way to ensure them that this was Thesus. Nor did she have the desire to talk about their father. He was a man… who had abandoned them and then have the audacity to come back. He wasn’t the man Tythra thought she knew. He was a monster who inflicted pain.
He made Tythra weak.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wanted them to understand, to not question for once. But how could they when she barly understood? How could they when all this seemed impossible? “You never met him Essa, and Imeeya you would not remember him. But I know that the man that was in this room was Thesus. It may have been sixteen years, but he is the father of my children. The man I slept next to countless nights. You do not simply forget that.” Tythra put the cup down and looked at her two daughters.
I don’t want you to go to him. She wanted to say. Was that right? They lived their lives deprived of him. But he didn’t… deserve to see how amazingly they had grown. He didn’t deserve to smile at them when he sees the women they became. He deserved nothing.
“I love you girls,” Tythra instead chose to say. She loved them, and yet why did Tythra feel… like she could lose them?
Like he could take them.
Imeeya had always loved how compassionate her little sister was. It was a skill she had never quite managed to master and it always made people love her and befriend her. Those things had never come easily to Imeeya. At the same time, it made her naive. Essa would believe anything that her mother said when she was so clearly upset. In Essa’s eyes that would mean that it came from somewhere genuine.
Imeeya, on the other hand, knew better than to let emotions cloud her judgment of the situation. There was no possible way that this man could be her father, the fact that he had managed to upset her mother only convinced Imeeya even more that she was in the right. As Tythra spoke of the man, it was clear that whatever had happened, he had convinced her that he was Thesus. That was clear enough, her mother’s belief was genuine, it wasn’t just him holding something over her head. At the same time, her mother wasn’t acting like herself.
Imeeya was not going to engage with what was so clearly some foolish flight of fancy. Not when her mother had been so upset. “Clearly you are too emotional to talk about this right now. We can discuss things when you’ve calmed down.” It was an echo of the words that her mother had said to her all these years. Those words that she hated when they were directed towards her, and yet such things didn’t occur to her as she spoke them. She had learned the lesson from her mother too well and it had become second nature to her. Drakos didn’t show their emotions, not like this.
With that proclamation, Imeeya took the wine that had been offered to her earlier and left the room. She was not about to sit there and witness her mother falling apart. That was not who her mother was, and that man was going to pay for causing her mother such grief. No one got away with hurting the Drakos family if Imeeya had anything to say about it.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Feb 8, 2021 14:25:52 GMT
Posted In A Homecoming on Feb 8, 2021 14:25:52 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Imeeya had always loved how compassionate her little sister was. It was a skill she had never quite managed to master and it always made people love her and befriend her. Those things had never come easily to Imeeya. At the same time, it made her naive. Essa would believe anything that her mother said when she was so clearly upset. In Essa’s eyes that would mean that it came from somewhere genuine.
Imeeya, on the other hand, knew better than to let emotions cloud her judgment of the situation. There was no possible way that this man could be her father, the fact that he had managed to upset her mother only convinced Imeeya even more that she was in the right. As Tythra spoke of the man, it was clear that whatever had happened, he had convinced her that he was Thesus. That was clear enough, her mother’s belief was genuine, it wasn’t just him holding something over her head. At the same time, her mother wasn’t acting like herself.
Imeeya was not going to engage with what was so clearly some foolish flight of fancy. Not when her mother had been so upset. “Clearly you are too emotional to talk about this right now. We can discuss things when you’ve calmed down.” It was an echo of the words that her mother had said to her all these years. Those words that she hated when they were directed towards her, and yet such things didn’t occur to her as she spoke them. She had learned the lesson from her mother too well and it had become second nature to her. Drakos didn’t show their emotions, not like this.
With that proclamation, Imeeya took the wine that had been offered to her earlier and left the room. She was not about to sit there and witness her mother falling apart. That was not who her mother was, and that man was going to pay for causing her mother such grief. No one got away with hurting the Drakos family if Imeeya had anything to say about it.
Imeeya had always loved how compassionate her little sister was. It was a skill she had never quite managed to master and it always made people love her and befriend her. Those things had never come easily to Imeeya. At the same time, it made her naive. Essa would believe anything that her mother said when she was so clearly upset. In Essa’s eyes that would mean that it came from somewhere genuine.
Imeeya, on the other hand, knew better than to let emotions cloud her judgment of the situation. There was no possible way that this man could be her father, the fact that he had managed to upset her mother only convinced Imeeya even more that she was in the right. As Tythra spoke of the man, it was clear that whatever had happened, he had convinced her that he was Thesus. That was clear enough, her mother’s belief was genuine, it wasn’t just him holding something over her head. At the same time, her mother wasn’t acting like herself.
Imeeya was not going to engage with what was so clearly some foolish flight of fancy. Not when her mother had been so upset. “Clearly you are too emotional to talk about this right now. We can discuss things when you’ve calmed down.” It was an echo of the words that her mother had said to her all these years. Those words that she hated when they were directed towards her, and yet such things didn’t occur to her as she spoke them. She had learned the lesson from her mother too well and it had become second nature to her. Drakos didn’t show their emotions, not like this.
With that proclamation, Imeeya took the wine that had been offered to her earlier and left the room. She was not about to sit there and witness her mother falling apart. That was not who her mother was, and that man was going to pay for causing her mother such grief. No one got away with hurting the Drakos family if Imeeya had anything to say about it.
It was odd that Essa was the calm one among the three of them. Her mother had always been unshakable. Imeeya was quick to temper, but she usually at least tried to be logical. Instead, her mother was shaking with emotions. Her sister was refusing to even consider the reality that was before her, rejecting the facts outright.
And Essa was the rational one, holding everything together.
Maybe it was easier because she had never known him. All he had ever been to her was a story. A part of her that she never fully understood. That never fit in with the rest of her family. That always seemed to keep her apart from everyone else. She had imagined him, but she didn’t have a single memory. Nothing real to hold on to. Imeeya... she had at least something hazy to remember. A memory of his loss if nothing else. Essa didn’t even have that. All she had ever known was life without him.
And her mother... they had shared half a lifetime together. She didn’t know if there was ever love between them, but they had been married for years. He had given her children. How could that not bind two people together forever at least as much as marriage vows? Even someone as distant as her mother. Had Tythra always been that way? Or was it something that came only after her father’s supposed death? It was something Essa had never considered before. After all, his death and her birth had nearly coincided. All she had ever known was the aftermath.
She watched her mother carefully, looking for any sort of answer, anything solid to hold on to. She believed her, of course she did. But she wanted Imeeya to believe her to. She wanted them to hold to each other, to get through this upheaval as a family. The answers that followed fell a bit short of that. Her mother didn’t have to explain. She didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to stir up those memories. That made sense at least. What stunned her most was what followed.
Her mouth genuinely gaped as her sister spoke. Speaking to their mother like an errant child. “Imeeya!” she gasped. But the older Drakos daughter was already walking away, wine in hand. If she was in this sort of mood... there was no sense in chasing after her. Essa could check on her later. Right now, her focus was on their mother.
“I’m so sorry, Mama. I know everyone is upset, but that’s no reason to be so disrespectful.” Her voice was soft and incredulous, like she couldn’t believe what had just happened. She turned towards her mother instead, wrapping her arms gently around her shoulders. “I love you too, Mama,” she said softly. “We both do. Promise. She’ll come around, just give her a little time.”
She had a million questions, things she wanted to know. But she couldn’t ask. Not now. She wouldn’t put her mother through that. “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now...” she whispered softly, still holding on to her mother as she rested her head on her shoulder. “I mean... everyone thought he was dead... How can he be back here at all? And after so long...” There was an ache in her voice. She couldn’t summon those feelings herself, having never been loved like that. Having never lost anyone she knew. But she had read about it, enough to guess.
“What can I do, Mama? Anything at all.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Feb 18, 2021 7:27:13 GMT
Posted In A Homecoming on Feb 18, 2021 7:27:13 GMT
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
It was odd that Essa was the calm one among the three of them. Her mother had always been unshakable. Imeeya was quick to temper, but she usually at least tried to be logical. Instead, her mother was shaking with emotions. Her sister was refusing to even consider the reality that was before her, rejecting the facts outright.
And Essa was the rational one, holding everything together.
Maybe it was easier because she had never known him. All he had ever been to her was a story. A part of her that she never fully understood. That never fit in with the rest of her family. That always seemed to keep her apart from everyone else. She had imagined him, but she didn’t have a single memory. Nothing real to hold on to. Imeeya... she had at least something hazy to remember. A memory of his loss if nothing else. Essa didn’t even have that. All she had ever known was life without him.
And her mother... they had shared half a lifetime together. She didn’t know if there was ever love between them, but they had been married for years. He had given her children. How could that not bind two people together forever at least as much as marriage vows? Even someone as distant as her mother. Had Tythra always been that way? Or was it something that came only after her father’s supposed death? It was something Essa had never considered before. After all, his death and her birth had nearly coincided. All she had ever known was the aftermath.
She watched her mother carefully, looking for any sort of answer, anything solid to hold on to. She believed her, of course she did. But she wanted Imeeya to believe her to. She wanted them to hold to each other, to get through this upheaval as a family. The answers that followed fell a bit short of that. Her mother didn’t have to explain. She didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to stir up those memories. That made sense at least. What stunned her most was what followed.
Her mouth genuinely gaped as her sister spoke. Speaking to their mother like an errant child. “Imeeya!” she gasped. But the older Drakos daughter was already walking away, wine in hand. If she was in this sort of mood... there was no sense in chasing after her. Essa could check on her later. Right now, her focus was on their mother.
“I’m so sorry, Mama. I know everyone is upset, but that’s no reason to be so disrespectful.” Her voice was soft and incredulous, like she couldn’t believe what had just happened. She turned towards her mother instead, wrapping her arms gently around her shoulders. “I love you too, Mama,” she said softly. “We both do. Promise. She’ll come around, just give her a little time.”
She had a million questions, things she wanted to know. But she couldn’t ask. Not now. She wouldn’t put her mother through that. “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now...” she whispered softly, still holding on to her mother as she rested her head on her shoulder. “I mean... everyone thought he was dead... How can he be back here at all? And after so long...” There was an ache in her voice. She couldn’t summon those feelings herself, having never been loved like that. Having never lost anyone she knew. But she had read about it, enough to guess.
“What can I do, Mama? Anything at all.”
It was odd that Essa was the calm one among the three of them. Her mother had always been unshakable. Imeeya was quick to temper, but she usually at least tried to be logical. Instead, her mother was shaking with emotions. Her sister was refusing to even consider the reality that was before her, rejecting the facts outright.
And Essa was the rational one, holding everything together.
Maybe it was easier because she had never known him. All he had ever been to her was a story. A part of her that she never fully understood. That never fit in with the rest of her family. That always seemed to keep her apart from everyone else. She had imagined him, but she didn’t have a single memory. Nothing real to hold on to. Imeeya... she had at least something hazy to remember. A memory of his loss if nothing else. Essa didn’t even have that. All she had ever known was life without him.
And her mother... they had shared half a lifetime together. She didn’t know if there was ever love between them, but they had been married for years. He had given her children. How could that not bind two people together forever at least as much as marriage vows? Even someone as distant as her mother. Had Tythra always been that way? Or was it something that came only after her father’s supposed death? It was something Essa had never considered before. After all, his death and her birth had nearly coincided. All she had ever known was the aftermath.
She watched her mother carefully, looking for any sort of answer, anything solid to hold on to. She believed her, of course she did. But she wanted Imeeya to believe her to. She wanted them to hold to each other, to get through this upheaval as a family. The answers that followed fell a bit short of that. Her mother didn’t have to explain. She didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to stir up those memories. That made sense at least. What stunned her most was what followed.
Her mouth genuinely gaped as her sister spoke. Speaking to their mother like an errant child. “Imeeya!” she gasped. But the older Drakos daughter was already walking away, wine in hand. If she was in this sort of mood... there was no sense in chasing after her. Essa could check on her later. Right now, her focus was on their mother.
“I’m so sorry, Mama. I know everyone is upset, but that’s no reason to be so disrespectful.” Her voice was soft and incredulous, like she couldn’t believe what had just happened. She turned towards her mother instead, wrapping her arms gently around her shoulders. “I love you too, Mama,” she said softly. “We both do. Promise. She’ll come around, just give her a little time.”
She had a million questions, things she wanted to know. But she couldn’t ask. Not now. She wouldn’t put her mother through that. “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now...” she whispered softly, still holding on to her mother as she rested her head on her shoulder. “I mean... everyone thought he was dead... How can he be back here at all? And after so long...” There was an ache in her voice. She couldn’t summon those feelings herself, having never been loved like that. Having never lost anyone she knew. But she had read about it, enough to guess.
