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Some days it was difficult to think inside of the palatial estate Daniil had called home her entire mortal life. She was well aware that there were more than a handful of people in Athenia that would gladly commit the great sin of murder just for a taste of the opulence she had access to on a daily basis. She was well aware that should she make her disillusions public, many would call her selfish or ignorant of the privilege that she had enjoyed. But that did not change the simple fact that she found the confines of the lifestyle she had been born into suffocating. With her high birth came the trappings of nobility- nay, royalty. Marikas was an ancient name, as those who held it were wont to remind her on a near-daily basis. There was a certain way one with such a name should act. A manner in which they must carry themselves at all times. A manner in which they must speak, a manner in which they must dress, and a manner in which they must conduct the affairs of their lives. How unfortunate, then, that she did not ascribe to such ideals.
Late in the night, she had found the walls of her chambers to be too much. They trapped her in, preventing her from escaping the expectations of those who had placed them there. Accordingly, she had slipped out of them in her riding garments. A chiton that went down to her knees in the masculine fashion, and her sword at her side. She clutched the owl pendant around her neck for comfort as she mounted her favorite mare, Eleutheria. She was not running away, exactly. She was quite clear about where she as going; out in the countryside. If anyone wished to find her, they could simply ride after her. And if anyone wished to stop her, they were welcome to make the attempt, though she doubted their success.
It was out there, in the cool air of the late night, galloping through the Athenian countryside on the back of Eleutheria that she knew peace. Her mind was at ease, focused only on directing her horse through the roads and fields, the wind whipping her short hair back and rushing against her face. There were no expectations here. She had no name here. She had no future planned for her here. Here there was only the horse and her. Nothing and no one else. Out here she was free. As with every late night ride, she had half a mind to simply keep going, and never come back. But she knew she could not. Despite it all, she still held loyalty to her family, as pig-headed and stubborn as they all were.
Accordingly, only a few short hours after the sun had risen, Daniil and Eleutheria came trotting back to the estate, covered in the dust that came from hard riding. However, she was still not ready to return to her chambers. Instead of allowing the grooms to tend to her mare, she did it herself. Ensuring the saddle was properly stored, and brushing the horse down. So absorbed in her work, she took no notice of the world around her, nor who might be around her.
This character is currently a work in progress.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Some days it was difficult to think inside of the palatial estate Daniil had called home her entire mortal life. She was well aware that there were more than a handful of people in Athenia that would gladly commit the great sin of murder just for a taste of the opulence she had access to on a daily basis. She was well aware that should she make her disillusions public, many would call her selfish or ignorant of the privilege that she had enjoyed. But that did not change the simple fact that she found the confines of the lifestyle she had been born into suffocating. With her high birth came the trappings of nobility- nay, royalty. Marikas was an ancient name, as those who held it were wont to remind her on a near-daily basis. There was a certain way one with such a name should act. A manner in which they must carry themselves at all times. A manner in which they must speak, a manner in which they must dress, and a manner in which they must conduct the affairs of their lives. How unfortunate, then, that she did not ascribe to such ideals.
Late in the night, she had found the walls of her chambers to be too much. They trapped her in, preventing her from escaping the expectations of those who had placed them there. Accordingly, she had slipped out of them in her riding garments. A chiton that went down to her knees in the masculine fashion, and her sword at her side. She clutched the owl pendant around her neck for comfort as she mounted her favorite mare, Eleutheria. She was not running away, exactly. She was quite clear about where she as going; out in the countryside. If anyone wished to find her, they could simply ride after her. And if anyone wished to stop her, they were welcome to make the attempt, though she doubted their success.
It was out there, in the cool air of the late night, galloping through the Athenian countryside on the back of Eleutheria that she knew peace. Her mind was at ease, focused only on directing her horse through the roads and fields, the wind whipping her short hair back and rushing against her face. There were no expectations here. She had no name here. She had no future planned for her here. Here there was only the horse and her. Nothing and no one else. Out here she was free. As with every late night ride, she had half a mind to simply keep going, and never come back. But she knew she could not. Despite it all, she still held loyalty to her family, as pig-headed and stubborn as they all were.
Accordingly, only a few short hours after the sun had risen, Daniil and Eleutheria came trotting back to the estate, covered in the dust that came from hard riding. However, she was still not ready to return to her chambers. Instead of allowing the grooms to tend to her mare, she did it herself. Ensuring the saddle was properly stored, and brushing the horse down. So absorbed in her work, she took no notice of the world around her, nor who might be around her.
Some days it was difficult to think inside of the palatial estate Daniil had called home her entire mortal life. She was well aware that there were more than a handful of people in Athenia that would gladly commit the great sin of murder just for a taste of the opulence she had access to on a daily basis. She was well aware that should she make her disillusions public, many would call her selfish or ignorant of the privilege that she had enjoyed. But that did not change the simple fact that she found the confines of the lifestyle she had been born into suffocating. With her high birth came the trappings of nobility- nay, royalty. Marikas was an ancient name, as those who held it were wont to remind her on a near-daily basis. There was a certain way one with such a name should act. A manner in which they must carry themselves at all times. A manner in which they must speak, a manner in which they must dress, and a manner in which they must conduct the affairs of their lives. How unfortunate, then, that she did not ascribe to such ideals.
Late in the night, she had found the walls of her chambers to be too much. They trapped her in, preventing her from escaping the expectations of those who had placed them there. Accordingly, she had slipped out of them in her riding garments. A chiton that went down to her knees in the masculine fashion, and her sword at her side. She clutched the owl pendant around her neck for comfort as she mounted her favorite mare, Eleutheria. She was not running away, exactly. She was quite clear about where she as going; out in the countryside. If anyone wished to find her, they could simply ride after her. And if anyone wished to stop her, they were welcome to make the attempt, though she doubted their success.
It was out there, in the cool air of the late night, galloping through the Athenian countryside on the back of Eleutheria that she knew peace. Her mind was at ease, focused only on directing her horse through the roads and fields, the wind whipping her short hair back and rushing against her face. There were no expectations here. She had no name here. She had no future planned for her here. Here there was only the horse and her. Nothing and no one else. Out here she was free. As with every late night ride, she had half a mind to simply keep going, and never come back. But she knew she could not. Despite it all, she still held loyalty to her family, as pig-headed and stubborn as they all were.
Accordingly, only a few short hours after the sun had risen, Daniil and Eleutheria came trotting back to the estate, covered in the dust that came from hard riding. However, she was still not ready to return to her chambers. Instead of allowing the grooms to tend to her mare, she did it herself. Ensuring the saddle was properly stored, and brushing the horse down. So absorbed in her work, she took no notice of the world around her, nor who might be around her.
Omce upon a time there was a man that simply sought to be better than his peers, better than the world would allow him, better than his own brother. But lately that man had come to the understanding that performing the impossible was not quite....possible. That man would need the reach of gods, the power of gods, and the knowledge of gods in order for the impossible to become....possible. So in other words, unless the gods deigned it, Stelios knew he would never surpass his elder brother in a way he would be happy with. Soghing, he looked down from his horse over the wide fields of Athenia and then ushered the horse forward. For now, Stelios would rely on the man that brought himself up to his current station. He would rely on the advice of Panos of Marikas.
Knowing of the old man's tendencies, the way he kept a schedule and stuck to it, the way he never took an exception unless it was someone of major importance, Stelios would have to impress him. So, not having a scheduled appointment meant he would have to arrive early and perhaps be there for the day or even two. So, Stelios had packed a small camp alongside his normal traveling necessities. And when he got closer to the Marikas lands, he began to notice the signs and tales of their soldiers. Each soldier had his own way of movement, but they all wore the same colors so as to show who they belonged to. It was rather easy for Stelios to know this since he himself was a commander within the Athenian army.
Eventually, he came to the main household of the Markias and discovered he wss not the only early riser. No, it seemed there was someone else placing their horse within the stalls. Watching the person from the distance, one wouldn't be able to tell it was a female till her hair moved with the wind. He knew who this was now, it was the young granddaughter of the Marikas, Daniil. Or as she liked to be referred to, Dani. There was quite a few stories of the lady hanging around the Marikas lands. One being that she has been cursed by aphrodite to be a female instead of a male, another stating that she was just like her grandfather and had high expectations for the people around her. But, no. Stelios knew some of the truth. He had watched her the last month while at Colchis, and discovered that she was indeed a woman that yearned for acknowledgment. Acknowledgment from her grandfather, acknowledgment from her family, and acknowledgment from men.she was after all, a woman that desired womenly stuff at times.
Taking the initiative, Stelios moved his horse into the stables and then spoke to her. "Greetings to the Lady Dani of Marikas. I see you are in fine health today." Stelios sniled as he dismounted and removed his helmet in order to reveal his face to her.
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Omce upon a time there was a man that simply sought to be better than his peers, better than the world would allow him, better than his own brother. But lately that man had come to the understanding that performing the impossible was not quite....possible. That man would need the reach of gods, the power of gods, and the knowledge of gods in order for the impossible to become....possible. So in other words, unless the gods deigned it, Stelios knew he would never surpass his elder brother in a way he would be happy with. Soghing, he looked down from his horse over the wide fields of Athenia and then ushered the horse forward. For now, Stelios would rely on the man that brought himself up to his current station. He would rely on the advice of Panos of Marikas.
Knowing of the old man's tendencies, the way he kept a schedule and stuck to it, the way he never took an exception unless it was someone of major importance, Stelios would have to impress him. So, not having a scheduled appointment meant he would have to arrive early and perhaps be there for the day or even two. So, Stelios had packed a small camp alongside his normal traveling necessities. And when he got closer to the Marikas lands, he began to notice the signs and tales of their soldiers. Each soldier had his own way of movement, but they all wore the same colors so as to show who they belonged to. It was rather easy for Stelios to know this since he himself was a commander within the Athenian army.
Eventually, he came to the main household of the Markias and discovered he wss not the only early riser. No, it seemed there was someone else placing their horse within the stalls. Watching the person from the distance, one wouldn't be able to tell it was a female till her hair moved with the wind. He knew who this was now, it was the young granddaughter of the Marikas, Daniil. Or as she liked to be referred to, Dani. There was quite a few stories of the lady hanging around the Marikas lands. One being that she has been cursed by aphrodite to be a female instead of a male, another stating that she was just like her grandfather and had high expectations for the people around her. But, no. Stelios knew some of the truth. He had watched her the last month while at Colchis, and discovered that she was indeed a woman that yearned for acknowledgment. Acknowledgment from her grandfather, acknowledgment from her family, and acknowledgment from men.she was after all, a woman that desired womenly stuff at times.
Taking the initiative, Stelios moved his horse into the stables and then spoke to her. "Greetings to the Lady Dani of Marikas. I see you are in fine health today." Stelios sniled as he dismounted and removed his helmet in order to reveal his face to her.
Omce upon a time there was a man that simply sought to be better than his peers, better than the world would allow him, better than his own brother. But lately that man had come to the understanding that performing the impossible was not quite....possible. That man would need the reach of gods, the power of gods, and the knowledge of gods in order for the impossible to become....possible. So in other words, unless the gods deigned it, Stelios knew he would never surpass his elder brother in a way he would be happy with. Soghing, he looked down from his horse over the wide fields of Athenia and then ushered the horse forward. For now, Stelios would rely on the man that brought himself up to his current station. He would rely on the advice of Panos of Marikas.
Knowing of the old man's tendencies, the way he kept a schedule and stuck to it, the way he never took an exception unless it was someone of major importance, Stelios would have to impress him. So, not having a scheduled appointment meant he would have to arrive early and perhaps be there for the day or even two. So, Stelios had packed a small camp alongside his normal traveling necessities. And when he got closer to the Marikas lands, he began to notice the signs and tales of their soldiers. Each soldier had his own way of movement, but they all wore the same colors so as to show who they belonged to. It was rather easy for Stelios to know this since he himself was a commander within the Athenian army.
Eventually, he came to the main household of the Markias and discovered he wss not the only early riser. No, it seemed there was someone else placing their horse within the stalls. Watching the person from the distance, one wouldn't be able to tell it was a female till her hair moved with the wind. He knew who this was now, it was the young granddaughter of the Marikas, Daniil. Or as she liked to be referred to, Dani. There was quite a few stories of the lady hanging around the Marikas lands. One being that she has been cursed by aphrodite to be a female instead of a male, another stating that she was just like her grandfather and had high expectations for the people around her. But, no. Stelios knew some of the truth. He had watched her the last month while at Colchis, and discovered that she was indeed a woman that yearned for acknowledgment. Acknowledgment from her grandfather, acknowledgment from her family, and acknowledgment from men.she was after all, a woman that desired womenly stuff at times.
Taking the initiative, Stelios moved his horse into the stables and then spoke to her. "Greetings to the Lady Dani of Marikas. I see you are in fine health today." Stelios sniled as he dismounted and removed his helmet in order to reveal his face to her.
There was something calming about caring for the wellbeing of a horse. She had raised Eleutheria since the mare had been a foal, allowing none to grace the horse's saddle but her. Eleutheria was one of the few things in this world that was solely hers, and no one else's. Only Daniil could tame the steed, only Daniil could soothe the steed, and only Daniil could have her love. There was a bond between them that went beyond what Daniil shared with almost any other being on this earth. As she ran the brush down the horse's side, she leaned her head against it, closing her eyes.
So much had happened in such a short period. Ever since the incident at the feast in Colchis after the festival, her mind had been tormented with memories and contemplation of her own existence, and the seeming futility of it all. She had been thrust into the limelight and exposed for the fraud she was, for so many to witness. She had been turned into a frightened child, shaking and helpless. She had been utterly incapable of defending herself, relying upon others to save her. Her hand tightened into a fist, and pounded into the ground, her breath coming to her fast and hard. Why? Why was she so weak? So godsdamned pathetic? Why was she such a hypocrite? Ranting and railing against the patriarchy she had dedicated her life to speaking against, and reduced to a sniveling infant devoid of defenses before it? It was not fair. It was unjust. Could she have nothing? Could nothing in her life be hers? Must the gods, cruel as they were, deprive her of even the peace of mind her own convictions gave her?
That was when she heard Stelios. Her eyes opened, and she turned her head to observe him. Stelios of the House Antonis. A man she had known near her entire life, close to her grandfather. What was he doing here? Here to meet her grandfather, surely. She rather doubted he had come just to meet with her.
"The Lord Stelios himself." She resumed brushing her horse, her lips pursed as she tried to get herself back under control. She did not wish to look weak in front of anybody, let alone a man that held such significance to her family. "I am as fine as any woman constantly facing the pressure and oppression the system in which we live in forces upon her can be." Her movements with the brush were faster and harder than they were before, making Eleutheria protest, shifting in her stall. Daniil's hands stroked at the horse as she shushed her gently, setting the brush down, calming the creature. She had not meant to allow her own anger to affect anyone around her, let alone her prized horse. She swallowed dryly, her voice somewhat shaky with barely contained emotion.
"My grandfather is inside the estate, likely in the gardens as always. He has a penchant for them, does he not?" A moment of hesitation followed. "That is why you came, is it not, Stelios?"
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Jul 31, 2021 10:38:43 GMT
Posted In Checking Up on Jul 31, 2021 10:38:43 GMT
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There was something calming about caring for the wellbeing of a horse. She had raised Eleutheria since the mare had been a foal, allowing none to grace the horse's saddle but her. Eleutheria was one of the few things in this world that was solely hers, and no one else's. Only Daniil could tame the steed, only Daniil could soothe the steed, and only Daniil could have her love. There was a bond between them that went beyond what Daniil shared with almost any other being on this earth. As she ran the brush down the horse's side, she leaned her head against it, closing her eyes.
So much had happened in such a short period. Ever since the incident at the feast in Colchis after the festival, her mind had been tormented with memories and contemplation of her own existence, and the seeming futility of it all. She had been thrust into the limelight and exposed for the fraud she was, for so many to witness. She had been turned into a frightened child, shaking and helpless. She had been utterly incapable of defending herself, relying upon others to save her. Her hand tightened into a fist, and pounded into the ground, her breath coming to her fast and hard. Why? Why was she so weak? So godsdamned pathetic? Why was she such a hypocrite? Ranting and railing against the patriarchy she had dedicated her life to speaking against, and reduced to a sniveling infant devoid of defenses before it? It was not fair. It was unjust. Could she have nothing? Could nothing in her life be hers? Must the gods, cruel as they were, deprive her of even the peace of mind her own convictions gave her?
That was when she heard Stelios. Her eyes opened, and she turned her head to observe him. Stelios of the House Antonis. A man she had known near her entire life, close to her grandfather. What was he doing here? Here to meet her grandfather, surely. She rather doubted he had come just to meet with her.
"The Lord Stelios himself." She resumed brushing her horse, her lips pursed as she tried to get herself back under control. She did not wish to look weak in front of anybody, let alone a man that held such significance to her family. "I am as fine as any woman constantly facing the pressure and oppression the system in which we live in forces upon her can be." Her movements with the brush were faster and harder than they were before, making Eleutheria protest, shifting in her stall. Daniil's hands stroked at the horse as she shushed her gently, setting the brush down, calming the creature. She had not meant to allow her own anger to affect anyone around her, let alone her prized horse. She swallowed dryly, her voice somewhat shaky with barely contained emotion.
"My grandfather is inside the estate, likely in the gardens as always. He has a penchant for them, does he not?" A moment of hesitation followed. "That is why you came, is it not, Stelios?"
There was something calming about caring for the wellbeing of a horse. She had raised Eleutheria since the mare had been a foal, allowing none to grace the horse's saddle but her. Eleutheria was one of the few things in this world that was solely hers, and no one else's. Only Daniil could tame the steed, only Daniil could soothe the steed, and only Daniil could have her love. There was a bond between them that went beyond what Daniil shared with almost any other being on this earth. As she ran the brush down the horse's side, she leaned her head against it, closing her eyes.
So much had happened in such a short period. Ever since the incident at the feast in Colchis after the festival, her mind had been tormented with memories and contemplation of her own existence, and the seeming futility of it all. She had been thrust into the limelight and exposed for the fraud she was, for so many to witness. She had been turned into a frightened child, shaking and helpless. She had been utterly incapable of defending herself, relying upon others to save her. Her hand tightened into a fist, and pounded into the ground, her breath coming to her fast and hard. Why? Why was she so weak? So godsdamned pathetic? Why was she such a hypocrite? Ranting and railing against the patriarchy she had dedicated her life to speaking against, and reduced to a sniveling infant devoid of defenses before it? It was not fair. It was unjust. Could she have nothing? Could nothing in her life be hers? Must the gods, cruel as they were, deprive her of even the peace of mind her own convictions gave her?
That was when she heard Stelios. Her eyes opened, and she turned her head to observe him. Stelios of the House Antonis. A man she had known near her entire life, close to her grandfather. What was he doing here? Here to meet her grandfather, surely. She rather doubted he had come just to meet with her.
"The Lord Stelios himself." She resumed brushing her horse, her lips pursed as she tried to get herself back under control. She did not wish to look weak in front of anybody, let alone a man that held such significance to her family. "I am as fine as any woman constantly facing the pressure and oppression the system in which we live in forces upon her can be." Her movements with the brush were faster and harder than they were before, making Eleutheria protest, shifting in her stall. Daniil's hands stroked at the horse as she shushed her gently, setting the brush down, calming the creature. She had not meant to allow her own anger to affect anyone around her, let alone her prized horse. She swallowed dryly, her voice somewhat shaky with barely contained emotion.
"My grandfather is inside the estate, likely in the gardens as always. He has a penchant for them, does he not?" A moment of hesitation followed. "That is why you came, is it not, Stelios?"
