![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
A Hard-Learned Lesson
Who: Apollo & Open!
What: He thought arenas were a Roman thing.
When: Current - which means mid week two?
Where: Preparing to enter and thenit's onarena time.
Warnings: A bratty god who is used to being immortal (i.e. untouchable)?
The mere audacity of mortals to not only find a way to strip his godhood from him but to also parade him in front of these...judges?...was more than he could bear. Apollo scowled, livid. He had been ordered - and persuaded none too kindly - to obey orders. Said orders had led him to a table which was ladened with weapons.
"What would you do if I used these blades against you?" his eyes, which reflected the colors of the rainbow, were fixed upon his judges, his lips pursed into a childish pout, "Then you would feel this humiliation..."
As if mortals in this particular world didn't feel the same humiliation - in varying degrees - every day. Apollo couldn't be bothered to learn about empathy, especially when he felt a sharp prod to his back.
"I don't forget." he chose a bow and arrows, "God of the hunt, hm?"
He turned away from the many staring eyes and placed a slender hand on his hip. What - or who - was he going to hunt? It didn't matter in particular. Either way, they would be visiting Hades soon.
Another pet for his dismal garden.
"Fight...survive...win." he repeated, sounding bored, "Make it worth my while. Hunting is not a sport I often..." if ever, "indulge."
Turning gracefully - his poise and flexibility hadn't completely diminished in his mortal form - Apollo aimed an arrow at the nearest judge, smiling wickedly. Was it any surprise that he was then half-shoved and half-carried into the arena?
Probably not, though he was none too happy about the current circumstances.
"How pointless." his hair fanned out around him like licking flames and, despite his disdain for his situation, he had to admit it was nice to no longer be bound by gravity.
What: He thought arenas were a Roman thing.
When: Current - which means mid week two?
Where: Preparing to enter and then
Warnings: A bratty god who is used to being immortal (i.e. untouchable)?
The mere audacity of mortals to not only find a way to strip his godhood from him but to also parade him in front of these...judges?...was more than he could bear. Apollo scowled, livid. He had been ordered - and persuaded none too kindly - to obey orders. Said orders had led him to a table which was ladened with weapons.
"What would you do if I used these blades against you?" his eyes, which reflected the colors of the rainbow, were fixed upon his judges, his lips pursed into a childish pout, "Then you would feel this humiliation..."
As if mortals in this particular world didn't feel the same humiliation - in varying degrees - every day. Apollo couldn't be bothered to learn about empathy, especially when he felt a sharp prod to his back.
"I don't forget." he chose a bow and arrows, "God of the hunt, hm?"
He turned away from the many staring eyes and placed a slender hand on his hip. What - or who - was he going to hunt? It didn't matter in particular. Either way, they would be visiting Hades soon.
Another pet for his dismal garden.
"Fight...survive...win." he repeated, sounding bored, "Make it worth my while. Hunting is not a sport I often..." if ever, "indulge."
Turning gracefully - his poise and flexibility hadn't completely diminished in his mortal form - Apollo aimed an arrow at the nearest judge, smiling wickedly. Was it any surprise that he was then half-shoved and half-carried into the arena?
Probably not, though he was none too happy about the current circumstances.
"How pointless." his hair fanned out around him like licking flames and, despite his disdain for his situation, he had to admit it was nice to no longer be bound by gravity.