Expired_Cheese



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    Telemachus finds the strength to face the suitors as a mysterious figure slaughters them from the shadows.
    --

    “Left the weapons unlocked. Stupid,” a different suitor taunts. He kicks Telemachus’ dagger far from his reach and Telemachus watches it skitter from his view in despair. “They’re ours for the taking.” he kneels down to Telemachus’ eye level. “Just like your mother.”

    Telemachus snarls and lunges for him but there are hands on his shoulders, holding him back and hoisting him up. “Don’t you dare–” A punch to his gut stops him. He heaves, body unable to hunch in on himself due to the suitors forcing him upright.

    “Come, brothers,” he hears a voice say. “Take a weapon, be sure to arm yourselves. There is still a chance we can win against this madman.” The man walks to Telemachus and gestures to the two suitors. They let him go but before Telemachus can stumble away, the back of his neck is grabbed in an unyielding grip. “If we kill his runt.”

    “No!”

    --

     

    Or, with no animatics to cry over I am left to write my own scenes on how it played out.

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    09 Sep 2025

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    Aphrodite had foreseen Paris' triumph – her triumph, in truth. The moment his eyes would fall upon Helen of Sparta, he would understand: this was the reward for his devotion, this was the woman the gods themselves had deemed worthy of a prince so favoured.

    She had not foreseen his rejection.

    Had not expected him to turn away from the prize she had laid before him, to spurn the very woman he had once coveted with all his heart.

    Nor had she anticipated that his desire would stray – not to another queen, most certainly not to Helen’s own cousin.

     

    Penelope of Sparta.

     

    (Or, after coming across a portrait of Penelope during his time in Sparta, Paris of Troy switches his kidnapping victim from Helen to Penelope. This proves far more detrimental than anyone could have imagined - a spark burning so bright that even the Gods on Olympus are caught in its flames.)

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    07 Sep 2025

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    "Odysseus," She says, and he freezes.

    A wave rises and falls. They stay silent, unmoving.

    "Won't you look?" The words break out of her, cracked and desperate.

    He inhales and exhales, tears in the sound of it. "I don't want to look if you're... if you're not really here."

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    07 Sep 2025

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    Poseidon visits and Odysseus doesn’t even want to fight him, he’s too worn out from his torture spent with Calypso.

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    07 Sep 2025

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    “What are you carving?” a few of the children ask, the younger ones hiding behind the backs of their older, braver siblings.
    “I don’t know yet,” the king replies. “But I think it’s important.”

     

    Or: In which Odysseus amasses a small army of Ithacan children, a very large army of wooden soldiers, and the support system to heal just that little bit further.

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    05 Sep 2025