Which Two Greek Gods Are Your Parents?
Which two Greek gods are your parents?
Apollo & Aphrodite
Oh, sweet child of the sun and love! Your father is the radiant oracle of truth, and your mother was born beautiful of Titan's blood. A life of greatness stands before you dictated by honor, charm, and consuming desire. No man can tell you what realm you preside over, but look to themes of daydreams and serenades as you grow into your power.
Hades & Nyx
Oh, sweet child of the dead and night ! Your father commands the Underworld, and your mother the mysterious primordial of Chaos. A life of greatness stands before you dictated by sternness, independence, and secrecy. No man can tell you what realm you preside over, but look to themes of souls and answers as you grow into your power.
More Posts from Deathshadowed
👊 to help my muse in a physical altercation. - from frank
They called her The Heiress. Well, it was one of the more acceptable titles to refer her to as in public or within earshot. Inheriting her father's ranch so early due to a tragedy, a crime that was never solved even to this day, people whispered possible predictions, none in favor of the orphan. Despite the tragedy, the pressure from every direction she prevailed against all odds. No one knew her given name, only her family one, Véghváry, what a strange name anyways; instead the young ranch owner introduced herself as Karma. Seemingly hellbent on taking her first name to the grave.
Law enforcement really couldn't take criticism, especially when it came to more serious matters and with considerable alcohol in their system. But how could've Karma stayed quiet upon the endless boasting of catching someone without a green card while the back of her property was a graveyard of gang members?
Cowards, all of them. The braver ones all had been shot, leaving only the rats. She dodged the furious swipes of the broken bottle effortlessly even in the crowded inn and broke an another on his head when given the opening. Smug chuckle freezing on her vocal chords when she heard the ‘Get her horse!’ yell.
Her boots a thunder as she sprinted past, avoiding grasps upon Villám's panicked neighs and the soon to be deputy sheriff trying to get close to the ebony mare with a knife.
Drawing her Colt was an ingrained instinct, yet that split second was enough for one of the officers to catch up with her. The man jumped on her in the word's most literal meaning, both of them landing in dirt, a full force punch cracking her head sideways before she could've shot in self defense. Head spinning with tongue tasting iron, the ten inch barrel Colt slipping a few inches out of reach from her always steady hand.
Karma still trashed, hissed every obscenity she could currently think of, her tirade cut short by hands wrapping around her throat with a "Fuckin' slippery bitch" grunt. She could try and possibly reach her gun and kill in rightful self defense, although knowing the sheriff...Villám neighed again, hooves hitting sand indicating she reared. She needed her, no matter the cost. The dilemma was solved when a well built man grabbed the officer and pulled the bastard off her in one motion; she couldn't recall seeing him around but he definitely seemed to be able to handle the drunkards pouring out upon the intervention.
Like a snake slithering in sand, she swung her body towards her gun, shooting the deputy's hat off with deafening thunder, immediately halting his excited sawing of the reins. Karma stood slowly, dust covered, bloodied, eyes wild with fury, Colt already cocked and never losing her aim.
“Lay a hand on my horse and the next one will go through your skull.” gone the visage most people encountered, the calm, leveled voice spoke of experience in taking lives. If not for the motorbikes parked nearby, or the neon glow of the inn, it would've been so easy to believe time simply stopped in the 1800s here.
“You alright there tough guy?” she inquired, but decided to not risk a glance behind, keeping the man in her crosshairs
— WE MEET AT LAST!
Possible first meeting starter prompts. Send me… (Send 🔁 + any emoji to reverse the outcome.)
✂️ to cut in front of my muse at the store. 🍝 to sit at my muse's table at a restaurant. 💰 to pay for my muse's meal at a restaurant. 🍻 to run into my muse at the bar. ☕ to get coffee with my muse. 💨 to crash into my muse, cliché anime style. 🐶 to find and return my muse's lost pet. 🙈 to go on a blind date with my muse. 🥴 to drunkenly flirt with my muse. 🎮 to play games at the arcade with my muse. 🚗 to pull my muse out of the way of traffic. 😱 to be trapped in an elevator with my muse. 🔒 to break into my muse's house. 👊 to help my muse in a physical altercation. 🍷 to join my muse at the table after they're stood up. ☔ to stand under my muse's umbrella. 👛 to steal my muse's bag/purse/wallet. 🎉 to talk to my muse at a party. 🚚 to move in next to my muse.
She stood her ground upon approach, even taking a step forward herself; steel heeled boots just as intimidating regarding sound as they were. Gaze returned with the same intensity with a secret underlying knowledge of what could she inflict if she wanted to. Start of something electric tingled at the bottom of her spine, she couldn't remember the last time she felt a similar spark.
It was a fair question, indeed it was a lot. And she had earned even more, especially if it was a gang situation.
“Y'know how women are. Spent it on clothes. On quality grains for my horse. Sometimes a saloon which happened to have a bath.” the ivory haired hunter shrugged nonchalantly, poison eyes flicking towards the imp child in torn clothes Villám was currently playing with
“And some always needed it more than I did.” a thin veiled admission that she gave the remaining away
A surprised chuckle upon identifying the source of the sound, no wonder Villám is uneasy around him. “You're a hybrid. Knew you had other blood besides imp.” eyes narrowed at the snake, for now on the fence whenever was that an insult again or an innuendo hidden paired with the look he has been giving her and she couldn't shake off the feeling of meeting him before, but...that was impossible-
A more subtle calculative gaze measuring her with clear interest and intent. Sharp eyes aren't as golden but an undescribable brown shade like whiskey in sunlight. Antagonizing bordering on courting. The feeling of being alive in the rawest meaning. Sleek, well built frame and couldn't have sat nor stood normally even if his life depended on it. Back and forth banter; a dangerous game with a dangerous man. Strong, sure hands' bruising grip or feather caress, whichever she needed, craved at that night. Lazy but steady heartbeat. A so sure smirk sometimes softening into a rare, genuine smile with radiant Angel Eyes.
A primal, pained shout -a few moments after registering as her own voice- as something in her ribcage moved, more precisely: beat. Her heart has stopped since she perished, leaving her aching and hollow, yet the long dead muscle gave one agonizing, reverberating beat. As if she's been shot. Hands instinctively clutched the now silent spot, one hand slowly pried away and looked at in horror of what just transpired.
“Conversation over.”
Authority mixed with the tremor of terror and freshly unearthed grief; of course she lived to lose him too. And she had absolutely no desire to share any of it. Showing weakness was already bad enough, but there also were other questions which she will never get the answer to
“Villám, gyere!” (Villám, come!) Karma called for the oil black horse with urgency, the urge to disappear for years in true Wraith of Wrath fashion has never been a more tempting thought
“Not enough targets? In Hell ? Surely you didn't kill all of them because my list is still full. Too dangerous to take on gangs, little poser? Your eye is only good to spot a curved rifle.” a hiss after the statement, of course she remembers. Of course she isn't planning to let go. Unless a genuine apology.
“Besides, even in my human prime I didn't even get out of bed for less than $3000. And that, darlin', in the 1800s was a lot.”
