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[b][center][color=black]POSEIDON[/color] 
[color=#458a88]POSEIDON[/color][/center][/b][/h1][/sup][/color][color=#A9A9A9][sub][color=#458a88][b]ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ɴʏᴍ'ꜱ » ᴘᴏꜱᴇɪᴅᴏɴ'ꜱ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ[/b][/color][/sub] [sub][right][color=#458a88][b]ᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀꜱᴛ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴠᴏᴍɪᴛ?[/b][/color][/right][/sub][/color]
[sup][sup][sup][sup][sup][sup][hr][/sup][/sup][/sup][/sup][/sup][/sup][color=#cecece][right][sup]𝒊 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉s
𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒌𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕
𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒔
𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒆
[color=#458a88]———————[/color][/sup][/right][indent][indent][indent][sup][color=#458a88]———————[/color][/sup]
Moments of weakness came a dime dozen to Poseidon, dumped in alcohol until the wave of it slammed him into the ocean floor. Excuses couldn't lift the mountain that sat atop his shoulders, so he didn't make any. He merely showed up at the lobby door, flashed a smile at the greeter, and tumbled from elevator to bed sheets.

It's what he wanted, what he needed. Beyond knowledge or grief, Poseidon yearned for company. That's what the hot hands against the nape of his neck were for. The bites that sank into his shoulder. The purpling bruises against his thigh, his back, all over his neck. He sighed into every caress, ever hard hand, every pull against his skin. There'd be no other feeling than being cared for in a way only he'd allowed himself.

Perhaps Poseidon would get used and tossed aside and he'd tell himself he didn't mind. Until the next morning when his therapist called him over the phone wondering why he'd missed a session.

[b]"Don't worry, I have free time this afternoon. Lucky you."[/b] She'd say. Lucky him indeed.

Walk of shame and all that, maybe a few lingering lips that would later burn to touch. A quick one that didn't end up being quick at all. Then off to work.

Which was where Poseidon found himself now, staring into the abyss of fried clam strips lifted close to his face to the point he now smelled of them.

[b]"Dude? Peter. Peter, dude. DUDE?"[/b] A voice called from behind him, murky in the fog of his mind until it ripped him from those marshes.

[color=#458a88]"Wuh-?"[/color] Poseidon looked toward one of the cooks, Daniel, with wide eyes.

Daniel pulled his face into an expression of stupor, mimicking him, [b]"WUH? Dude, you've been looking in a buddhist mind trance for like 15 minutes. Can you tell my dad I said 'fuck you' for me if you're still stuck in fried clam hell, Dante?"[/b]

Heat filled Poseidon's cheeks. Had he been staring for that long? He shook his head and set the dish down on a server platter before rushing out toward the table he'd intended to wait. With an apology on his tongue, Poseidon set the family's meal down and shuffled immediately into the back where air conditioning would greet his burning face. For a moment he wanted to dunk his head in water, maybe the sea that laid just outside this greasy, fast food hell. Instead, he settled on grabbing his phone from his pocket and quickly gathering his things.

He needn't say anything, Daniel already waved him out. [b]"Get better dude. Maybe down a few cold ones. Or ten. Dunno. I'll tell the captain you threw up again or some shit."[/b] He winced at that, but waved in thanks nonetheless.

[center][color=#458a88]———————[/color][/center]
In the peace of his apartment, which mostly consisted of a number of large tanks filled to the brim with different assortments of fish and honestly nothing else of import, Poseidon allowed himself the respite of a shower. When the heat steamed the nervous panic from his brow, wiped the cold sweat of his ever present dread, Poseidon relaxed until he laid as dry as he could against soft linen. His hands grasped the sheets, wrapping it around himself to the nose and for a moment he simply stared at his ceiling to let his mind empty out.

Closing his eyes, Poseidon breathed deep. He counted his breath in, held; he counted it out, held. He chose to stay like this for what felt like hours until he finally allowed his eyes to open and his hand to reach for his phone.

Barely past eleven.

Time stood still for but a second with Poseidon's hand hovering over a name on his phone. Augustus. He bit his lip. Things started to get tricky for him as of late, but that wasn't something he couldn't deal with. It wasn't a surprise to Poseidon, especially when looking at his past which he never truly did too closely. A cursory glance.

Then it all came crashing to the rocks. His hand pressed the button, flying to tap words to fill the screen.

[quote]To: [color=#496281]Augustus Kingsley[/color]
I know you're probably insanely busy but uh.... you mind if we had a chat? Maybe over lunch or something. I think there's a few things we need to talk about.[/quote]
He nearly wrote 'my treat' but then remembered that day they actually did go for dinner and Poseidon bulked at the amount of numbers one could fit on a receipt. He'd choked on his wine that night, [s]then choked on something else[/s].

With a blush tinging his cheeks, Poseidon stood to queue up the edited episode for the week (a segment on the Philippine's own [i]Bakunawa[/i]), then went off to gather whatever nice clothes he could find. Preferably ones that didn't smell like fish or grease, or both[/indent][/indent][/indent]
[right][color=#458a88]———————[/color]
[sup][b][color=#458a88]Interactions[/color]: Jupiter [@fledermaus][/b][/sup][/right][/color]
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[b][center][color=black]HYPNOS[/color] 
[color=#d8afeb]HYPNOS[/color][/center][/b][/h1][/sup][/color][color=#A9A9A9][sub][color=#d8afeb][b]ʜʏᴘɴᴏꜱ' ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘ ᴄʜᴀᴍʙᴇʀ[/b][/color][/sub] [sub][right][color=#d8afeb][b]ᴊᴜꜱᴛ... ᴡᴏᴏᴘꜱ[/b][/color][/right][/sub][/color]
[sup][sup][sup][sup][sup][sup][hr][/sup][/sup][/sup][/sup][/sup][/sup]
[color=#cecece][indent][indent][indent]There could be no surprise for Hypnos that he'd miss a number of things that day. Why had he gone to the Conclave anyways other than to potentially get his ass chewed out by the Morrigan. Lucky for him when he'd awoken, tugged Kore awake, and fled, the goddess had her hands full with a phone call.

Still, to be filled in of the events held there didn't sit well with Hypnos. He should have at least been present to assist. Of course, all he could do now was feel guilty and sad... and sleepy. That's all he'd ever feel, usually in that order.

Deep dark met him that morning. His hands curled over the heavy duvet, tugging at it until the sheet covered the bridge of his nose. Ink danced against the backdrop, like hands reaching from the depths of a slow, calm river. He wanted to reach up and touch them, grasp their fingers in his until they melted into softness, into poppy petals that sank between the lines of his sheets. A sigh left him like mist into the void.

From darkness, Hypnos stepped into dim light where the sun would peak just between the fibers of his curtains. They'd settle softly, gentle against the hard, wooden floors rather than harsh and blinding. Between the sunspots on his floors, Hypnos glided toward the keyboard settled against the wall where the vines of a plant hung just above and pictures of quiet forests settled in frames against his cream walls. With no other urges that gripped him, no responsibilities beyond letting those he cared for know he still lived, Hypnos descended against the keyboards with soft eyes, half-lidded to the morning, but welcoming with a smile nonetheless and a familiar song on his tongue—not his, but still lovely.

[indent][indent][i][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fsu5ZZwzFyk][color=#d8afeb]True that I saw[/color][/url] her hair like the branch of a tree / Willow dancin' on air before covering me / Under cotton and calicoes / Over canopy dappled long ago...[/i][/indent][/indent]
Sweet and airy, honey dripping from poppy for the earth and the air around him. It came and went like the birds on his windowsill, like the fall that bit at his heels, and the pang in his heart at starry nights in poppy fields, hands dipped into the river, a sudden person shaped void in his life in godhood and mortaldom. What he wanted to hold in his hands, yet never gave himself the chance to. That wasn't his to take or receive, he knew that. He knew that as hard as the guilt that ate at him. Until his song left him, keys pressing softer and softer until the melody flew to the rafters on wisps of his own terrible melancholia.

He needed something else that the keys of his piano wouldn't provide him.

[quote]To: [color=#F4BBFF]Bringer of Dahlias[/color]
care to grab some tea? i... dont think i wanna be alone rn
i think my poppies are dying
no wait that's just me 😭[/quote]
Even if Kore wanted to be alone or simply didn't answer for reasons Hypnos would understand, he still needed the backdrop of Seattle noise in his mind. It was too quiet up here and his own voice filling room didn't help that.

Oops, he forget a shirt and pants. The older gentleman across the hall gave him a look, brows a fine line against his forehead. Hypnos gasped, folding in on himself before he slunk back inside to retrieve his clothing.

[/indent][/indent][/indent]
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[right][sup][b][color=#d8afeb]Interactions[/color]: Kore (Text) [@Icy Hot][/b][/sup][/right][/color]