nevermore_logs | (no subject)

Who: Briareos and Kymopoleia
What: Ever since the shoot Poseidon incident! Briareos has left well enough alone! Laying low is what monsters do to avoid conflict.
When: Thursday evening
Where: Local bar
Warnings: TBD

To say that the world had gone back to normal since he'd returned to New York was a lie. It felt like home more than anywhere else right now, but with Poseidon out he kept looking over his shoulder. He'd been dragged off to be killed as nothing more than bug to be disposed of. To Poseidon Briareos was no more than garbage. He'd once been held as some sort of golden boy, a favored of his dark father-in-law. The cage he'd been placed in wasn't broken, but he felt free for a while. As long as Poseidon was out of the city, the world didn't suffocate him.

He'd stepped into the bar that Kymopoleia usually frequented. She wasn't there. He'd had no intention of finding her in all honesty, the less he spent around the whole family the less inclined he felt to seek her out. She was hanging low, he wouldn't begrudge her that. Whether or not she still seethed hate at him didn't matter. She held something strange over him now. Inadvertently or not she had saved him from being thrown into darkness. He'd have been left to rot, slowly going crazy before the animals made use of him for food. He didn't even care if he died, it may even be a blessing in disguise, he just didn't want to go out in that way. He wasn't fond of dark corners. If his mother had been able to avoid it, he didn't think she would have. He and his brothers were the disgust of the earth.

He kept his distance from the people that swarmed the bar, keeping to himself to nurse his drink away from the rest of them. It gave him more airspace. Too many people made the once strong god frantic.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"He'd just come back. Not sure about you." Their powers were so small now. It could take years. Briareos was grateful to not be in Hades' dark chamber. What worse than torture and entrapment again. He should have been used to it by now, but it made his skin crawl. "His plan was to kill me, you intervened. He'll likely come for me first." That was Briareos' strange way of gratitude.

"I doubt I'll come back at all," Kymopoleia said after taking a long drink from her bottle and then putting it down. "No one really remembers me; I'm just a part of him. The last time he died I couldn't even remember who I was and I don't-" She stopped with a frown, realising just exactly who she was talking to. She picked up her bear again, tucking fallen hair behind her ear.

"I doubt he'll bother with you again," Ky shrugged. She looked up at him, cautious and pensive. "I keep thinking about why I didn't kill you that night. I keep thinking about how I should have let Poseidon finish you off before I shot him."

He froze knowing she had had every opportunity to take him out. "I expected you to," he hadn't expected she leave him. It put a strange vibe in the room, making the hair on his neck stand on end. Were they actually speaking to each other?

"I took a chance," Ky told him, looking at him seriously. "I'm exhausted from being afraid of you. I'm completely worn out by the idea of you coming for me and I can't keep doing it. So I took a chance. I let you live in the hopes that it would change something."

He was too stubborn to give her a thank you, it would have been foreign words in his mouth. When she looked over he kept that stare. "I won't come for you just to be Poseidon's lap dog." Not again. He'd given in in the hopes he could grow in strength. He was still even less known than her. Poseidon held all the power.

"You wrote," Ky said quietly, looking at her beer as she picked it up. She swallowed. "You wrote that you weren't here to destroy me." Her eyes lifted to his slowly. "Did you mean that?"

Without a beat he answered her. "Yes." He hadn't been playing around, he didn't speak that directly to her. He'd had a wife he had no idea how to treat. Feelings were unknown, but Briareos was far more human now than Poseidon had ever been. He didn't destroy people for the sole purpose to hold power. He'd simply done it to survive. He'd been hanging on by a thread now for centuries.

Kymopoleia nodded, just once, an acceptance of his answer at face value. "Okay," was what she said, lifting her drink to her lips. "Okay."

She drained her bottle and then set it down on the tabletop before standing. "I guess I'll see you around."

They were both proud creatures, he did not put money on any answer from her in return. She was what she was, he would forever be what he was. Her loathe peeled off of her when he spoke, little by little, as if she had no idea how to take his answer. He wasn't sure she would ever understand him, few did.

He stood as she did, having his fill of the people that started to come in, tightening his air space. He left a ten on the bar, sliding it towards the bartender and snapping his hand back. Bottle still in hand he took a moment to meet her eyes as he passed. "Have another beer." He slid into the crowd making sure they didn't crush around him once the door was in view.