( video ) un: achilles

[heelies]

[There appears the grave countenance of Achilles, son of Peleus, his princely features marred by grief. His eyes are rimmed red and below them sink dark purple hollows. His beard is untrimmed and his golden curls, once long and flowing, hang choppy about his ears, hacked off by his own hand. Yet still he stands with shoulders squared and chin held high, as befits one who speaks before the assembly, and still his voice rolls forth like the iron-grey clouds that fill the sky before a storm falls.]

I come bearing unhappy news amidst a sea of unhappy news - but for me, no news could be more unbearable than this. An honorable man lies dead, overpowered in all his power, victim to one of the flesh-hungry who strike fear in the breast of this city. This was Menoetius' son Patroclus, my dear brother in arms...my partner in life. He was not long among this crew, and thus if you have no other cause for lament, then lament that you are robbed the opportunity to know him for a friend.

Yet now you might meet him through my words, I who have known him for the better part of my life and love him as I love my own life. Among the Achaeans there never was a kinder man: he cared more for the man beside him than for himself, and what he had he shared generously with friend and stranger alike. Almighty Zeus, bright-eyed Athena, and Apollo the lord of light always received supplication and libation enough from his hands. With so worthy a man gone down to the House of Hades, the country of the living is left far poorer.

In this nation flung so far from my fatherland, strange enough that the shores of windy Ilios seem almost friendly, I have not the riches I once possessed. I cannot give so grand a funeral as I would wish, as great-hearted Patroclus deserves, like that which I gave on the headland over the Hellespont. There a thousand men harnessed in bronze bore the son of Menoetius to his pyre, each one's heart filled with a dirge, while my deathless mother and all of the daughters of Nereus rose from the sea wailing and beating their breasts - but who in this land shall mourn him so? The honors I heap upon him here shall be only a pale shadow of all that he is worth, and for this my grief grows twofold.

If you have any respect for the dead and for the laws decreed by the gods, then hear my plea. A pyre must be built that my dear friend may pass proper into the House of Hades. At present he wanders lost by death's gates, the Acheron's distant shore far out of reach. How can I rest while he who is dearest to me suffers unwearying? Thus, his pyre must be built today. There is more than space enough in Oakwood Park, which lies to the west. I need strong men to stack the timbers, whatever wood can be found, and others to assist in the slaughter of the oxen, that the rich blood may make sacred the flame. None need worry about drawing the curious eyes of the Woodhurstians, for Sieglinde the Green Witch shall shield the area from sight by her clever magic.

All who come to honor Menoetius' gallant son are welcome to feast afterward. To fill my stomach when my heart is so empty is hateful to me, but what food and wine I have I shall freely share with any who proves a friend to my dear companion even in death.

[CLIFFS NOTES VERSION: His not-at-all-platonic life partner is dead (again), so anyone who lends a hand in performing Ancient Greek funeral practices shall be fed a hearty dinner of oxen kebabs. I will post a log for the funeral this weekend, but that will mostly provide narrative for the various rituals and handle the aftermath. You are more than welcome to assume your character's involvement there or in the feast that follows. If you have any questions or would like to plot, please PM this journal or find me on Discord at aristosachaion#4902!

EDIT 3/15: I have come down with a fever and am slightly dying, but nevertheless I will do my best to persist in answering these tags. Sorry for the delay!]

Comments

voice; i still can't fucking believe how long this is

[strictdiscipline]

[She's already heard the news secondhand from Sieglinde, but it's no easier hearing it the second time around. Achilles is no particular friend of hers but there's no joy to be taken in his suffering.]

I'm sorry. [For the loss of his friend, his lover. There is no one in Audentes she would ever wish that on.] I spoke to Sieglinde already, but whatever assistance I can provide I will.

i swear it looked less ridiculous when i was writing it in notepad...

[heelies]

[How strange it seems to him to offer apologies on behalf of Fate, as if mortal man and woman can do anything in the face of such single-minded indifference.]

As am I, that a second time I in all my great strength could do nothing to stave off the grim jaws of death ere they closed around my dear friend. Yet this is as Fate intended - the will of Zeus is absolute. Nevertheless, your words I take for a token of kindness, fair-haired Riza. It is a small comfort to know that even in this land, and among this crew that are as half-strangers, the death of so worthy a man shall not go unmourned.

action;

[pummelling]

[he's not going to show his ass on the network out of respect and also

Everything that could be said has already been said. Jin adds nothing, but when the initial message has been sent, he lays a firm, reassuring hand on Achilles' shoulder.]

You did well.

[heelies]

[Achilles was born to wear this princely mantle well and to be thrust into the public eye, a man like a beacon that others may follow. Yet when his speech ends and the flickering feed dissipates, his firm shoulders seem presently to sink, all of him like a sail that catches no wind. He does not quite look at Jin. There clouds a far-off look in his eyes: half of him stands not here but waits within the country of the dead.]

It is my duty to announce my dear Patroclus' passing through the hated gates of Hades. For so worthy a man to fall unmarked would be a grave injustice after he has faithfully served the gods, our fellow Myrmidons, and me above all.

voice | un; sieglindesullivan

[grunehexe]

[What are you suppose to do, in times like these? Sieglinde has never had a person close to her die, (not anyone she loved, anyway), only transfer... but she has to say something. Not just for Achilles' sake, not just for the traditions of his people, but-]

To know Patroclus was a pleasure, and to think that now others will be denied that same pleasure is a pity beyond reckoning. Rarely have I known a man so welcoming, and so kind, and that he should be the first of our number to-

[It isn't fair, but she can't say that, it's not going to help anything-]

Despite that it was a ruse, Patroclus welcomed me as if I were truly a daughter in his house, and such a thing will never be forgotten. He was a hero and example in his own world and in this one, honored twofold.

These Woodhurst people will never know the truth of what we do here, or what sacrifices have been made, so we- we must give him the tribute in death he deserves.

We must.

[So please come to the funeral.]

[heelies]

[It is hardly fair, but it was inevitable. To have defied the weave of Fate for as long as they had, two men marked for death, each one's lot sinking low in the great bronze scales wielded by Zeus almighty, was rare. Only a fool could think that he might continue in so grand a fashion interminably, and Achilles is no fool. Yet he cannot help but wish for one day more, one night more, each hour passed leaving him aching for more.]

You speak well and true, dear Sieglinde. Patroclus was denied children of his own, having no wife to bear for him strong sons and beautiful daughters, but he counted himself blessed indeed to welcome you as his kin. Such is the life neither of us were meant to keep, quiet and common while we ebb into an old age we never shall reach. Although it may have been a story spun for the sake of this mission, it was not wholly false. And fleeting though it was, for this time he was undoubtedly grateful, as am I.

( video | un: skywalker )

[apoptotic]

[ it was only a matter of time. any of their number could have fallen on any mission before, though they hadn't. and with how close his own fears to the surface&hellips; ]

I can help with the pyre. I didn't know him, but I feel his loss. And I'm sorry for yours.

[heelies]

[How terrifying it is to love one that death can claim.]

Anakin who wields the Force - your lament does honor Menoetius' son. It is a sorry lot indeed that I have been allotted, to lose twice over the man whom I love beyond all of my comrades, but the Fates care nothing for the suffering of mortal men. What has been decreed must come to pass.

video | un: reika

[p66]

[ It's hard, whenever one loses a friend. A friend of hers had been driven mad by it, and there was no magic to bring Patroclus back in Woodhurst. So it is because of this that she replies in person instead of text, looking somber. ]

I'll help if you will allow me, sir. I am stronger than I look.

[ The strength of five men packed into a girl shorter than most of said men. ]

[heelies]

[There dwells magic such that can restore life to limbs and breath to lips - at godlike Koltira's fingertips such magic waits - but even this could not save Patroclus, whose spirit had long since departed from his mangled body to clog the vestibule of the House of Hades.]

Your offer is as kind as he whom your lament shall honor, fair maiden. In the year I have known Ramir, daughter of Jolanda, I have learned well that I cannot guess one's strength based only on her visage, and thus I shall neither doubt your claim nor deny your aid.

voice | un: aqua

[keeper]

[ He had been so happy to speak of Patroclus when they'd last met, and though she had never met the man who'd passed, simply knowing how much Achilles had cared for him makes the sudden, unfavorable news ring that much more terrible and grievous.

...A moment of heavy silence, before she speaks, ] I am so sorry for your loss, son of Peleus.

[ (While she'll not stay for the feast, the fire she can at least assist with.) ]

If you have need of my spells, I offer them to you freely.

[heelies]

[Then Fortune had granted him one blessing and robbed from him another, but that which was gained far outweighed that which was lost. Now Fortune has turned on him once more, crushing him neath her great wheel, and he cannot see how he might ever again be lifted high.]

No gentle words are salve enough for my jagged breast, but your lament shall honor Menoetius' son. Moreover, I should find myself grateful for your gifts, Aqua, you who are beloved of Zephyrus. Your swift winds shall lash the corpse-fire to burn all the brighter - although it cannot be spied by the people of this town, this is no reason why it cannot be magnificent for this crew to behold.

[text | user: METTATON]

[ex_mettacrusher33]

[It normally isn't in Mettaton to acknowledge tragedy. There's been a fair share of it in the Underground and what he's learned people have needed the most was a distraction.

...this is different.]

Have you decided on what to do with the ashes?

There's a tradition, where I'm from. The remains of someone that dies is spread onto their favorite thing, as a symbol of their soul still being tied to something in life.

.It might be comforting.

( voice )

[heelies]

[Battered by grief as he is, worn thin by sleepless nights and tear-hazed days], he has not the fortitude to try to decipher what words he might know; he listens as the jewelry reads the message for him, and he answers in speech.]

What in this far-flung land is so beloved of my beloved?

[Neither incredulity nor derision whips from his tongue: this he asks plainly.]

Were I to spread his ashes over any place, it would be the verdant wilds of Mount Pelion, which in boyhood we called our home. His white bones I shall gather from the ashes once the corpse-fire has cooled, and these I shall seal in the golden urn silver-footed Thetis bequeathed me. When I too must go down to the House of Death, the fate that fast awaits me, mine own bones shall be joined with his, buried together by the Hellespont, robbed as we both were of our journey home: this was the last wish of great-hearted Patroclus, and to this promise my heart is bound. His grey ashes, however...with these I know not what to do.

[predomination]

[ah... and here he'd been almost relieved that there had been no team casualties so far. that was a very naive thing to think.

he has sensed any Pluses, or worse a Hollow, in the area, so that's a relief, even if he isn't even sure if that would apply in these worlds. Hollows should be everywhere in this plague ridden city, if they existed at all.]

I'm deeply sorry for your loss, Achilles-san.

[heelies]

[People keep offering their apologies, and still it makes little sense to him: he mourns not only for his own loss, but for all that his dear companion has lost, cast as he is through death's gates and robbed of so much.]

None is more sorry than I, but my pain is lessened to know that I am not alone in mourning Menoetius' son - and his too is lessened to know that he is not forgotten. Will you see him brought to his pyre, Urahara?

audio; un: cardmaster

[fateality]

[He has no fondness for Achilles, but he isn't cruel enough to ignore the kind of emotion he's feeling. Didn't he feel similar loss years ago, after all? That's why it's Twisted Fate now, after all.]

Suppose I could help with that pyre. But if I'm not welcome, I'd understand that, too.

[heelies]

[Nor has he fondness for Twisted Fate, but this day is not his: it belongs to his dear companion.]

No matter the bitter words we have shared in the past, I cannot condemn any who would wish to honor Menoetius' son. Let bygones be bygones - your aid is more than welcome, and so too are you welcome at my table for the feasting that is so hateful to me.

VIDEO | un: huntsman

[dishearten]

( the risks of this mission have been great, yet they'd never in all his time suffered a loss that had not been righted. this is a hard thing to face, and worse, knowing it happened to a friend. )

Sympathy means nothing when you are mourning a loss, I know it. But you have mine. Please tell me if there is anything I can do for you, my friend. I wish I had been able to meet him.

[heelies]

How good it is to see a friendly visage after these twelve days I have passed mourning in private, accompanied only by Kung's worthy son and Asher, son of Millstone, and of course bright-eyed Sieglinde. However, there is naught that can ease my suffering so soon, not with dear Patroclus' death so fresh, his body yet unburned. I ask only that you join in mourning the son of Menoetius, that so great a man may be honored in death.

voice | un: merchling

[wyvil]

I'm sorry for your loss.

[Wylan nearly winces at his own words. The words alone seem so empty. Wylan's not a stranger to losing a friend, understands the importance of a proper and respectful funeral. He wants to do something, even if he isn't the strongest or experienced in slaughtering animals.]

If you want something special for the pyre, I could make something.

[It's a new use for his demolition skills, but a worthwhile one.]

[heelies]

[Empty though such words may feel, still it lifts his heavy heart a few degrees to see so many near-strangers come forth in mourning for his fallen friend.]

What mean you, something special? What manner of craft do you wield?

voice | un: lucina

[tolight]

[ When this appears on the network, her gut reaction is to scowl, and ignore it. Yet this is different, somehow, and she doesn't need to listen long to figure out why.

There's something about this mission that continues to hit her right where it hurts; grief is, unfortunately, an extremely relatable emotion. No one deserves to experience the loss of a loved one, not in this way.

Her voice is awkward around the edges — but her words are genuine, if nothing else. ] ... I'm sorry for your loss, Achilles. [ And then, after a lengthy pause, ]

I understand I may not be welcome, but ... I will provide any aid, should you require it.

[heelies]

[The message gives him pause, not for any reluctance to accept her aid, but for surprise that she would wish to aid him at all. When last they spoke, sharp words had rent the air, which hung so thick between them, and shattered brittle upon the desert floor at their feet. Yet so much had come to pass since then, and even stones relent and change shape with time; so too with human hearts.]

Lucina, daughter of Olivia - I would not deny the aid of one who earnestly wishes to give it. I see that you are indeed your mother's daughter. What ire I nursed then I have long since set aside, and at present all other slights and wounds my heart has suffered before are swept away by this sorrow which fills me like a river in winter's spate. Moreover, it is not me that you honor, but great-hearted Patroclus.

video

[viscontree]

You have my condolences.

I can lend a hand should you need more assistance. Is that acceptable? [He just wants to help because he sympathizes.]

[heelies]

This is more than acceptable - I would not deny the aid of those who are willing to lend it. All who come to honor great-hearted Patroclus' passing into the House of Death shall be welcomed as friends.

video; un: @daria

[conqueress]

[ She knows what it is to lose a lover, for she once lost Drogo, who was her sun-and-stars. She'd bidden him farewell on a great pyre, too.

It seems disrespectful not to grant Achilles her condolences, though she doesn't think it prudent to attend the ceremony, either alone or with Drogon in tow. The risk of infection is too great, and her hunger pains grow worse by the day. ]

Your words do him a great honor, though I never met your Patroclus. Seldom have I heard such beauty, such love.

I pray that one day you should meet him again.

[heelies]

[Only when one has himself lost a lover can he comprehend the pain that takes the deceased's shape and suffocates the severed lover in its embrace. Yet sorts of love are as manifold as the stars that glint from the night-shrouded sky, and so too like the stars no two can touch one another. This particular sorrow is his alone to bear the brunt of.]

I have faith that I shall - I must have faith that when I too go down to the House of Death, there upon the Acheron's far shore shall wait some shade of my dear companion, and having both left behind our mortal parts we may embrace once more.

voice; un: ASCIIanything

[catphishing]

[Oh. Well.

This is not something he expected, or is sure how to react to. It definitely explains why Achilles had cooled on him once he realized he was part of the crew and wasn't native to Woodhurst, but now isn't the time to call him out on infidelity.

It's easier to opt for voice than video, but at least the nature of the post makes sense for him to sound upset even if he hadn't known Achilles partner.]

I'm sorry. I know this is probably really difficult for you.

[Probably? He winces to himself. That was a very poor word choice. He hates how bad he is at this.]

[heelies]

[He could weave the most eloquent condolences and still his words would have the same impact, no more and no less. What are words to the barren cavern hollowed from inside him? To the cold winds that there howl and lash his heart? If Oliver handles this exchange awkwardly, then Achilles in all his grief notices not, just as he had failed to see how his intentions were misread all along by the other man.]

None is more sorry than I, Oliver. Twice have I borne this heaviest of griefs, and for that the burden is no lighter.

audio | username: olivia | lol why am i here

[winces]

[ in the beginning, selfishly, it had been a conscious effort to deny all traces of his existence in her world, heart only able to begin healing after a purge. this in itself had been quite a feat, for it had never occured to her before all this how truly little a mere 80 people can feel, or perhaps it is just a testament to how in-tuned her soul had been to him, able to pick his presence out even among the largest of crowds.

it had hurt, and in many ways it still continues to, but eventually her healing had happened, and while wounds were still tender, they were no longer fresh, and easier does she find it now to open herself back up to the very thought of him...

which is honestly the only reason she had been able to stand hearing this broadcast all throughout.

guilt, of course, is the first emotion to swallow her up. guilt over leaving him to shoulder this burden again alone, guilt over condemning a dead man whom she had never even known... and then finally guilt over daring to even make this a fraction about herself.

in the end, she speaks up, because it isn't about her, and she thinks (she hopes) she can finally be brave enough to act like it. ]

...I'm so sorry you have to go through this again. If —

[ a moment of hesitation, of self-preservation. ]

— If there is anything I can do...

because you love me

[heelies]

[How jarring it is now to hear her voice, that which had once brightened his every day but since then has faded into the folds of his memory. After twelve days in which his thoughts have strayed not from his Patroclus, and his heart has strayed not from his grief, this black cloud that consumes him, he struggles to remember that he had loved this girl, so long ago does it now seem.

Yet he had - so fully, so recklessly. And in truth, he had perhaps loved first not her, but her gentle words, always the right ones to soften the harsh edges of his life. Even now there remains some part of him, an urge folded up and pressed deep within, that wishes to lay his head upon her lap and weep away the grievances that choke his heart, and she would keep his sorrow at bay for a time with murmurs sweet and hands soft.

She is no longer his cove in which to seek shelter. He had left her behind and the seas are friendly no more.]

Olivia...no more can I accept the gentle salve of your words. It is neither mine to receive nor yours to give. If you wish to share the burden of my grief, then come to honor Menoetius' son as he is borne unto his pyre, and come to the feast if you will. Yet if this is too great a burden after all the sorrows I have caused you...then I cannot begrudge your absence.

VOICE; UN: I CAN B UR DADDY

[moneyballer]

[Asher's tone is oddly subdued, grave.

It sounds as though he's rifling through something when he chimes in, as there's a ruffling sound that can be heard.]

So.

[A long, drawn out sigh.]

How do people usually dress for this sorta thing, where you're from?

[Perhaps if he hadn't been made to endure Achilles' sobbing, he would have uttered something of a laughable toast, along the lines of, "Patroclus was one cool dude." Being surrounded by grief and the reality of death, however, takes its toll on even the most jovial of souls.]

Like, is there a color we're supposed to wear, or what?

[heelies]

I ought to harness myself in my glinting war armor, the golden breastplate and greaves forged by Hephaestus, the helmet with the shining horsehair crest - such is how one honors a fallen warrior. None can tell me how it was that Menoetius' son met the end of mortality, but surely he fought until his final breath. In death as in life he was a worthy warrior.

[He is haunted by those final moments of which he knows nothing, all of it shrouded in fog. In Troy he had received news of all that Patroclus achieved ere Hector felled him with his long-shadowed spear, of all the strong warriors he had hurled through death's gates, but here there was no glory. There were no burning ships to save, no horse-taming Trojans to beat back. There was only this ignominious end in an alleyway.]

But this I left in the castle Oska ere we parted for Woodhurst...thus I know not with what to clad my body. How am I to honor my dear companion in this land so far from our dear Phthia?

video; un: steelsamayarai

[feytality]

... I'm sorry.

[There's a long, long pause as Maya wrestles with her uncertainty and her insecurity. She hasn't been able to channel Mia prior to coming here--- and even though she trained, she still can't. Her powers are weak.]

[But if she can pull this off -- if she can make this work -- maybe she can help this man. Maybe she can be useful after all.]

I think... I think I can help. I can try.

i'm sorry for dying

[heelies]

[He nearly says what he has said to all those who have offered to lend themselves to the building of the pyre: that at midday they would meet to gather the timbers upon which Patroclus' mortal parts shall burn. But it is the carefully measured weight of her offer that leads him to wonder if she may mean quite another means of helping. He knows not what this could be.]

With what do you hope to help? The stacking of the timbers or the preparation of the gifts? Or have you a different gift to offer?