( 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 | 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.

[grunehexe]

[Sieglinde is not sure, sometimes, if she believes in Fate. But she wants to. Wants to believe that there is something that would determine certain events. If it was fate a man should die she need not feel guilty she could not save him. If it was her fate to have been born to who she was, there was nothing she could have done to prevent those happenings that came as a result.

If it was fate Patroclus should die once more, no longer allowed to flee from death's embrace, then it wouldn't quite be her fault, that Achilles had been with her instead of at the man's side.]

It is I who was blessed. And grateful.

[And that's all she can say in public, on voice.]

[heelies]

[At times he has questioned all that he knows of the gods and Fate, those powers which bind the world and orchestrate all that comes to pass, but always the dust when stirred seemed to settle where it ought to be: that which he sees, that which confounds him, he folds into the framework of his beliefs. His mother, Thetis the silver-footed goddess, had told him that while he lived, the bravest of the Myrmidons would die. So it had been on the plains of windy Ilios, and so it was now. No matter how the path winds, it leads to the same end.

Yet he himself was consigned to hateful death soon after he slew Hector, and here he remains.]

If you find yourself choked by sorrow and thus unable to speak, as I have often found myself these past twelve days, then fret not. Save your deepest laments for when burns the pyre, and these shall accompany great-hearted Patroclus across the Acheron.

[grunehexe]

[Choked by sorrow and unable to speak she is. She should have chosen text, but it seemed so disrespectful-

So she just makes a small noise, one of assent, the sort that goes along with nodding.

She wouldn't have much trouble at all, when it came to mourning.]

[heelies]

[He need not see her to know how anguish cracks her countenance. Yet soon enough they would be together to bear the burden of this grief, through the sharing of which they might find some peace.]

Soon we shall depart for the park, on whose broad field shall be built worthy Patroclus' pyre. Asher has a car into which we all can fit. [Probably. One of them may have to sit with the body.] You need not be alone.

[grunehexe]

[Logistics. Movement of the corpse. Movement to the park. Her preparations for setting up the barrier.

The funeral.

She just gives another noise of assent.

Until then.]