Children of the Gods

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Xanthia sighed from Bob, but was still focused on Ares. Only when a new voice sounded did she move her attention. She let Aaron explain, as it seemed he needed to get it out of his system. In the darkness, she could see excellently, but she still did not notice his hand, as she was watching the young girl. When Aaron finished speaking, she added her own question. "And what's your name?" she asked, realising her voice sounded soft. Wait..what the fuck..did I just speak nicely and softly?!?..I need to get out of here.. She sidestepped slightly from the others, only slightly. Something unnoticeable by most.
 
Ruya had considered joining in on the circus show...but it was far funnier just to watch. In fact Ruya had never been so entertained. Better yet, a new freak seemed to be added to the cast every other minute or so. The untrusting guy- the one who didn't believe in the Greek God stuff- was Ruya's favourite so far. He'd just started bleeding, and the strangeness of it almost made Ruya laugh. But he managed to resist, as to not ruin the beauty of the scene. No, instead Ruya needed to heighten the tension of this dream-like occurence- meaning, it was time for Ruya to join the show.

"Excuse me Aries, I'm sorry to interrupt ," Ruya said, stepping forwards to remind everyone he was here, "These medals wouldn't have anything to do with our -supposed- godly parents, would they? See, I'm not quite following what's going on here- it's all Greek to me." Rayu gave a warm smile, while wondering if Aries was as deadly in his dreams.
 
Eva was close to slapping Aaron across the face... she was getting tired of all his close mindedness.... and she was getting a little tired of his cursing. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. Then she looked over at Aaron and saw he was bleeding... but he didnt seem to know it... She sighed, walked up to him and snapped her fingers in front of him, "Hey Aaron... your bleeding..." she said in her normal sweet and beautiful voice... but he didnt seem to notice. She sighed and slapped him hard across the face. leaving a handprint accidently.
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Ares looks at Ruya, "Yes actually they do." before Ares could tell him what the medal said he heard the big slap and looked over at Aaron and Eva. He was surprised Eva did that!
 
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As soon as she asked her question, things seemed to burst further into life. The cursing one addressed her first. As he whirled around toward her, knife in hand, she blinked at him, and greeted him with the smallest of smile, and a blank gaze. He seemed to be stressed, confused maybe? Obviously angered by everything that was happening as of now. From the tidbits she'd been hearing from the large man who she assumed was Ares, and the other young people here, she couldnt much blame him for his skepticism. Seraphinn watched him curiously, as if his next actions were enough to bring her further out of her constant, half asleep state for mere seconds. His Power Puff Girl band aid was really what caught her attention first. For being such a badass, as he tried to seem, he was wearing such a girly bandage. It was amusing to say the least. She didnt look long enough to notice the blood that leaked from him, or the unnatural coloring, and consistency. She'd now focused on what he said after he spent a few minutes picking at his wounds. The words he spoke seemed more calmed, softer...if one could call his tone soft.

"Greek gods? I fear I may have stumbled upon the wrong group..."

She murmured out in her dreamy, whispered tone. The only thing that made her realize this was truly where she belonged was the mention of medals. As soon as The Curing One mentioned her own, Seraphinn seemed to immediately notice the glint of medal around everyone else's neck, or on their person. Hmm...so maybe this wasnt just a screw up of misinterpreted dreams. She truly was supposed to be here. This was all beginning to become far too much for her tired mind to handle. Surely this was just some game that they had all been invited to, and she wasnt much one for physical activity. In fact, she was near useless. Her sleepy state, constant as it was, seemed to render her near useless for any type of physical activity, and to top it off, she was having an inner battle with sleep right now. She was so tired from the hike to the top of the mountain. She could just lay down on the ground before them, and drift off into the land of dreams without a single care in the world.

Lowering herself down to the ground, she settled for just sitting there on the rock beneath her feet. It was much more comfortable than standing there for the hours she assumed this was going to take for everyone to finish up what they were doing. Apparently that was going to begin now. She was sure that they had all gotten their introductions over with, but she had just arrived, and so no one knew her name, and she knew no one else's name for that matter. Looking up to the girl who looked like she could be far more hostile, and rugged than her voice sounded, asked for her name, and except for The Cursing One, she really saw no threat here on this mountain.

"My Name is Seraphinn Brimm, but friend like to call me The Sleeping Doll, or they would if I had any friends..."

She murmured once more, her dreamy tone nothing more than a ghost of a sound once more. Her gaze left the girl curious about her name, and fell upon The Cursing One once more. Out of all the people here, he seemed to be the most interesting. He, very much like herself, seemed to be the only other skeptic upon this mountain. Perhaps they were invited to the wrong meeting. A meeting of roleplayers who were soon about to engage in some sort of LARPing perhaps? She wasnt much into those sorts of things...physical activity, and all. The pastel haired girl sighed, and lifted her hand to wave lazily at the one who cursed a lot, and she tilted her head, her twin tails, which already pooled in blue swirls around her, shifting with the small action.

"May I asked what your name is? You seemed distressed about this, but I feel that you, and I have the same feeling as far as The Greek Gods, and such goes."

She then turned her tired gaze toward the large male who claimed to be Ares, and bowed her head toward him in a sort of apology.

"I mean no disrespect. I just have little to no known facts that you are actually a god, and not some anime fan who is currently engaged in some cosplay skit of sorts."
 
Xanthia walked over. "Eva, you're going to hurt someone. Stop." What is wrong with me?! She groaned inwardly, stepping back again. I'm leaving.. She made the decision, turning to leave, but only half-turning before she ended up stopping again, not able to make herself leave. She looked up, hoping to get another glimpse of the stars. Mom... She glanced at the newcomer. "I'm Xanthia, Van for short." Stop! she threatened herself in her head.
 
Aaron glanced down at his hands when it was mentioned that he was bleeding. Bleeding. That wasn't good. He wasn't supposed to bleed; bleeding led to pools and he didn't know what would happen, if he bled here. The little pink bandages on his fingers couldn't stop a major wound, and if he got one, what would the rest of them think? They'd think he was a freak - they'll call the cops or the hospital and he'd be dragged to the same place that Grace lost her legs. He glanced down at his hands. Sure enough, they were flayed open, the places around his cuticles had completely split and were now welling up with dark red blood, freshly oxidized and turning brighter as it ran down his hands. It began to drip on the ground, forming a pool similar to the ones that made up the floor of his bedroom. Aaron had unlocked the flood-gates, and now, the blood was dripping, flowing freely. He stared down at the fluid dumbly, for a moment, and then a hand slapped across his face.

Aaron's cheek was burning, and tears spring to his eyes. Eva had slapped him. Why had she done that? Had she done such a thing because he was bleeding? Had she done it because he disbelieved in the very thing that could make her the special and unique flower that she had always dreamed of being? Aaron whimpered, after the slap. It had been a hard slap, coldly administered. There was a sharp pink handprint on his face, stretched over his emaciated cheeks and acne scars. She had administered a punishment for daring to believe that they weren't as fucking beautiful and special as she thought they were. His skin was burning. He'd never been slapped before, never when he was this thin, this broken. Had she really slapped him for disbelief - or was this some punishment for anxiety? Some punishment for the crawling sensation that was tearing up his insides.

Aaron blinked once with his pale eyes, and croaked out; "What's wrong with you?" He rubbed at his face, causing a smear of blood to appear across his cheek; a crimson streak that stood out starkly against his pale skin. His eyes turned to the giant - the god - the madman. Aaron stared at Ares with a look in his nearly colourless eyes that screamed of sheer desperation, sheer fear.

The girl was speaking to him again, the girl that had just arrived, but his head was wringing, from the slap. It was hard to be certain of this sort of thing. She was asking for his name. It was too late to lie. The others knew his name, and he didn't want to lie. It seemed so pointless. If he really was going to be ritually killed in some sick-fuck's murder-suicide cult, than this was going to be his fate. Aaron took some small comfort in the fact that if his blood was spilt, at some major artery, he could probably drown the entire mountainside, paint the cliffs with his blood. It would be re-named the Red Mountain for the strange pools that had filled all the crevice's of the mountain, pools that were full of hot, sticky red blood. He stopped picking at his nails and instead, idly tugged at the medallion in his hand, the symbol still obscured. He flicked it nervously upside-down and right-side up, his hands brushing against the ghastly relief.

Ares, the god of war. A big jock jerk; just like teenage Aaron had suspected, when he head first read the Illiad. The most hateful of all of Zeus' children. But that was no real proof. People were assholes. People were far more likely to be assholes than gods. The other boy, Eva... they both shared the characteristics of an arrogance that all sorts of shitty people had. But everybody had ugliness. His ugliness manifested in the form of the blood that was now seeping through his sneakers, the pool on the ground growing steadily larger. The girl was still waiting for an answer to her question. What was her name? Seraphinn. That was it. She had a nickname too, but it wasn't shorter, and he saw no point in using it. Maybe it was her blog URL. Aaron could only imagine what a blog entitled 'The Sleeping Doll' could hold. He anticipated a lot of blues.

"Aaron." He managed, his voice small in his phelgm-filled throat. He couldn't say anymore. His words had fled him. He stared down at his hands and began to pick his fingers once more, unable to stop himself, the pink bandaids peeling away entirely in a stray breeze. The wind caught them, for a moment, and they were blown several feet away, deep amongst the dirt and grass.
 
Bob had been lost in a state of absence when Eva's attention was drawn towards someone else. The slap on Aaron's face however, snapped him back to reality where he turned his head to look at everyone, with a more than confused look on his face. "What's going on here? Oh, yeah. Greek Gods, what's that all about? The medals?" He thought to himself, then began to fiddle with his medal, giggling at the upside-down herb, before he noticed the new girl that had arrived.

A new girl. She was much calmer, relaxed, slower, sleepier and dreamier than the others. She was also very polite. "I like her." Bob said to himself. With nobody really noticing him, he might be able to move over to her without being noticed if he remained silent. Unfortunately, and unfortunately expectedly, Bob could not remain silent as his foot got stuck behind a root which caused him to fall flat on his face. Aside from the rustling of leaves and dirt he fell in, a loud crunch rang through the immediate area. A sharp pain rushed through Bob's face and he remained on the rock he fell on for a while.

When he got up, both the rock and Bob's face were now a crimson red, covered in his blood. Bob reached for a handkerchief, found in his pocket, then wiped the blood off his face and a bit out of his mouth. Anyone who bothered to look would be very surprised to see whatever injury had lost the blood, had already vanished again.

As if nothing happened, Bob continued his walk towards Seraphinn and proceeded to sit down next to her.
 
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Eva gave Aaron an apologetic look, she honestly did feel bad for that. She sighed, "I am sorry ok? I didnt mean to slap you that hard. I just tried to snap you out of it. You seemed... out of it." she looked at up at him with sincere eyes. "You didnt even notice you were bleeding." she didnt like hurting anybody really... she wasnt a bully... she wasnt mean, she was just worried about Aaron. Now that she has slapped him she felt very bad. Poor thing has soo much anxiety. She could since it now.
Once Eva saw Bob heal Aaron right up she was surprised. She new she had to pay Aaron back for what she did...
 
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Xanthia closed her eyes a moment. Nice. Now we're fighting. She thought silently before Eva apologized. She glanced over at the moving Bob and watched as he fell. Before she could react though, he had gotten back to his feet and was healed. What the..hmm. She thought silently, looking around the group. We're all different..mostly at least. She looked at Ares. "You still didn't answer my question."
 
Watching Aaron get slapped by Eva, was like watching your favorite movie character getting slapped by the villain, for Ruya at least. Until he reminded himself that this wasn't a movie, however odd it was, and he should probably do something more helpful than sitting there gawping. While Ruya couldn't summon his Godly father to help, like Eva and Van- Ruya's father never left his cave, to Ruya's knowledge- he could try to work out why the hell they were all here. Since Ruya was sure as the underworld that the God stuff was real (his parent's midnight murmuring about Ruya wasn't all that murmured), and Aries had confirmed the medals meant they had Godly parents, surely they were a group of Godlings, or whatever, with a mission to do? In the Greek myths there was always a mission to do, so why not know?

"I agree with Xan- I mean Van," Ruya chipped in, "What do we do now, and is there a problem?"
 
Aaron stared down at the medal in his hands, turning it so that the sigil faced him. A man in torment with a blindfold on. Was this some sort of metaphor for what was happening to him? His blood smeared messily against the raised relief of the amulet, his own blood filling the cavities, the lines that constructed the casting face. The amulet felt cold in his hands. He had angled it so that only he could see the face on it; the dark lines that had gone crimson with blood. He was lost in himself, bleeding heavily onto the pendent - and the blood dripped off of it, rejecting the metal as a thing to cling to. The pool at his feet was rapidly expanding. It didn't seem like cuticles and fingers should bleed so much, not from such small wounds; but so it was. Aaron wasn't even acknowledging it, focusing instead on the medallion in his hands.

Aaron remembered when he had cut his back open, in curiosity. He was thankful he had done that in the medical labs, rather than at home. The wound had made a hot, sticky waterfall down his back and jeans. staining the grey fabric a deep maroon. The floor of the small lab had become inch deep in blood; and then he had covered up his wound with a gauze pad and some surgical tape. It had managed to stop bleeding, but over the next few weeks it still weeped when uncovered. It still wept now, this wound inbetween his shoulderblades. But the drains on the floor had washed all of that blood away. There were no drains on the floor in the wilderness. His hands were slick with it, at this point, his entire silver medallion coated, and it was flowing freely off of the amulet, the puddle expanding to a nigh-perfect circle that was two feet by two feet. Aaron seemed to be lost in the lines of the amulet.

It was horrific, yes; a gaping maw with a blindfold. He could not imagine what sort of thing it would summon, or if it had merely been some cruel trinket from somebody trying to frighten him. It was frightening indeed, and sent shivers down the back of his mutilated back. Ares was trying to be good, or at least, trying to be fucking likeable. Whatever this thing belonged to would not be so friendly. If he really believed in all this madness; he had to believe that whatever came from this pendent would be evil, and twisted. If Ares was who he said he was - which Aaron still doubted, despite everything he had seen - it meant that his parents, his godly parents, were somehow related to this pendent. Did he really want to know who they really were? He slipped the medallion back into his pocket with a trembling hand; his hands moist and sticky. He sucked on one of his fingers, trying to clot the blod. He knew it was pointless. The acidic taste of blood rang sharply against his tongue.

A thought struck him. Aaron had seen the pictures, framed in the photo albums that his father kept on the bottom shelf of the family room bookshelves. The pictures of his mom - when her hair was still pure brown, lacking any streaks of grey. She was laying in a hospital bed, and in her arms, there was a baby with curly brown hair, sleeping quietly in the crook of her forearms. His father was standing over his mother; a proud smile on his face. He had been born of his mother's womb; there were pictures of her, pregnant and smiling - on vacation in Florida. When his mom had been pregnant with his little sister; she had remarked that when she was pregnant with Aaron, it had been much harder, the labour had been longer. He had almost bought into this stupid Greek God business ; but it was so obvious. He was the Palmers' boy. He always had been.

His voice came out choked and harsh: "If we really are the kids of gods, how could my mother have given birth to me at St. Lukes? It's on my birth certificate. There are pictures."
 
Ares sighed and rubbed his temples, "I know nothing about that but maybe you can ask your biological parents..." finally he let out a big sigh, "If you dont believe what I am telling you then I shall prove to you that everything I am telling you is true." suddenly when Ares lifted up his hands he teleported them all to the Heavens. Eva landed on her butt... luckly the cloud floor broke her fall. 'Wait.." she thougt and looked around, 'I am sitting on a cloud!' she stood and looked at the rest of her surroundings... There were golden and cream colored mansions and houses, and all the god/godesses. Eva's mouth dropped as she looked around, "Holy crap!" she said. When she looked up farther up in the sky she spotted a beautiful white Pegasus. ' Everything is so beautiful here.' She thought.
 
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' Everything is so beautiful here.' Eva commented, staring at a Pegasus. Ruya couldn't agree less. As soon as Aries transported Ruya to the heavens, he felt like being sick. Ruya knew he didn't belong up here- his parents were beings of the Underworld, unwelcome up here. Why couldn't Aries have just left Ruya on earth- Ruya believed all this, it was Aaron who was calling it s***. Aaron was definitely not Ruya's favorite character anymore.

Shuffling backwards, Ruya gripped his medal tightly to keep himself calm. Surely Aries would let them down soon, surely, if he could hold on for just a minute, Ruya would be back on earth. Then he could continue ignoring his phobia of hei- "I'm not scared of heights, no, not at all. Or Zeus zapping me for being here, then sending me plummeting down, down, down, down...no, not at all," Ruya repeated to himself in his head, or so he thought. Although a few whispers escaped Ruya's trembling lips. He didn't notice though, he was too busy clenching his medal, his hope for safety.
 
Eva suddenly started to sense fear from one of the teens in the group. She turned around and looked at Ruya and saw the horrified look on his face. She walked up to him and asked in a whispering voice so no one could hear, "You ok?"
 
Xanthia was speechless. She stared around, gaping. She didn't bother to stand, even though she had landed on the cloud with her leg tucked painfully under her. She didn't move, just stared around, amazed and curious. "Wow..Cool.."
 
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Aaron was still bleeding.

Aaron had landed on his back, and the force of it had knocked the wind out of him. For a moment, there was just blackness, and then, there was pure blue skies above his head. He clutched at his head for a moment, leaving a bloody red handprint on his already blood-stained face. He began to collect himself, rising to his feet, slowly. His hands and legs shook as he did so. Hand shaking was a common indicator of cannibalism, he knew. But he was not a cannibal. He had a boy with an anxiety problem, and blood that did not clot properly. Even on clouds, thousands and thousands of miles above the earth, his blood was still flowing from his torn cuticles. The only difference now was that the blood didn't have soil to absorb it. It fell through the cloud like so much rain, so much red, red rain. Aaron folded his arms across his chest, leaving two twin red waterfalls where his hands were.

Aaron glanced over at Ruya with his colourless eyes. The other guy seemed to be in just as much discomfort as he, but he reasoned that there reasons were different. Ruya seemed to be unsettled with the environment that he found himself transported into, whereas Aaron was more discomforted by the idea that he had let himself go this far into the depths of anxious delirium. Aaron had decided that he must be dreaming; this was likely a side effect of the hemophilic condition he was currently suffering from. This was a hallucination from one of his overly high fevers - he was still likely running a 105° fever, even if he didn't feel the characteristic fatigue, the similar sense of total drain and clamminess that he should be feeling with such a temperature. Aaron felt really nothing, a numbness through his form, save for his desperate desire to pick at his fingernails.

Aaron took the sights in. Clouds. How depressingly Christian. Then again, he had been raised as a Lutheran, and if this was his hallucination, his fever dream, it should look Christian. He supposed that was why he couldn't feel any sign of his fever, and why his urge to pick at his nails was the only thing that he felt. He had internalized his anxious habit, and it was so much a part of him, that the idea that he would pick his fingernails and they would bleed was perfectly normal. Aaron glanced at the pegasus. He had expected something stranger, the limbs to be grossly elongated, the snout to be blunter and more like a goat's. He suspected that his brain was trying to compile Greek mythos, and was filtering through images as it saw fit. His personal interpretation of the winged horse wouldn't be anything that his brain had seen before, or could even construct a convincing image of. No wonder it had conjured the typical depiction of a pegasus.

But if this was a hallucination, where was Grace? Surely he would have hallucinated her into this world? Aaron rubbed at his temples, leaving another bloody trail across his face. Two-thirds of his face was now covered, pieces of his curly dark hair was now matted with the sticky red fluid. Aaron coughed a little, and he realized that one of his hands was still curled around the amulet. The metal was soaked now; and though it had proven resilient to the blood; it was now a deep crimson. He clutched at it with his slippery hands, which were now completely stained as well, as was his sweater up to the elbow. Aaron felt his throat close and then, open once more. He stammered out: "Sickness behavior - a coordinated set of adaptive behavioral changes that develop in the ill during the course of an infection. Usually accompany fever and aid survival." For some reason, saying such a thing provided some comfort to Aaron. He was in the midst of sickness behaviour. This was likely just a fever dream. It would be over soon.
 
In less than the blink of an eye, the entire scene before his eyes changed immensely. From sitting on a rock in the mountains, surrounded by dirt, leaves, trees and grass to clouds and golden and cream colored mansions and houses, with more people standing around; more Gods and Godesses? Bob's head hurt, it couldn't handle this sudden change in scenery and much less the information that went with it. "I've died and gone to heaven, haven't I? Shit, and I really thought I'd never die." He thought to himself and let himself fall backwards on the cloud.

Laying down, looking up at the clear blue sky, Bob could hear the others. Some were happy to be here, some weren't. Fact is, he wasn't here alone. He wasn't dead alone. But Bob hasn't ever seen these people, wouldn't he be greeted by his family or someone familiar? "This doesn't make any sense." Bob thought, rolling over then buried his face in a cloud. "But what if this whole ordeal was true. What if we are the children of Gods? I mean, mom's been telling me I'm extremely lucky, but noone can heal as fast as I do. And that Aaron guy, he should be dead with all the blood he's lost. Might as well play along, see what happens. It's probably more fun than denying it all the time."

With his own mental debate over, Bob pushed himself up on the wobbly cloud, then walked over towards Ares. "So who are OUR parents, then?" He asked Ares firmly and showed him his medal. "Does this symbol remind you of anyone? I would think a God of curing, healing or botany maybe. It's also upside-down, you guys aren't the brightest, are you?"
 
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Ares had a wild guess of who his father was but he grabbed the medal and looked at it. 'Yup..' he thought, 'just as I expected." He looked at Bob, "Your parents are Aceso, the goddess of healing and..." he paused for a minute, "Koalemos... the god of stupidity."
 
"Explains why I basically can't be hurt." Bob thought to himself when he heard about his mother, Aceso, Goddess of Healing. Even he realized it wasn't normal how fast he recovered from wounds; it was almost instantaneous. Even when he broke his leg, he was dancing and jumping again one day later, completely recovered, it was just insane and impossible. Well, until given this explanation, son of Gods, which before today would've been classified as fairy tales and fantasies. Who would believe Bob could be the son of a God? Even he himself didn't believe it just yet.

But then Ares mentioned his father, Koalemos, God of Stupidity. "God... of... Stupid..." Bob said under his breath. Stupid. Stupid. Oh, how stupid Bob was. Everyone always told him. They told him he couldn't ever do anything, that he wouldn't be able to ever accomplish anything, that he was just too stupid. He tried, he really tried to prove them wrong, that he wasn't stupid, he attempted college twice and failed. He had almost accepted that he was... stupid. But Ares shouldn't have said that. This was the last drop that made the bucket overflow. Bob wouldn't be insulted again, not by his friends, not by his family, not even by a God.

A tear rolled down his cheek and his hands clenched into fists, shaking in frustration, he was furious. This GOD dared insult him. What made him better than Bob? If Bob was really a child of Gods, why would he be inferior to Ares, why should Bob be afraid? "Fuck you, you asshole!" Bob yelled and kicked Ares in the stomach. Tears flowing out of his eyes and desperation in his voice. "I'm not stupid."
 
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Xanthia stood up quietly. She walked over to Bob, not wanting Ares to hurt him. "Both of you, stop!" She was a little angry. "Come on, do we have to fight here?"
 
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