VALEN T.
Member
- welcomeprologuebathosruleslinksnodus tollensthe realization that the plot of your life doesn't make sense to you anymore: that although you thought you were following the arc of the story, you keep finding yourself immersed in passages you don't understand, that don't even seem to belong in the same genre
- welcomeprologuebathosruleslinks
01470 b.c.
olympieion"do i still remember kairos...? darling, i wish i could forget"
kairos was the name given to the day the archon basileus deemed the children of olympus worthy enough to present once again to their makers: when they kneeled in front of hestia's fire torched at the altar in the middle of the cella, with their heads obediently bowed between their shoulders and a the weight pressing on their backs—a heavy energy behind, beckoning them to turn around, steal a hint—yet, their knees barely scraped the terracotta below them
this was their final tribulation: patience. to wait. and wait did they, with muscles aching with anticipation; their minds whirring with fear of who and what took part in their ritual, sat in their dwellings. with them. beside them. around them. silent, and observing to decide which olympian they'd claim
perhaps that was the most nerve wracking part, causing a swelter to bloom on their forehead, dripping like thick, glistening wax as the ominous presence of these mighty beings swelled the veins right below their skin: if they would be claimed. tendrils of darkness whispered demons of their anxieties against their bare feet, coiling around the flesh of their calves
"do you understand?!" a thunderous voice roared and it boomed, and it caused the fierce glare of hestia's flare to hiss ferociously, bringing a feral smile to the bearded divinity's harsh face: all deep-set creases and infamy-laced knots that had hardened over a millennia of ruling, trying to keep peace, failing. "why do you fret, dear sister. i am simply testing them." and perhaps, they were not nearly prepared enough because no doubt, zeus could see the way the blood in their eyelids quickened, if only reflexively, when their eyes flickered up and saw a silhouette, disturbing the curls of swirling darkness that swiped across the far wall. it was moving: their audience, the assemblage
and it embellished the ringing echo of their king's voice by a cacophony of screeching and hollering—the gorgons and the spirits and the monsters—making a mockery out of them. it splintered, it bruised, it stabbed in their backs with sharp knives and razor daggers
"enough of your inanity, brother," the curt voice was soft, not nearly as resounding as her counterpart's but a whisper was enough to silence the discord in the room, the shadows falling into dismay as if hestia had chided them directly and not their king. the deafening silence thrummed in every periphery of everyone present
the heroes for whom this meeting was convened were the only ones granted quarter from the distress when another tender sound caressed their sides: "do you hear that?" she asked, the gentle intonation trailed down the taut muscles of their rigid backs with a light, cool breeze, and suddenly, the darkness that coated the shell of their ears plummeted, and the temple vibrated with the muffled sounds of the outside world: the cheering, the hooting, the howling. "they are waiting for you. rise, young warriors"
when they did, they felt no different than they had at the start but there was a spark—purple, gold, cerulean—they saw shine in the others' crystal orbs. perhaps... it had been done. they turned to their eldest, yvonne, who only smiled back as the doors to the temple were teased open, blinding white light flooding the veiled temple like fluttering butterflies, beating away at the darkness with their delicate wings, the fresh smell of spring and flowers wafting in. it was so characteristic of kore, the sun-kissed goddess their eternal ally
the heroes shared a look as the doors are slowly heaved ajar, bringing to light their white chitons trimmed with red linings and gold tinsels that glimmered when the harsh afternoon sun dowsed them. their complexions glowed a healthy, honey brown when they stepped out
these warriors found themselves standing on the crown of the marble staircase, people crowding around the base, basking in the joyous screaming and shouting, waves of petals and wreaths thrown at their feet; the public's delight was written clear on their lifted faces, evident in their tidy appearances
the persons standing atop the staircase, above everyone else, in their weaved sandals, cast a glance at each other; to their left and to their right, hesitant to the last moment. could today really call for celebration when they were uncertain of their rank still?
yvonne extended her open palm as invitation first. "always together," the gesture seemed to say, and hesitantly so, the others accepted it, clutching the hands of each other tightly, firmly, squeezing for reassurance: "you won't let go?"
"never." and they shot their arms high, as the people screamed and shouted, "hosanna!"
hosanna, indeed
for just perhaps, the ones the gods loved most could be the heroes of their people and their nation when they needed saving most - welcomeprologuebathosruleslinks
0290 b.c.
jupiter capitolinusi hope that one day, my brothers and sisters, you can find it in yourself to forgive me. i hope that you'll pray for me, fret over my afterlife as much as your own because today i willingly invite the wrath of zeus upon myself
i don't believe we can continue living this way any longer: under the oppression of the romans as they continue to ravage our lands and steal our traditions for themselves: they strike down our gods, empty our temples and order our own sculptors to create statues of equal magnificence so that they may replace the empty pedestals in our dwellings with cult statues of their own
we were told to wait
upon your request, i besought our twelve benevolent olympians for help and was told to be patient. to wait. they told me the situation will rise in our favour, and now i voice the question plaguing your minds yet, none of you share: how much longer do we wait?
today marks a centenary since our gods last spoke to us, and my good brothers and sisters, i believe it's time we accept our fate
this will lead to our untimely demise, and right now, the forefront of our concerns should not be the people who are slowly losing faith in our abilities; it's not our gods who've spent the past century in hiding, ignoring the children they once claimed so proudly; and it's not the romans who entice us with promised riches and treasures should we concede to their rule
no. it should be ourselves
my dearests, forgive me for my colloquial speech, i mean not to disrespect you, only to alight the realisation that it is only ourselves who can fend for us
my golden ones
i write this now, at such an odd time at night in such desperation that the ink bleeds into the crevices of my hand, to seek forgiveness from you: not only for my blatant treachery to our providers but also for not disclosing this sooner. i should have, i'm aware
and i could have the last time we gathered, but seeing you crowd around the sacred fire in the temple of vesta... the mere thought of myself being the cause of your dilapidated smiles afterwards... i would rather have been the one clytemnestra stabbed clean through each opening of the mesh net
it's rather ironic that i'm the one who realises now: i cannot live either way. so i apologise once more, and this time for the disorder you will receive this letter in
oh, my lovers, i keep thinking of your radiant eyes burning out, and i must not dawdle any longer:
rome is coming for us
i overheard the guards during my last visit to palatine hill: they spoke of deicide of the ones with "blood running as gold." i could not discern much of their slurred, boorish dialects, but i understood enough to know and to let you know: they are coming for us
I know you will despise me for not sharing this critical piece of information sooner, and some of you might accuse me and blame me, and I can understand that too. I am not here to fight my case or to justify my reasoning. I am here to warn you and if you decide to heed my warnings...
Then head for neapolis and we will reconvene in the docks north of the main city in one week's time. until then, wait. i would rather drive knives in my flesh over and over than lie to you so i beg: be patient. your virtues will surely be rewarded, my doves
stay safe
i hope to see you all soon
yours in heart and soul
yvonne - welcomeprologuebathosruleslinksgms .αʹ
@kashbambi and myself are the gms of this roleplay. we'll be as just as possible but as long as you're mindful of our rules, we don't believe there will be any issues. If you have any questions, concerns, or suggestions, don't hesitate to contact either (or both) of us ♡
As GMs, we reserve the right to subtly guide other characters' actions in our GM posts depending on what said character does (e.g. if they touch an ancient artifact: how are they affected by it? we'll dictate that), but it will never be to the point of taking over the character or bringing unearthly changes in their personality
template .βʹ
no matter what your ic layout is, it must include: yc's name, their current location, the amount of leftover teleac in their pendant, and the appropriate tags of players who're mentioned in your post
length .γʹ
one-liners are ineffably out of question but this is no novella-length rp either. there is no strict "minimum," the essence is always quality over quantity: be generous with your writing and give your partners enough to build their reply off of
note: some scenes require barely a paragraph of response (e.g. combat, conversation, etc,) while others warrant more. don't fret over length too much
activity .δʹ
one reply every three days (i.e. two per week) would be ideal. however, this is a long term rp so we understand if activity is sparse every now and then
If anything comes up during the roleplay (or you're going on hiatus), a couple days' notice would be much appreciated so we can help give your character(s) a satisfying IC ending
And always remember: your mental health and real life commitments always take precedence over roleplaying
literacy .εʹ
We should be able to comprehend your work: decent grammar, punctuation, and sentence-structure is expected, and the occasional error will be overlooked. Third-person perspective is compulsory
content .ϛʹ
this roleplay will deal with potentially-triggering content such as violence / murder / gore, mental health issues, swearing, etc, all within the rules of rpn
players are required to include the appropriate trigger / content warnings if their reply discusses themes rated above PG-13
we cannot stress this enough: misrepresentation of mental or physical disorders / disabilities, cultures, and ethnic groups will not be tolerated. do your research!
romance .ζʹ
this is not a romantic roleplay, but romance can be plotted if you and your partner(s) are on the same page
intimacy and vulnerability, either platonic or romantic, is captivating, but fade to black if needed. and remember: platonic bonds are just as important, if not more, than romantic ones
accuracy .ηʹ
this is a period piece / alt. history roleplay, which means we hold creative freedom over the details of the setting so no one is required to read up on all the historical events of the last four thousand year
However, be reasonable with the details i.e flashlights and phones did not exist in the B.C!
code .θʹ
we stan visually appealing posts and pinterest aesthetics / moodboards in this household but they are not part of the requisite. if you plan on using a template, make sure to leave a mobile-friendly spoiler if the code isn't
dice .ιʹ
this roleplay will be incorporating dice to ensure there is minimal god-modding that occurs e.g. whether the hit yc landed on a beast did any damage, whether yc dodged an attack in time, whether yc managed to convince an npc of something, etc03APODOSIS - welcomeprologuebathosstoryruleslinksinterest checklinkedooclinked
code by valen t.
- nodus tollensThe realization that the plot of your life doesn't make sense to you anymore: that although you thought you were following the arc of the story, you keep finding yourself immersed in passages you don't understand, that don't even seem to belong in the same genre
01470 b.c.
olympieion"Do I still remember Kairos...? Darling, I wish I could forget"
Kairos was the name given to the day the archon basileus deemed the children of Olympus worthy enough to present once again to their makers: when they kneeled in front of Hestia's fire torched at the altar in the middle of the cella, with their heads obediently bowed between their shoulders and a the weight pressing on their backs—a heavy energy behind, beckoning them to turn around, steal a hint—yet, their knees barely scraped the terracotta below them
This was their final tribulation: patience. To wait. And wait did they, with muscles aching with anticipation; their minds whirring with fear of who and what took part in their ritual, sat in their dwellings. With them. Beside them. Around them. Silent, and observing to decide which Olympian they'd claim
Perhaps that was the most nerve wracking part, causing a swelter to bloom on their forehead, dripping like thick, glistening wax as the ominous presence of these mighty beings swelled the veins right below their skin: if they would be claimed. Tendrils of darkness whispered demons of their anxieties against their bare feet, coiling around the flesh of their calves
"Do you understand?!" a thunderous voice roared and it boomed, and it caused the fierce glare of Hestia's flare to hiss ferociously, bringing a feral smile to the bearded divinity's harsh face: all deep-set creases and infamy-laced knots that had hardened over a millennia of ruling, trying to keep peace, failing. "Why do you fret, dear sister. I am simply testing them." And perhaps, they were not nearly prepared enough because no doubt, Zeus could see the way the blood in their eyelids quickened, if only reflexively, when their eyes flickered up and saw a silhouette, disturbing the curls of swirling darkness that swiped across the far wall. It was moving: their audience, the assemblage
And it embellished the ringing echo of their king's voice by a cacophony of screeching and hollering—the gorgons and the spirits and the monsters—making a mockery out of them. It splintered, it bruised, it stabbed in their backs with sharp knives and razor daggers
"Enough of your inanity, brother," the curt voice was soft, not nearly as resounding as her counterpart's but a whisper was enough to silence the discord in the room, the shadows falling into dismay as if Hestia had chided them directly and not their king. The deafening silence thrummed in every periphery of everyone present
The heroes for whom this meeting was convened were the only ones granted quarter from the distress when another tender sound caressed their sides: "Do you hear that?" She asked, the gentle intonation trailed down the taut muscles of their rigid backs with a light, cool breeze, and suddenly, the darkness that coated the shell of their ears plummeted, and the temple vibrated with the muffled sounds of the outside world: the cheering, the hooting, the howling. "They are waiting for you. Rise, young warriors"
When they did, they felt no different than they had at the start but there was a spark—purple, gold, cerulean—they saw shine in the others' crystal orbs. Perhaps... it had been done. They turned to their eldest, Yvonne, who only smiled back as the doors to the temple were teased open, blinding white light flooding the veiled temple like fluttering butterflies, beating away at the darkness with their delicate wings, the fresh smell of spring and flowers wafting in. It was so characteristic of Kore, the sun-kissed goddess their eternal ally
The heroes shared a look as the doors are slowly heaved ajar, bringing to light their white chitons trimmed with red linings and gold tinsels that glimmered when the harsh afternoon sun dowsed them. Their complexions glowed a healthy, honey brown when they stepped out
These warriors found themselves standing on the crown of the marble staircase, people crowding around the base, basking in the joyous screaming and shouting, waves of petals and wreaths thrown at their feet; the public's delight was written clear on their lifted faces, evident in their tidy appearances
The persons standing atop the staircase, above everyone else, in their weaved sandals, cast a glance at each other; to their left and to their right, hesitant to the last moment. Could today really call for celebration when they were uncertain of their rank still?
Yvonne extended her open palm as invitation first. "Always together," the gesture seemed to say, and hesitantly so, the others accepted it, clutching the hands of each other tightly, firmly, squeezing for reassurance: "You won't let go?"
"Never." and they shot their arms high, as the people screamed and shouted, "Hosanna!"
Hosanna, indeed
For just perhaps, the ones the gods loved most could be the heroes of their people and their nation when they needed saving most0290 b.c.
jupiter capitolinusI hope that one day, my brothers and sisters, you can find it in yourself to forgive me. I hope that you'll pray for me, fret over my afterlife as much as your own because today I willingly invite the wrath of zeus upon myself
I don't believe we can continue living this way any longer: under the oppression of the Romans as they continue to ravage our lands and steal our traditions for themselves: they strike down our gods, empty our temples and order our own sculptors to create statues of equal magnificence so that they may replace the empty pedestals in our dwellings with cult statues of their own
We were told to wait
Upon your request, I besought our Twelve Benevolent Olympians for help and was told to be patient. To wait. They told me the situation will rise in our favour, and now I voice the question plaguing your minds yet, none of you share: how much longer do we wait?
Today marks a centenary since our gods last spoke to us, and my good brothers and sisters, I believe it's time we accept our fate
This will lead to our untimely demise, and right now, the forefront of our concerns should not be the people who are slowly losing faith in our abilities; it's not our gods who've spent the past century in hiding, ignoring the children they once claimed so proudly; and it's not the Romans who entice us with promised riches and treasures should we concede to their rule
No. It should be ourselves
My dearests, forgive me for my colloquial speech, I mean not to disrespect you, only to alight the realisation that it is only ourselves who can fend for us
My golden ones
I write this now, at such an odd time at night in such desperation that the ink bleeds into the crevices of my hand, to seek forgiveness from you: not only for my blatant treachery to our providers but also for not disclosing this sooner. I should have, I'm aware
And I could have the last time we gathered, but seeing you crowd around the sacred fire in the temple of Vesta... the mere thought of myself being the cause of your dilapidated smiles afterwards... I would rather have been the one Clytemnestra stabbed clean through each opening of the mesh net
It's rather ironic that i'm the one who realises now: I cannot live either way. So I apologise once more, and this time for the disorder you will receive this letter in
Oh, my lovers, I keep thinking of your radiant eyes burning out, and I must not dawdle any longer:
Rome is coming for us
I overheard the guards during my last visit to Palatine Hill: they spoke of deicide of the ones with "blood running as gold." I could not discern much of their slurred, boorish dialects, but I understood enough to know and to let you know: they are coming for us
I know you will despise me for not sharing this critical piece of information sooner, and some of you might accuse me and blame me, and I can understand that too. I am not here to fight my case or to justify my reasoning. I am here to warn you and if you decide to heed my warnings...
Then head for Neapolis and we will reconvene in the docks north of the main city in one week's time. Until then, wait. I would rather drive knives in my flesh over and over than lie to you so I beg: be patient. Your virtues will surely be rewarded, my doves
Stay safe
I hope to see you all soon
Yours in heart and soul
Yvonne- 03
apodosisαʹ. GMS
@kashbambi and myself are the GMs of this roleplay. We'll be as just as possible but as long as you're mindful of our rules, we don't believe there will be any issues. If you have any questions, concerns, or suggestions, don't hesitate to contact either (or both) of us ♡
As GMs, we reserve the right to subtly guide other characters' actions in our GM posts depending on what said character does (e.g. if they touch an ancient artifact: how are they affected by it? We'll dictate that), but it will never be to the point of taking over the character or bringing unearthly changes in their personality
βʹ. TEMPLATE
No matter what your IC layout is, it must include: YC's name, their current location, the amount of leftover Teleac in their pendant, and the appropriate tags of players who're mentioned in your post
γʹ. LENGTH
One-liners are ineffably out of question but this is no novella-length RP either. There is no strict "minimum," the essence is always quality over quantity: be generous with your writing and give your partners enough to build their reply off of
Note: some scenes require barely a paragraph of response (e.g. combat, conversation, etc,) while others warrant more. Don't fret over length too much
δʹ. ACTIVITY
One reply every three days (i.e. two per week) would be ideal. However, this is a long term RP so we understand if activity is sparse every now and then
If anything comes up during the roleplay (or you're going on hiatus), a couple days' notice would be much appreciated so we can help give your character(s) a satisfying IC ending
And always remember: your mental health and real life commitments always take precedence over roleplaying
εʹ. LITERACY
We should be able to comprehend your work: decent grammar, punctuation, and sentence-structure is expected, and the occasional error will be overlooked. Third-person perspective is compulsory
ϛʹ. CONTENT
This roleplay will deal with potentially-triggering content such as violence / murder / gore, mental health issues, swearing, etc, all within the rules of RPN
Players are required to include the appropriate trigger / content warnings if their reply discusses themes rated above PG-13
We cannot stress this enough: misrepresentation of mental or physical disorders / disabilities, cultures, and ethnic groups will not be tolerated. Do your research!
ζʹ. ROMANCE
This is not a romantic roleplay, but romance can be plotted if you and your partner(s) are on the same page
Intimacy and vulnerability, either platonic or romantic, is captivating, but fade to black if needed. And remember: platonic bonds are just as important, if not more, than romantic ones
ηʹ. ACCURACY
This is a period piece / alt. history roleplay, which means we hold creative freedom over the details of the setting so no one is required to read up on all the historical events of the last four thousand year
However, be reasonable with the details i.e flashlights and phones did not exist in the B.C!
θʹ. CODE
We stan visually appealing posts and Pinterest aesthetics / moodboards in this household but they are not part of the requisite. If you plan on using a template, make sure to leave a mobile-friendly spoiler if the code isn't
ιʹ. DICE
This roleplay will be incorporating dice to ensure there is minimal god-modding that occurs e.g. whether the hit YC landed on a beast did any damage, whether YC dodged an attack in time, whether YC managed to convince an NPC of something, etc
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