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RUNNIN’ FROM THE PAST NEVER DID ANY GOOD; solo

The words of Emery Kate still rang in Clara’s head. His name a whispered curse fell from the girl’s lips and into their ears and just like that their life wasn’t their own. Sharp as a knife, Emery’s vision slashed the ties that Clara had to Savannah and they thought they would feel free of the tethers that bound them to the sleepy town. Instead? Clara felt as though she was falling, pushed out of a plane without a parachute strapped to their back as the breath left their lungs. It was said those who fell from a plane without a parachute didn’t die from their body hitting the ground, instead their heart gave out long before their skin brushed dirt. 

As they sat in their disgustingly dirty seat on a Greyhound bus it certainly felt like their heart would give out any second. 

The street lights flashed by Clara as the bus hurled down the highway towards Atlanta. That’s where Christine was. Sweet, caring Christine who had sheltered them as much as she could against Bernard’s psychotic tendencies. 

Christine was in as much danger as theirself. 

And Clara would be damned if they let Bernard touch even just one blonde hair on Christine’s head. That woman had been through enough, he didn’t have any right to ruin her life anymore. Bernard didn’t deserve to breathe the same air that Christine breathed. 

He didn’t deserve to breathe any air at all. 

The gun in Clara’s bag was heavy (or perhaps they were imagining the heaviness) and the thoughts in their head were scrambled, erratic, even blurry because imagining Bernard was not something they wanted to actively do. 

Even if it was daydreams of killing him. 

The burn phone in their pocket was a constant reminder of the fact they weren’t in Savannah anymore, and the ink stains on their finger tips only solidified that fact. Part of Clara felt bad that all she left Gina was a note on the counter in their shop, but they also knew Gina wouldn’t understand why they had to leave. Would probably try and stop them. 

ATLANTA - 75 MILES 

One deep breath later, Clara typed in Christine’s number into the burn phone (luckily memorized years ago). It rang two times before Christine’s soft voice answered. “Clara? Is everything okay?” 

Clara almost cried right there in the musty, Greyhound bus. “He’s out.” 

There was silence for only a few moments before, “How close are you?” 

Another moment of silence then, “Two hours.” 

Clara closed her eyes as Christine somberly said, “I’ll be at the station in one. Be careful lovebug.”

Careful was the last thing Clara was going to be.  They wanted Bernard to find them.  Wanted him to look into their face - as the life fade from his eyes.

“I will be.” 

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Mortal life was always so fragile, humans coming into the world with a cry from mother and babe to leaving the world quite alone. Persephone knew the fragility of life better than most. She knew it when it came to mortals, she knew it when it came to the seasons, she knew it so many times over it should have been no surprise to her when the Trojan War began and the Underworld bloated from mankind’s many souls. Persephone would touch their souls gently, the ones marked, the ones destined for the eternal curse and glide to the next damned soul. It was repetitive, but Persephone enjoyed it regardless. Despite the twinge of pity she felt for the souls she condemned to the eternal curse.  

However, it was time to take a break and seek out her husband. Persephone didn’t need to think about where Hades would be, all she need do was follow her intuition. After so many years within the Underworld and with her husband, Persephone had learned he was a man of predictability when it came to his three headed dog. Her eyes no longer wondered around the wondrously dark, yet warm castle that Hades called his home. Instead she was focused as she moved gracefully through the halls, the cries of the dead fading into the background behind her as she moved. 

“Dear, that dog is going to ruin the floor with its tail if you aren’t careful,” Persephone murmured as she reached the entrance of their home, her graceful movements uninterrupted from the tremors. As she moved regally towards Hades and the dog, she let her fingers curl into the dog’s soft fur. “The Trojans and Greeks are certainly keeping us busy down here,” she said as she moved her hand through the fur. “Not that I mind too much.”

not all things that glitter are gold || hades & persephone

The human, mortal life was forgotten and in its minuscule place stood a tall, regal shadow cloaked in jewels. The shadow was constant, never wavering, and ever steady as a heavy trail of precious minerals flowed from its never ending train of smoke and darkness. Its home, a cavernous depth just like Hell, was also its kingdom. There the souls of the once living found their way and remain, to forever circle and wind within the labyrinths of stone and ash.

Hades, the King, the Lord, of the Underworld stood much like a sentinel would as he eyed the surging, mist-like projections of the souls that flitted about. More and more continued to pour in, all men – all soldiers. The Trojan War waged on, and Hades couldn’t be any more agitated with his siblings on Mount Olympus. So careless. However, they did supply him with work, which was definitely better than lazing about in the vast corridors of his monument of a castle. At the entrance lay a massive, three headed dog, its fur coal black and eyes as red as the rubies that lay in the earth.

He moved towards it, feet light on the natural flooring, and reached a hand out, long, spindle-like fingers carding through the mane of dark hair. A sigh as he scratched on of the beast’s heads, making sure to get the good spots behind the ears, “Good boy.” A coo, a praise, something that was not generally heard from the god, not out loud. It fell heavy, but the beast itself wagged its immense tail in response, the appendage causing small tremors as it thumped heavily against the floor.

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Everything was a complete and utter mess. As Clara picked up the pieces of their shop with Gina, the more angry they got. It was all because of those stupid mortals. They had to go and ruin something beautiful. The flowers did nothing to them at all and they had suffered at the hand of mindless, arrogant mortals. There were plenty of things that were broken within the shop as well. Their door for starters was in pretty bad shape. It worked, but it was nearly impossible to get open and closed without throwing your body against it to get it to move. Many of their tables which worked as displays for their floral arrangements were broken and splintered across the tiled floor. Clara knew they would need to replace practically everything within the store walls. 

Which fucking sucked. It’s not like they and Gina had a lot of money tucked away to replace everything. Sure. They had money tucked away to replace things here and there that broke in the shop. But replacing practically everything within it? Yeah. No. They hadn’t planned on that ever happening. So, it was with great annoyance that they made their way to Nexus’ shop to hopefully replace some of the tables and the door for now. As they made their way onto the shop’s property, they recognized Silas (shirtless of course - Clara rolled her eyes at the sight) and made their way over to him. 

“Hmm. How about replacing everything that the mortals broke in my shop? Which is everything,” they grumbled as they crossed their arms. However, they slowly let their grumpiness fade off their face. “How have you been doing since everything settled down?” It was a simple question that Clara knew held a lot of weight for all of them. Some of them weren’t proud of the actions that their Gods carried out while controlling their bodies and Clara was among them. They were never a violent person at heart (nor Persephone truly) so swallowing the fact they killed several people wasn’t easy to swallow. 

Paranoid [Silas & Clara ]

Mr. Blacksmiths carpenter workshop functioned in one of the main town’s alleys and it was usually a hectic place, seeing how there weren’t many shops of same function in Savannah and his boss had faithful customers. Whether it was a matter of personalized business or if the shop was hired by some (most often furniture) company, there was always something to do – which Silas appreciated, both financially and entertainment wise. Free time was no good time, not for him at least. Excessive freedom, now that was the term he learned just how uncomfortable he is with, more and more, with each passing day.

It had gotten too heated for working inside and he was in the shop’s yard, sandpapering one of the custom ordered tables that needed to be done by tonight. He was supposed to finish this up long ago, but ending up in a hospital kind of delayed all of his duties. Nevertheless, he was fine now and back to business. The sun was merciless and he’d used that sun screen on the shop’s window to cover up majority of his skin, but it seemed he couldn’t very well reach all of the spots on his back alone, because he could feel the heat seeping through his pores and lighting him on fire. He’d never been this sensitive to temperature before, he deduced; whenever he’d get close to overheating, he would feel like an inner splash of Cold Ocean waves lick at his insides cooling him down. But everything was…had been different since Poseidon abandoned his mind.

Using the expanse of his bare forearm, he wiped away the beading sweat on his forehead just when a creak of wood had him shooting his gaze backwards quite violently. The path leading to shop’s entrance was tiled with wood, so whenever someone would come, the creak would alert him of new presence. And every possibility of new presence seemed to hold him on edge these days. Poseidon had used his body to kill fifty men in the very center of this town, and while there was a possibility that it won’t hold any consequences because everyone present to testify about it was murdered (except Athena, but her human had to know it wasn’t Silas’s fault), it was hard for Silas to accept that murder held no consequence. So yes, he was terrified and paranoid that whoever would come near him was there to punish him. He hoped the customer didn’t notice his violent body jerk, though, and tried to lift his hand up in the air to block the sun rays from blinding him to the point of not letting him recognize the person before him “Welcome to the ‘Nexus’, what can we do for you?”

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ECHOES; clara & open

Nothing could have prepared Clara for this. Nothing at all. They thought after being kidnapped and held captive for four years that nothing would take them by surprise anymore - they were wrong. Because Persephone has been quiet in their mind for days now and today when they tried to grow some flowers in the shop nothing happened. Which frankly, was freaking them out - big time. Ever since they developed their powers at sixteen and Persephone’s voice was a constant hum in the back of their mind, they relied on those things. 

Now Persephone and their power was gone and they had no idea what to do about it. So, Clara paced around the shop (it was a futile attempt to calm themself down, but they knew it wasn’t working) and every so often would try to grow a flower from one of the plant pots. When nothing happened (again) they groaned in frustration. “Why won’t you work?” they yelled at their hands, which were caked with dirt because Clara thought if maybe they touched the soil it would help. (It didn’t.) 

The bell above the shop door rang and Clara turned around abruptly to see who entered the door. When they realized it was a familiar face they sagged their shoulders slightly, but looked down at their hands again. “Please tell me I’m not the only one who lost my powers. I really don’t feel like going crazy just quite yet.” 

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When Clara realized it was Daya that had stepped upon their flowers, their expression softened slightly. “It’s okay. I’m just...on edge ever since things have quieted down. Which is really strange because you would think I’d be more relaxed. But nope,” they said as they bent down to pick up some more flowers from the shattered glass. “Lost in thought?” they asked as they threw the flowers into the trash can. 

It sucked, watching all these flowers get thrown away. Sure - all life came to an end, even the life of flowers that were attended to by themself. Even Clara’s ability couldn’t stop their eventually wilting, but to meet their death in such a harsh way? That wasn’t the fair part. They had suffered due to Clara and Gina, but mostly they had suffered because of horrid mortals who believed they were “God’s” enforcers. 

DISHARMONY; clara & open

The storm had winded down, finally the little town had returned to its usual quiet state and all the angry rioters had gone home. Scared off by only eighteen of them. The thought alone made Daya feel safer than she had in years, out there were seventeen others like her, some she knew and others she didn’t but all together they were an unstoppable force. It was odd to think of the voice in her head as something to be thankful for when she had forcibly repressed it since it first started talking.

These days though, Chronos was surprisingly quiet and while she hadn’t tried to use her ability, had no real use for it she wondered if she would be as effective as usual or if that too had been dialed back a notch. She has tried to call Aidan’s cell phone uselessly the night before and as a surge of worry ran through her for her friend, she had made her way to Gina Huang’s shop expecting to find him there. Clara was there often and he was usually found where they were. “Sorry, I’m a bit out of it.” she apologized as she bent down to pick a handful of wilted flowers.

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Of course it would be Kyle that stumbled upon them. That swarmy bastard seemed to be everywhere. It didn’t help that his face was plastered on every television right now. So, all Clara did was look down at Kyle with raised eyebrows and sharp, angry eyes as she snatched the dead flowers from his hands. “I suppose it can be. I mean, considering the colossal fuck up you made by giving that speech - I imagine you’ll be needing to do a lot of these acts to make up for it.” Though, their anger diminished slightly as they remembered what Kyle did for them and for Aidan. Smug, arrogant Kyle didn’t owe them or Aidan anything and could have let him die. 

So, their posture softened slightly and they avoided eye contact as they muttered a quiet, “Thank you for saving Aidan by the way. You didn’t have to, so thanks.” 

The words were rushed, but they didn’t care. Kyle would get the gist of their words and they wouldn’t repeat themself. “So, what the fuck is up with this Memorial service. They were the ones that hunted us down, Kyle. Like we were fucking animals.”

DISHARMONY; clara & kyle

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Clara’s hunch had been correct, which was good because they really didn’t feel like explaining themself for such a weird question. A smile graced their lips and they crossed their arms loosely as their posture relaxed. “I had a feeling that’s who you’d say,” they said with amusement coloring their tone. Their eyebrow rose when he talk about grown adults falling at his feet when he was only fourteen. Though, Clara could see why. As an adult he was beautiful in every sense of the word - perfect for an reincarnation of Aphrodite really. It seem the Goddess chose wisely when it came to the mortal they would reincarnate into. At his question, Clara had a twinkle in their eye. “Persephone. Which completely took me by surprise when I had that dream at sixteen. Though, the power I got after that dream has been pretty nifty.” 

“I think so too,” Inigo said with a chuckle. “Unfortunately, some of my customers are a little more conservative on the matter. S’okay though, it just taught me to hold my liquor even better.” The stranger was surprisingly easy to talk to in spite of Inigo’s tension in response to the whole mob situation. They seemed like they didn’t give a fuck about things they should give a fuck about, which he always appreciated and encouraged, and worryingly brave. Their next question seemed to prove his point, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Aphrodite,” he answered promptly, and without much hesitation. Inigo had learned to become accustomed to running into people who could somehow sense he was a reincarnate. There were times he could sense an ancient connection, as he had with Haven and Oliver, and other times he remained oblivious until the other party brought it up first. “But I figured something was up before I got the dream when otherwise reasonable people suddenly started falling all over themselves for a fourteen year old kid.” He shrugged. “Who are you?”

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Clara was about to walk about because clearly, this girl was off her rocker. She had gone on about someone looking for them, which who the fuck would be doing thing? 

But then? 

Then Clara’s whole world stopped at the whispered word of one name. 

Bernard.  Bernard. BERNARD.

There was no logical reason why he would be doing that. Clara knew that he was in prison. That he was locked away for a very long time for what he did. That he was never supposed to be able to look and find them and Christine. But something about this unhinged woman told Clara that they needed to fucking stop and grill the shit out of her. 

Sure, many people would know Bernard’s name if they looked up the articles from twelve years ago. His name had been plastered all over the National news. But it’s been so long there’s no reason why anyone would remember his name but them. “What the fuck are you talking about?” they snapped at the woman. Their posture screamed tension, their tone was demanding, and their eyes were stone cold as they looked down at the woman. “What do you mean he’s looking for me? He’s supposed to be in fucking prison.” 

If Bernard was looking for them? Clara didn’t know why they would do. Because if he had gotten an early release from prison or god forbid escaped Clara knew Christine was in danger. Sweet, Christine who had no way to defend herself. Not like Clara. Clara could take down Bernard without even blinking. Without even missing a heartbeat. Without any regret. 

But Christine? He’d kill her. 

And the Sky is Grey | Emery Kate & Clara | Pre-Leaves

Stop this! She yelled at Hera, but the goddess’s presence was no longer felt by the mortal. After all her babble about protectin’ her, she couldn’t even keep her from the things that pained her the most. Coward! She growled at the Queen. A coward, just as much as she was. She’d never needed anybody to help her before, and now she was relying on a coward? What a fuckin’ weaklin’! The self-deprecatin’ thoughts hounded at her with every beat of her heart that resonated through her head.

The vision was confusin’ as the people and places in it were none Emery Kate knew. The feelin’s that accompanied it, though, were some that she’d felt only a few times before. None that she had ever wanted to experience again. Fear, dread, were the two most prominent ones of all.

And the dread lingered as her eyes focused back into the real world, and landed on the person who’d spoken to her. What had they said?

“You–”

Her thoughts were incomprehensible as she looked upon the person –Clara’s– face, her thoughts muddled by the images that had piled onto her like snow falling from an avalanche. “He’s– he’s lookin’ for you.” She could hardly feel Hera’s impatience as she returned, feelin’ numb from the pain that resounded through her, but not numb enough not to take enjoyment in people squirmin’ for answers only she could answer. “Bernard.” She knew how it would affect the person before her, keepin’ them from thinkin’ she was crazy. How else would she know the name? Her heart felt heavy, and the enjoyment was short-lived as she truly thought on the images she’d seen. She didn’t want to be involved in this shit, didn’t want anyone to know she was a freak like the others… Maybe it was Hera talkin’, but Emery Kate would tell them, even if it didn’t align with her wants. She would tell them, and then leave them to deal with it.

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Peresphone wanted to laugh upon the site of the mortal boy Clara had met in these very bayous. What were the odds that Clara had run into another incarnate. It was too good to be true really. Upon seeing the water in her hands - Persephone quickly came to conclusion that she was looking at the one and only Amphitrite. So without any hesitation, Persephone dropped the vines that had been ready to strangle Amphitrite just moments before. “We really do, though it seems a bit fitting don’t you agree? A place where life and water meet?” Persephone inquired as she made her way down from the tree. If she was going to have a conversation with the water goddess she’d prefer to do it from the ground. 

As Persephone took steps towards Amphitrite flowers sprung up around her feet and a smile graced her lips. “So, what brings you to this neck of the woods - or bayou I should say. Trying to get away from the mortals as well? They have been rather...testy lately.” It was pleasant talking to another goddess, it reminded her of days that have long passed where she could travel where she pleased and talk to whom she wanted to speak to. Persephone’s life was drastically different in the glory days as she fondly called them. Though, she would admit that she didn’t miss the petty fights between all of them and silly grudges that so many Gods would hold against one another. 

No, what Persephone missed most was her home with Hades in the underworld - being surround by the dead who were woeful over their deaths but were often regretful of their actions and thus left the pettiness to the living. 

the devil (goddess) within; amphitrite & persephone

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Clara looked at Haven long and hard when he spoke, and as much as they hated to admit it - he did have a point. In their own twisted and fucked up way, the mortals thought they were defending myself. Even the mortals who had no knowledge of Greek Gods and their past lives - they knew that they were powerful and could very well destroy everything they held near and dear. In some ways Clara could empathize with them - they had felt that way about Bernard for all those years. That he had the ability to destroy their whole world if they tried to run away and get back home. “I know you don’t,” they murmured as they squeezed Haven’s shoulder in comfort. “But that doesn’t mean you should also sit back and let them dictate your life and the lives of your friends. Of your family.” 

As Haven asked them what they would do however, Clara gave it some thought. True, they didn’t exactly want to kill the mortals right off the bat. Not unless they tried to kill them first. “We could always give them a warning. We could let the mortals know that we shouldn’t be messed with unless they want to suffer some serious fucking consequences. You could throw a ball of fire so it goes right past their head and let them know you missed on purpose and I’ll wrap vines tightly around their torsos and let them know I can easily squeeze the life out them,” they said, eyes distant as they rambled. 

“We just need to show them we mean business and shouldn’t be fucked with. We don’t have to kill them.”

LET IT BURN; haven & clara

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There was a familiarity about the man that stood before them. Though, Clara had never seen him in their life - they couldn’t shake that they knew him somehow. Clara’s tired mind didn’t even want to think up theories about him being an incarnate and which God he could be. All Clara wanted was some damn peace and quiet. Which they had found in this church or chapel or whatever the fuck it was. They really didn’t care. It was quiet and that’s all that fucking mattered. Upon his question, Clara shook their head and gave him a shrug. “Just trying to find some quiet in the midst of all this chaos. You know. The normal day to day shit,” their voice dripped in sarcasm and they though perhaps they shouldn’t talk that way to a stranger. 

But they could care less. 

However, Clara’s eyes dropped down to look at his attire and realized he was apart of this church’s organization. Perhaps a priest or preacher or father or whatever the fuck he was. (Clara had never understood organized religion. It seemed ridiculous to them.) “Though, now that I think about it - if you could somehow pray to your silly god to stop this fucking riot that’d be great. I’m fucking tired of it,” they snapped. 

Part of Clara felt bad they were treating this stranger so poorly, but they figured he could handle it. After all he worked in a church (or whatever) Clara was certain he dealt with nastier folks in the past. Especially the ones who don’t exactly believe in the same god as himself. Religion is always a ridiculously touchy subject. 

It made Clara want to roll their eyes on a constant basis. 

SANCTUARY; clara & max

Be it may that his sister was correct, Max still had a large part of hi in denial about the other being inside of him. To believe he is a man of a God would make any other happy, but to Max, it only proved how wrong he was. That his whole life was a lie. So he tended not to believe everything that was happening. Most days, at least. 

He had watched as men and women grew sicker. One his way to the chapel, he had heard whispers of the family in the home down the street had all gotten a deadly disease. All but the children, of course. To be honest, he felt no guilt. No part of Max wished ill upon people, but he’ll be damned if he sheds a tear over those whom have contributed to this ridiculous riot.

Things were tense in the chapel. Everyone around him was wary of him, and the things he did. Sure, they have no proof that he is of the freaks, but his sister is, so he must be one as well. There were still some that believed he had been touched by God, and didn’t deserve the same fate as the rest. They still found ways to call his sister a freak to his face. That she was a descendant of the devil. Just a few days ago, he had snapped. An older gentleman had said something about Bea and Max blacked out. The next thing he knew, Father was clutching him, asking him if he was alright. No one ever spoke of the older man util word came that he had died of infection in the lungs. 

Max didn’t give a rats ass about what happened to him.

Since then, he’s kept quiet. Cleaning, stilling leading his Youth Group, cooking for the shelter. He spent a lot of time in crevices with his journal and pen, earbuds playing music as he ignored the world. It was just better that way.

It was long after a service, where he was certain everyone had gone, or at least migrated to another room. He was fixing everything in the chapel. Straightening the books and picking up the sheets of paper left around. While he streamed music into his ears, he managed to notice another figure. One that struck a sense in his body. Like a shot up his spine. He paused his music, and stepped to their line of vision, raising his eyebrows. “May I help you?” He asks quietly.

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DISHARMONY; clara & open

Clara stood in front of their flower shop - well Gina’s but this place had been their home away from home. The flowers they had spent so long caring over, tending to, and growing were all but ashes at their feet. It was a sad site to see and frankly it still made Clara angry. But, the riots were over and the mortals have crawled back under their rocks. It was quiet now. Almost too quiet. Clara wanted to laugh that eighteen of them could make a whole town fall to their knees. It made them feel powerful. 

( We are powerful. ) Persephone’s voice was faint in their head and Clara’s brow furrowed. Usually the Goddess was loud, almost abrasive in their head. As Clara bent down to pick up the shards of glass outside the shop doors, they heard someone’s foot crunch on the dead flowers that littered the sidewalk as well. “If you’re going to step on my dead flowers, the least you could do is help me pick them up,” they snapped at the unexpected guest as they stood up.

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Lisa Sorgini

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you are not soft. you weave flowers into nooses and wear the bones of the dead around your wrist. you are not human. (perhaps you once were, but no longer.) you bleed ichor and you smile and smile  and you kill. you are persephone, and you are both beauty and death.

“goddess of the underworld” by a.e.r