#cause i took a bit of her line to priam for this

[adriles]

if the people of troy deem me the sole reason the danaan ships arrive on the anatolian shore for battle, absoluitely i would let them blame me. i myself wish i had chosen death rather than follow paris to this place, and now i will be one of few to survive what is to come

[neoptolemid]

Neoptolemus super doc ? ??

ARE WE ABSOLUTELY SURE,, , ,, ,

uh okay, I pull together my super document of Pyrrhus, have pardon cause it's a bit old and i'm gonna spread it through like 3 or 4 posts probably , , so uh enjoy and I'm sorry for all grammatical errors

Skyros

Pyrrhus was born by the name Pyrrhus and this was based either on his red hair or due to Achilles name of Skyros being Pyrrha.

When it comes to appearances I generally describe him as a good mix of both Deidamia and Achilles’ traits, having inherited Deidamia’s red hair and Achilles Blue/teal eyes. He is around the middle of both of his parent’s height as I make Achilles 6’0 and Deidamia 5’3 when full grown, Pyrhhus rounds out to be 5’6. He also has a number of beauty marks which are similar to Achilles’.

It is unknown how long Achilles stayed on Skyros or when Pyrrhus was born. Either way Achilles did know about his son, we know this from the fact Achilles makes references to his son within the Iliad and Odyssey.

I like to believe that part of Pyrrhus growing up with his mother and aunts is that he has a lot of appreciation for women’s crafts and what they do. That he as a younger child would simply sit and be by his mother and/or aunts as they worked enjoying their company.

He would try his best growing up to join into their songs and dances, and at least once dressed himself in girls clothes to show his mother and aunts which got a good laugh out of them.

From Quintus ‘Fall of Troy’ we are informed that learning to fight and it was Odysseus and Diomedes who came with their black sails to ask him to join the war cause. He was promised to marry Menelaus’s daughter Hermione, he was also promised to have Achilles’ armor and gold, riches, and glory for coming with them.

While work will generally age him to being a young man or simply portray him to be very well spoken, if you follow along with the time line it is very possible that Pyrrhus is only 11 or 12 when he leaves Skyros, I tend to write him as being 13 for my own comfort.

Another thing to note form Quintus’s piece on Pyrrhus is they depict this being especially sad for Deidamia, she is written as having weeped and weeped. She doesn’t want him to leave because she doesn’t want him going to war and leaving her. She doesn’t want him hurt and she doesn’t want another person she loves leaving her again.

Deidamia Pyrrhus’s mother is written as loving him and I interpret bits of this story as Pyrrhus is the only tie to Achilles she has. Generally I prefer the idea that Deidamia did care for Achilles and so it did break her heart that he left and she had hoped that he would return eventually to her and their son.

Over the years she understood more and more that he would not return, so all she had was her son, and then eventually they come and take him from her as well.

Mattering on the version of the story, it is fully possible that Deidamia may have never seen her son again once he left the island.

Dawn climbed the wide-arched heaven, straightway they rose from their beds. Then Deidameia knew; and on her son's broad breast she cast herself, and bitterly wailed: her cry thrilled through the air, as when a cow loud-lowing mid the hills seeks through the glens her calf, and all around Echo long ridges of the mountain-steep; so on all sides from dim recesses rang the hall; and in her misery she cried: "Child, wherefore is thy soul now on the wing to follow strangers unto Ilium the fount of tears, where perish many in fight, yea, cunning men in war and battle grim? And thou art but a youth, and hast not learnt the ways of war, which save men in the day of peril. Hearken thou to me, abide here in thine home, lest evil tidings come from Troy unto my ears, that thou in fight hast perished; for mine heart saith, never thou hitherward shalt from battle-toil return. Not even thy sire escaped the doom of death -- he, mightier than thou, mightier than all heroes on earth, yea, and a Goddess' son -- but was in battle slain, all through the wiles and crafty counsels of these very men who now to woeful war be kindling thee. Therefore mine heart is full of shuddering fear lest, son, my lot should be to live bereaved of thee, and to endure dishonour and pain, for never heavier blow on woman falls than when her lord hath perished, and her sons die also, and her house is left to her desolate. Straightway evil men remove her landmarks, yea, and rob her of her all, setting the right at naught. There is no lot more woeful and more helpless than is hers who is left a widow in a desolate home."

Lemnos

Pyrrhus agrees to go with them and on the way they stop by the island of Lemnos to get Philoctetes. Odysseus makes Neoptolemus lie to Philoctetes because he knows that he hates Odysseus because he is the man who abandoned him on Lemnos and he knows that Philoctetes doesn’t want to go to Troy but back to Greece and to his home.

This causes a Pyrrhus strife because he has been taught to be noble up until now, in the play Philoctetes by Sophocles we are shown multiple times how this causes him strife because he is having to lie. Philoctetes also considers Pyrrhus to be a friend because Pyrrhus lies and says that he wants to go back home to Skyros because of the way he is treated by the other Greeks even though he hasn’t met any of them yet to our knowledge.

Good lines from this play that I personally characterize him are

‘It would have been better if i had never left scyros. Everything around me oppresses me ..’

‘He’ll (odysseus) claim i’m too soft-hearted’

‘I can’t. It is right and in our interest to listen to those in authority’

Some of the best development to see from this is how he was raised to be noble and how he doesn’t want to trick people or lie, he wants to be honest.

Another thing I find interesting to read from specifically this play is how Pyrrhus is very rarely called by his own name, he is almost always referred to ‘son of achilles’ and also in this play he is often referred to as ‘child’ or ‘boy’.

While none of these things are brought up as an issue in the play I do think it is a detail you can play with, like how it might weigh on an individual to be always referred to by your famous father or how people don’t recognize you by your name but by your father’s.

I think these are things that would weigh on Pyrrhus he wants to live up to his father but it also oppresses him to be referred in such a way. He wants to be like his father but he is still his own individual which he doesn’t feel recognized by as people continually anything but his own name.

To the idea of playing into the fact he is also often called ‘boy’ or ‘child’ These could be names that eventually upset and anger him. He is being dragged into this war like he is old enough to fight, which he is not and yet he is not recognized as such by those around him.

It is a case of a child feeling indignatinge by being called terms which denote being naive, though I like to think there is some justification for his anger because this isn’t just a small thing but he is being taken into a man's world.

In Philoctetes he is referred to by the name Neoptolemus, he was given this name by Phoenix, a man also considered to be a father by Achilles. Phoenix is one of the oldest men in the Trojan war and he is either involved with Pyrrhus coming from the island to Skyros to the war or some time later down the road. He gave him this name because it means ‘new war/warrior’ it is meant to reflect how Achilles himself was a young man when he entered the war.

It is honestly more common to see Pyrrhus referred to as Neoptolemus by the Greeks and Pyrrhus by Roman sources to my knowledge. (i’ll be using Pyrrhus just for simplicity)

Troy

There are a lot of various stories that have to do with the fall of Troy, we have records again from Quintus “Fall of Troy” and the “Aeneid” by Vergil. There are also a number of plays by the three tragedians of Ancient Greece(Sophocles, Euripides, Aeschylus) that have to do with the end of the war and various stories of the aftermath.

While Pyrrhus doesn’t appear in these very often they still help to give more insight to his possible character.

Pyrrhus makes a minor appearance within the play of ‘hecuba’ and is in the background of ‘andromache’, he makes no appearance within this story but he is directly related to things happening in the play.

Back onto the subject of the fall of Troy, he is regarded as the killer of both Astyanax and Priam. These are generally agreed upon details and sometimes Odysseus fills the role of Pyrrhus when the story decides they don’t want to introduce more characters.

He is generally described as being ‘battle-eager’ ‘Fierce-hearted’ and a few other epithets relating to fighting. In general he is not described as being worse than anyone else. The fall of Troy is a greek work and all the Greeks within this work are killing and fighting people. He is by all means a competent fighter within the text.

In the Odyssey when Odysseus goes into the underworld and speaks with the dead, and when Achilles comes to speak he asks about his son.

Odysseus describes him as

‘but I can tell you all about your son Neoptolemus, for I took him in my own ship from Scyros with the Achaeans. In our councils of war before Troy he was always first to speak, and his judgement was unerring. Nestor and I were the only two who could surpass him; and when it came to fighting on the plain of Troy, he would never remain with the body of his men, but would dash on far in front, foremost of them all in valour. Many a man did he kill in battle- I cannot name every single one of those whom he slew while fighting on the side of the Argives, but will only say how he killed that valiant hero Eurypylus son of Telephus, who was the handsomest man I ever saw except Memnon; many others also of the Ceteians fell around him by reason of a woman's bribes. Moreover, when all the bravest of the Argives went inside the horse that Epeus had made, and it was left to me to settle when we should either open the door of our ambuscade, or close it, though all the other leaders and chief men among the Danaans were drying their eyes and quaking in every limb, I never once saw him turn pale nor wipe a tear from his cheek; he was all the time urging me to break out from the horse- grasping the handle of his sword and his bronze-shod spear, and breathing fury against the foe. Yet when we had sacked the city of Priam he got his handsome share of the prize money and went on board (such is the fortune of war) without a wound upon him, neither from a thrown spear nor in close combat, for the rage of Mars is a matter of great chance.'

In general from the greek sources he is described as nobly.

He is noted for killing quite a few people during the fall of Troy but his most notable kills are Priam, who he kills within the throne room (to my knowledge) and Astyanax who is killed after Troy has fallen.

In the Aeneid by Vergil he is described in ways that frame him a more villainous or evil way

‘The fatal work inhuman Pyrrhus plies,’

During when Pyrrhus is about to kill Priam there is a line that I believe characterizes him as more of a tragic character than anything else. Before killing Priam, Priam berates him about how Pyrrhus is about to treat Priam because of how Achilles showed him humanity and how Achilles gives Priam his son’s body back. This is partly brung up because Pyrrhus getting into the throne room kills one of Priam’s sons in front of his face.

The line basically translates out to be Pyrrhus telling Priam that when he dies and sees his father to tell him of the terrible deed of his son, of how terrible his son is.

In the translation that I read they use the line ‘Tell him of degenerate Neoptolemus’

When in the context of the Philoctetes I think this paints Pyrrhus as being a rather tragic and sad character, because prior to going to the island of Lemnos Pyrrhus tried to act most noble, he wants to be noble like his father. When on Lemnos he has his morals questioned and is forced to go against his morales at the hand of Odysseus.

I interpret this as him vocalizing how he might be upset with himself as he is forced to look at the reality of war which isn’t noble or glorious at all. He wants to live up to the noble idea of his father and everything he is forced to do makes him feel terrible.

I personally think that Pyrrhus probably doesn’t know a lot about the terrible things that Achilles has done or he tries to ignore them. When fighting in the war he might realize his idea of his father might not truly be acturte, he was raised on stories from his mother telling him of his outstanding father.

In terms of justifying his actions during the war because going off my own headcanon he probably wouldn’t be so interested in killing so many people, I imagine he kinda just turns off his head and acts purely on his emotions and just acts like that of a soldier. (Is this PTSD?)

He follows the orders given to him and acts without questioning and lets all his emotions out. I personally don’t assign Pyrrhus that much pride but I like to think he inherited some of his fathers famous anger. All of his anger at what he is being forced to do comes out when he is forced to fight.

That is where the brutality of his portrayal within the Aeneid comes from.

[streets-in-paradise]

Fictional Sibling relationships i live for

I had been thinking about this topic lately and decided i would like to make a post about it because it is a very fun and interesting one for me. I had mentioned a few times here that in terms of fandom involvement i am more invested in family and frienships than in shippings, particulary i have a fixation with strong sibling bonds or sibling like friendships. I think it must be because i have a strong bond with my younger sister, i identify with that and that’s why i tend to get more involved and interested in this sort of character interactions. 

I will keep this just in movies, movie adaptations of books and tv shows because i don’t want it to be super long but still want to talk. In movie adaptations i will try to stay in movie’s territory as much as i can, if i add commentary on the book versions this would never end but i may slip a bit towards it because i can’t help it. 

As always, i make the disclaimer over the images i will use here, they belong to the sites where i found them.  

Sorry for my pathetic language skills in english. 

Note: this got so long that i will probably make a second part for more characters i coulnd’t include 

Boromir and Faramir in lotr 

Lotr is full of great material for people who, like me, obsess over families. Frodo and Bilbo, Merry and Pippin, Elrond and Arwen, Theoden ,Eowyn and Eomer are other great examples of family relationships i’m interested on from here ( i pretty much love to overthink stuff about almost all the lotr family relationships). I choose to talk about this bros because they have a particular place in my heart. How many times we had seen the common trope of a royal or noble family where the father is a dick who gives all his love and attention to the older brother, neglects the little one causing him to grow up resentfull and ending up as a villian while dad’s favourite is the hero of the tale? Not this time, and it is so refreshing. 

Boromir and Faramir choose each other over their father’s bullshit, you can see it in the lovely deleted scene the gif up here comes from. When Denethor shows up they are both annoyed, when he is mean to Faramir Boromir calls him out and tries so hard to make him show some appreciation for his youngest son. it is clear that, in this version, Boromir is more family to Faramir than his father ever was. I love how much they care for each other, how they pass beyond the differences. Boromir is a super amazing big bro, i love how he protects Faramir and is there for him instead of letting his father’s praise get in between. I could talk for hours about this two because i love them so much. I’m doing a hard effort in stopping myself from throwing a whole set of headcanons i have for them so i will stop now before i get too excited. 

Fili and Kili in The Hobbit

Staying in Middle Earth for one more mention i had to talk about this two. Being fully honest, the movies broke my heart because they took the exact opposite way i would had wished for. When they were introduced In An Unexpected Journey this two adorable brothers were one of my favourite aspects of it because i loved their Merry and Pippin like dumb chaotic energy. One of my biggest complains with the Hobbit adaptation is to have shifted the narrative of the strongly family focused story arc of the Line of Durin. Kili’s romance with Tauriel shifted the focus and, in my particular perspective, i hated that because i was already super involved in the family story. Besides from the “I belong with my brother”  iconic line we don’t see much more of Fili and Kili’s bond after the introduction of Tauriel. In fact, Fili loses a lot of his initial screentime in Desolation of Smaug and Battle of the Five Armies.

 I love this two, the relationship with their uncle as it was introduced in the first film and i would had loved to see more of their family dinamic explored. One of my biggest complains, besides from the change of focus on their supposed ending, is that i’m convinced that they should had entered the mountain with the rest of the company. It is such an important moment they would probably waited for since they were children, is the legacy of their family. In short terms, i love them and i would had loved to keep seeing future developments of the Line of Durin story they had in AUJ. 

Hector and Paris in Troy 

This two represent the opposite case. The relationship they have in this movie is very different from the source material but i love the great development it has here. It is outstanding to see the importance the sibling bond has in a movie that is supposed to be about a war caused by a romantic passion. 

The sons of King Priam are absolute opposites. Hector is the embodiment of a true hero, a Steve Rogers of ancient times. His strong caring nature and will to protect everyone reminds me of Boromir as well. Unlike Faramir,Paris is a freaking mess. He is the careless, adventurous and reckless little brother Hector ends up protecting every single time he gets into trouble. I had stated before that i think Paris is a selfish prick but i think that is a slight confussion of mine with the original. This Paris is more a reckless dumbass and, unlike Iliad Paris, his arc in the movie it’s a bit more simpathetic. In this version Helen is trapped in a loveless marriage to an old prick who treats her like trash (in the director’s cut Menelaus jokes about how he only cares for his wife for breeding purposes on a conversation with Hector). I can understand at some point that, if he trully fell in love with her, he felt horrible for letting her stay there as a prisoner of her husband. Going back to the my focus for this talk, i like that the movie had decided to make this two close brothers who actually care for each other despite being absolute opposites instead of two guys who barely know each other, are barely aware of being brothers and share only hatefull interactions. 

Hector’s protectiveness over Paris warms my heart. He had threated him a few times ( director’s cut has the “ i will rip off your pretty face from your pretty skull” excharge. I love that scene), he gets furious at him for his foolishness, they argue but when the time comes he always chooses to protect him. Honestly, that’s such a big bro thing, i can’t help to feel identified. The weight that this relationship has in the development of the story is a surprising thing and it makes everything more tragic. Paris being the killer of Achilles has a more significant meaning because, now it’s not just the irony of the weakest character killing the strongest. Paris is aware that he owns the memory of his fallen brother so much, he wants revenge. Hector was there for him all his life, the least he can do for him is to kill his killer and avenge his death. Briseis begs him to stop but he can’t let himself do that, he owns it to Hector and that debt is bigger than anything. 

I will not delay this any longer, the family relationships on this movie are my favourite aspect of it and i have a soft spot for the bond between the trojan princes. Don’t get surprised if i one of this days i end up making an entire separate post talking about the family dinamics displayed in the film (same goes for lotr but that would take me ages and i would have to make an entire series of posts if i wanted to discuss every lotr family relationship i would want to talk about). 

Sam and Dean Winchester in Supernatural 

If you reached this point you may had noticed that i have a big thing with family tragedies involving siblings. Supernatural is my favourite show because it combines lots of elements i love. To mention just a few: horror, mythology,classic rock and a strong family approach in its pretty tragic but outstanding plot. 

Sam and Dean are one of my favourite duo of bros of all time. I don’t think i have a lot to say about them because their relationship has been analized lots of times by the very big fanbase of the show. My main difference with the common interpretation is that i don’t see the Winchester family in a similar way to the movie versions of the Steward of Gondor and his sons, which means i don’t think John has been the shittiest father ever despite his many mistakes. Unlike movie Denethor he tried hard and in the interactions we saw of him with his boys he actually cares for both of them. 

This bros were the ones that made me realize in an actual concient way of my tendency to get too attached to families, story arcs regarding them and sibling love. I’m super attached to this story, i don’t know what the hell i’m going to do with my life once it ends. 

I will end this post here. It is more than sure that there would be a part two because i have tons of more brothers,sisters and other family relationships to talk about. 

Thanks to everyone who has read my very long ramble 

[spidersmiceandeverythingnice]

Been sitting on this for awhile, I think it still needs some polishing and I haven’t settled on my design ideas yet (I need to pick a face-claim/potential VA/figure out some armor references if I want to draw him) but ya know what I think we need? Some more Greek heroes. I love me some Greek heroes. Here’s a Memnon profile for ya:

MEMNON PROFILE

5*

Rider (B/AAA/Q)

Origin: Greek Mythology / Africa

Brynhildr’s Beloved / Sky / Lawful Good / Greek Mythology Male

Passive Skills:

Divinity B

Affection of the Goddess

Riding B

Active Skills:

General’s Honor – Increases party’s attack, star generation, and NP damage (three turns).

-          When introduced to King Priam, the leader of Troy loudly proclaimed that Memnon will be their savior. Memnon merely smiled, and said that his strength would be obvious on the battlefield, but it would be impolite to boast at dinner. A mighty general who was admired by all his men and feared by all his enemies.

Affection of the Divine (A) – Grants guts to self (one time, five turns), raises attack and defense and apply ignore invincible (three turns).

-          Raised by nymphs at the shores of Okeanos, doted on by his divine mother, admired by Zeus and Hephaestus for his combat prowess. Rarely has a man ever walked the Earth who has been so blessed.

Proof of Immortality (B) – Charges NP gauge (20-50 percent), gains critical stars (10-30), gain de-buff immunity (one time, three turns).

-          Though his story is lost, the mark of his legend is felt across the world. It is said that his blood gathered in a river upon his death, and every year on the anniversary of his slaying, the river smells of blood. Memnon, unlike Achilles, does not draw power when he is present in his homeland, as his tale is lost to history. However, he can draw on this power instead, a manifestation of proof that he lived and was considered a hero.

Noble Phantasm: Chariot of the Rising Dawn. (Buster). Chance to inflict burn (apples to all enemies), deal heavy damage to a single enemy. Apply Burning Field to the surroundings after taking effect.

-          Invokes the protection and power of his mother, Eos, the primordial dawn goddess. Memnon has access to her chariot, which is pulled by two horses, Firebright and Daybright. Setting a trail of fire and sparks, he charges towards the enemy, leaving chaos in his wake.

-          Because Memnon prefers single combat and dueling, this works as a Single Target Noble Phantasm. The burn, however, is applied to all targets.

 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Introduction: The hero always arrives at the last minute… or, so they say. I am Rider, Memnon. Please allow me to serve as your defender.

Profile One: The rival of Achilles, who was summoned from Aethiopia after Hektor’s death to participate in the defense of Troy. The son of a primordial dawn goddess, a humble and great leader who inspired countless men. His tale is lost to history with all but a few fragments remaining, so much of his life is a mystery.

Line One: If you wish to rest, please do so mindfully. The battle will begin again when the sun rises.

Line Two: The relationship of a Master and a Servant is simple enough to understand. I was a general, so the chain of command is nothing new.

Line Three: You are still young. Please allow me to advise you in combat. If necessary, I shall take the lead myself. Leave everything to me.

Likes: Hmm… I suppose my hobbies are making music and gardening. Why, is that strange? I was raised by nymphs, you know.

Dislikes: Things that I hate… I’d have to think about it. I’m sure that there are things I dislike but nothing comes immediately to mind.

Holy Grail: A wish-granting device is certainly interesting. Would it be selfish to…? Never mind. I’ll have to think about what I could wish for.

Event: A new battle begins. Remember your obligations!

Birthday: The day of your birth is cause for celebration. May the gods bless you on this day/

Character Interactions:

Penthesilea: Ah, the Queen of the Amazons. It was a great honor to serve alongside her. Her prowess in battle is like none I’d ever seen. She’s really amazing. You know, she used to wear a decorated helmet that obscured her face… well, when it came off in the middle of combat, Achilles stopped what he was doing and just stood there! She nearly took off his head! Can you imagine, the great Achean, standing there looking like…? [clears throat] I mean, of course, I’m glad I got to witness such a glorious exchange. A battle between two warriors of that caliber is a rare thing.

Hektor: Hektor. It is a shame that we never met in life! I’m honored to be fight alongside – oh, no thank you. I don’t smoke.

Paris: … I’m a bit worried. They say Apollo is a great god, but this is…

Artemis: Ah, the goddess of the moon! My mother spoke of you often. I am truly blessed to meet you. Strangely… you remind me of… Oh, never mind.

Achilles: Yes, I remember him quite well. I don’t have any grudges. Zeus blessed our battle, and it was an exhilarating fight. I’m honored to have been able to cross blades with someone like him. Though… I do wonder if it’s alright to speak to him. I suppose, in his position, it’s possible… Perhaps if I offered to duel him once again, he would forgive me! Yes, I shall do that.

Queen of Sheba: I have traveled through many lands, but there is something about you that is familiar. Please tell me more about your kingdom – I would like to hear of it, even though we were not alive in the same era. Hmm? What do you mean, knowledge costs extra? Is this some kind of border tax?

Iskandar: You want to hear about Okeanos? I’m happy to tell you - but I’m afraid it’s not very exciting. I was raised there, you see, so a lot of my stories involve me doing chores and... oh? You still want to know? Very well.

Scheherazade: A woman who collects stories. I wonder... Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing. Never mind.

Nordic Heroes: They seem to be looking at me. I wonder – do they know something about me that I don’t? Is there something on my face?”

Profile Two / Bond One: “Are you comfortable? How may I assist you?”

The story goes that after Hektor’s death, King Priam of Troy summoned an army from a distant land. Alongside the Queen of the Amazons, Penthesilea, Memnon sailed to Troy from Aethiopia, to defend the besieged city from the wrath of Achilles.

Profile Three / Bond Two: “A lost hero, you say…? Well, it can’t be helped. “

Where Hektor was Achilles’s great enemy, it’s more accurate to say that Memnon was his rival. Memnon was also the son of a goddess, and had many powers that made him equal Achilles in combat. The Greeks feared him and his army. However…

Profile Four / Bond Three: “Yes, my mother is the goddess of the dawn. I even had relatives in the royal family at Troy, but I was raised by the Hesperides on the shores of Okeanos. Yes, it’s a real place. I’m serious. Perhaps one day, you will be able to reach it.”

Zeus was impressed by Achilles’s strength, but also favored Memnon. It is said that he blessed their battle, making them tireless, and the god of the forge, Hephaestus, had also given both of the heroes indestructible armor.

The written text of this story is lost, except for all but a few sentence fragments. The glorious final battle of Troy faded into myth, and then nothingness. Though many writers carried on describing Memnon’s legacy and fame, his shining hour was eclipsed by time.

Profile Five / Bond Four: “I was given many blessings from the gods. I would not say I have any regrets about how I lived my life. After all, if there is even one person who remembers that I lived…”

After the death of Achilles’s most beloved partner, Patroclus, the hero was inconsolable, and it seemed that he would lose the will to fight. However, Antilochos - the youth who cared for his horses and occasionally helped Achilles steer his chariot in combat - cheered him up and convinced him to continue living. Later, during a battle, Memnon struck Antilochos down, forcing the hero of the Acheans to grieve yet another loved one.

Profile Six / Bond Five: “I would like to tell you a story. It’s a great tale about a man who travels the world from end to end. Would you care for tea? It’s a bit long, so we may be here for awhile.”

Not long after Memnon’s death, the Trojan War ended, and a new tale began. It’s said that his mother wept inconsolably at her son’s death, and so Zeus granted Memnon immortality.

The ancient world of Northern Africa was said to have many statues of Memnon, marking the places where he had stayed or traveled to. These too are now lost.

However, despite all odds, the enduring soul of Memnon remains alive in human memory. It is for this reason that he can be called from the Throne of Heroes.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Personal Notes:

He’s BAAAQ with a single target buster because I wanted him to stand out from other Five Star Riders, basically, and the weird mechanic thing with burns is just something I think would be Neat because again I have no clue how a lot of the funky mini-mechanical technic-stuff works in FGO even after a year of playing. But like, if Space Ishtar can change her NP Card-type, then Memnon can have a single target NP that de-buffs all enemies.

So basically, he’s one of Penthesilea’s allies/an ally of Troy. He and Penth terrify the Greeks, at first Achilles is distracted by the hot new Amazon and his cute new rebound boy (I’m not a fan of Antilochos just like, on principle because this is a Patrolcus stanning household, but oh well), but then he eventually gets his act together and while he defeats Penth, Memnon winds up killing Antilochos. This leads Achilles to going on another rampage, and slays Memnon in the process. And after this, Paris (a known fool and idiot) finally asks Apollo for help in killing Achilles, leading to the end of the Trojan war.

There seems to be sources about Memnon that show he was well-known in the ancient world as a mythological figure (writers such as Herodotus reference him in their works/tales about Africa and he was probably memorialized in statues in various temples) but the primary text (the lost epic detailing the end of the Trojan War: Aethiopis) is basically gone. Which is a shame, because he’s a fascinating character - a true foil to Achilles in almost every way.

So basically, IT’S FREE REAL ESTATE.

Obviously because I’ve been deep in Achilles Loving Hell, I’ve been deep-diving into the lore, and even though there isn’t a lot to go on, the things I do find are rich and juicy. I imagine Memnon to be a bit older and wiser than Achilles (probably has a beard tbh, but not like a bushy beard) and a bit more relaxed. The guy was raised by nymphs and was basically nice to everyone, so it seemed. Memnon is not the type to go berserk in combat, but he also doesn’t hold back when it comes to beating your ass. There’s a sweet spot between Hektor “I Suppress All Emotions and Only Strategize” style of fighting and Achilles “I Am Strong and Fast and Have a Lot of Feelings so Fuck You” style of fighting, and Memnon is probably riiiight in there, crunching on some golden apples that his mom gave him for a snack.

(There’s also apparently a weird and funky piece of very obscure and maybe fake lore which states that Memnon might related by blood to Thor, which idk how true that is but I think it’d be hilarious to include.)

[mermaidmafia-official]

{Part One: Lucie Blacknall}

- Hiraeth -

Given the distance from my destination, days of travel by train left me with too much time alone with my thoughts. Staring listlessly out the windows as trees and vistas passed by, my mind wandered, having discarded the book I picked up at the first station. Oscillating between guilt over abandoning Soledad in the abandoned apartment block in an old part of the city I just escaped and guilt over leaving my sister years ago. I was developing a bad pattern of disappearing on people who relied on me.

I tried to tell myself that leaving Soledad was what was best for her, and I did truly believe that. She wasn't cut for the life of a vagrant: the daughter of upper class political moguls who had no time for her, causing her to act out in such ways as escaping her family's estate by way of blackmailing a thief she had discovered was pilfering her mother's personal pharmacy. I hadn't been overly pleased about being found out, and much less so about being blackmailed into bringing someone ill-prepared for a life of vagrancy ... but it had more appeal than a jail cell. She was used to being waited on, having everything there for her, and lounging by the pool all day - never had she gone without a meal, had to run for her life. More to the point, she was hopelessly clumsy at nicking things. Eventually, she was sated with lounging in my questionable abode while testing any and all substances I managed to bring back for selling, which was helpful but only just. She did have other ... skills that were much to my liking (as well as her own), but that was more of a perk of being blackmailed into keeping her.

But it wasn't enough to keep me around.

The moment a little bald man managed to find me (how he ever did, I will never know I'm sure - it seemed almost supernatural) and present me with a envelope detailing a relation and an inheritance I had no idea existed, I was partially out the door.

I did feel bad for taking advantage of Soledad's near state of a constant high by telling her I was running to the shops. She muzzily asked me to join her in bed. Brushing off her weak hands, I planted a light kiss on her head, shouldered my rucksack, and left. I had tucked a note into her jacket before leaving as a goodbye - mostly to save face in pretending that it pained me terribly to be away from her despite our shared, er, lust - and maybe felt even worse about calling the tip line set up by her "concerned" parents regarding her whereabouts. Boarding the first train, I imagined black cars converging on the old apartment block, spilling out well-tanned and toned men in dark suits and sunglasses, and rushing the stairs to find her dozing peacefully.

It seemed like the right thing to do.

Days later found me walking into a coastal village on the tip of god knows where from a bus stop a kilometre or two outside the village proper. I didn't mind the walk, but spending so much time alone in my own head was starting to wear on me, both physically and emotionally. I had successfully chewed away the skin around both thumbs and had made a start on my fingers by the time the bus rolled up to the weathered shelter. No one else got off and no one got on as I stepped off to find the number for a taxi that, once called for, never came.

Luckily, I didn't have to go much further when I located the pub. Like all pubs in small towns, it was filled with slightly grizzled but hardy looking older men and women having their customary evening drink and social. They all stopped and turned to stare as I walked in, my hair flapping like a frizzy pennant in a sudden gust that had come up, pushing me slightly into the warmth of the local den. I plopped down on a stool, dumping my rucksack on the floor as the publican - a willow of a woman with shockingly pale hair - appeared to take my order.

I should have known better but I was craving a dark stout and ordered as such. My nerves were beginning to take over, but I tried my best to ignore them as my stomach churned, hoping the drink would offer some ease.

I was very, very wrong.

The publican asked a few questions as I began to drink, but before I could give up an answer that might satisfy the locals, my stomach heaved in protest. I rushed into the women's, clanged open a stall, and fell to my knees like a repentant sinner before emptying the contents of my stomach into the porcelain bowl before me. Reeling back, I wipe a shaky hand across my mouth, unable to stand for a few moments. Pressing my back to the stall wall, I squeezed my tight trying to ignore the sour taste in my mouth or the sluggish churning of my stomach.

Maybe this was a mistake.

I had no right to reappear like this into Luna's life. Had no right to claim whatever Blacknall inheritance there might have been in my true name. I wasn't her anymore ... at least I didn't feel like I was.

Several minutes and another downpour from my insides later, I walked out of the bogs shakily, face and hair damp from hastily splashed tap water. I slumped back into my stool, eyes downcast as I huddled closer to my half finished stout not wanting to finish it wishing desperately that I had taken a booth instead of boldly sitting at the counter.

A glass of water appeared before me with a dull thud. I looked up to see the publican waiting almost patiently before reaching slowly to take my unfinished beer away and sliding the water into its place before me.

"Drink," she commanded, turning away to attend the other patrons. Tentatively and obediently, I took a sip, savouring the feeling of the cold, clear water washing the sour taste away and back down where it belonged. Greedily I gulped down the rest of it.

"Did Mr. Thwart not show you the way proper?" came a voice from behind me. I turned out of interest, but realized an older man was looking at me curiously. "That little ras - oh, er sorry you're not ... Miss Blacknall," he trailed off.

Luna was already here. Of course. My stomach churned its nothingness - I would have to arrive tail between my legs. Not that I imagined it any other way, but this confirmed it.

I offered a weak smile. "Miss Blacknall in a sense," I replied, the name feeling strange to hear myself say after so long. "You must have met my sister, I'm guessing." The man looked a little relieved to hear this, relaxing slightly. He looked as if to say something else, but the woman behind the counter got there before he did.

"You're a Blacknall as well then?" I turned back to look at her.

"More common than I thought," I tried to joke but the publican barely tweaked a smile. Instead, she looked me over, as if trying to assess my status based on my recent inheritance. "You'll be wanting to get to the cottage before dark," she stated, eyes unreadable. "Priam, will you take the girl?" she asked, addressing the man beyond my shoulder. His expression mixed between wanting to help and a nervousness that I couldn't make sense of - maybe he was afraid of the dark? Places like these often clung to old mothers' stories about the fair folk and other bogeymen.

"That's all right," I piped up, feeling braver than I felt, "I don't mind a late night walk. Just set me in the right direction and I'll get myself there." I grinned broadly, trying to appear as convincing as possible. "You've already delivered my sister safe, so that as much I thank you for and couldn't possible ask of more now that it's getting late."

The old man's face flushed a bit red as he glanced from me to the woman behind me, a look of shame and embarrassment coming over him. She shook her head in a manner that indicated how foolhardy she clearly thought I was, but the gentleman slunk off to join others around a table, visibly shrinking before throwing guilty look my way.

A curious lot, these locals, I thought. I was used to finding my way and taking care of myself - a little night time stroll was hardly enough to scare me off.

In the time it took me to pluck up both my courage and rucksack, the publican had stretched out a length of string, snipped it with a pair of ancient scissors, and began twisting it into several knots.

"You'll be needing this," she said, finishing the last knot before holding it out to me. I looked at the string - the type used for typing up parcels - and looked at her, the cynic in me taking over momentarily. Her eyes gazed back intensely, indicating that it would probably be best for me to take it without question.

"Erm ... thanks," I replied, holding it awkwardly.

"Keep it on you."

I waved her off dismissively, trying to get out of the pub as quickly as possible and to remove myself from the events that had taken an undoubtedly strange turn. I strolled down the high street, glad to be putting distance between myself and the pub, and enjoying the fresh sea air being blown in as the dark clouds above heralded an incoming storm. My steps faltered a little upon realizing I hadn't gotten any directions to the cottage I was meant to go to, but at the edge of the town I could see, highlighted by the moon, the caisteal in the distance sitting precariously upon a cliff's edge. Easy enough to find.

Casting off the odd bit of string for birds to use, I made my way, pushing against a sense of foreboding and the desire to run away in fear of an awkward reunion and forgiveness that would need to be sought.

I wouldn't be the slightest bit surprised if Luna even let me in. It would probably serve me right to have to sleep on the cottage steps.