[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 7 most recent journal entries recorded in
|Wednesday, February 24th, 2021|
Filtered to Marcie
Your never going to fucking believe what happened today, babe.
|Sunday, January 31st, 2021|
|Texts to Marcie
Today 10:21 AM
Got training all afternoon but nothing at all to do tonight.
|Saturday, January 23rd, 2021|
Filtered to Marcie
[It feels like the minute Ares learns that Apollo's withdrawn his curse (his declaration of war) Tragos is summoned away from his position at Aphrodite's (at Marcie's side) and back to the grind of work. It's not quite to the minute, but regardless; when Marcie goes home, Tragos doesn't get to go with her. Instead, he's back to his days running messages and shoveling sand and standing guard and, on the good days, spending hours elbows deep in disemboweled cars. All the while trying not to let anyone see he's struggling to readjust his vision of the future. He put so much work into preparing himself for Marcie's death, he still can't fully believe the threat is gone.
He guts the car and thinks about cancer gutting her, fixes one engine and all he can think is Apollo, fixing Marcie. The next engine dies on him, but he can handle that; at least engines don't whimper in their sleep from the pain, clutching at his arm like he can save them.
He can save these cars, most of the time. Can bring an engine back to life. Maybe bodies aren't so different to engines if you're a god.
He tries not to think too hard about it. Best to concentrate on the task ahead of him. He manages it for a while, but once the last of the others leaves the garage he can't help but slip his phone out of his pocket and look through the photos Marcie's been buzzing his phone with all day. Photos of living, breathing Marcie, smiling mostly, though his favourite one is her biting the tip of her thumb and looking straight at the camera, and the message with it, promising what she's going to do to him next time she sees him.
Tonight, he promises, and then hears the heavy tread of steelcap boots on concrete as someone else walks into the garage. Tragos is on his back under a car and is able to shove his phone into his pocket, turning his head to look toward the sound. It's Lazarus, he recognises the boots immediately, and Tragos drags himself out from under the car because the boots are heading straight for him, and when Ares' second in command heads straight for you, you don't hesitate before you drop everything.
Laz looks down at him, assessing, and Tragos gets the feeling he's looking for softness from his time away. If he sees anything worth remarking on, he holds his tongue, and drops a passport down onto Tragos' stomach.
'Get up' Laz says, with a wide grin. 'Time to expand an empire'.]
Fuck, M, I'm sorry, can't come see you tonight. On my way home right now, gotta to sort something out with Kaden, grab some things, then Ares is sending us out of town on a job. Could be a while before I'm back.
I'm real sorry. Can't get you out of my mind. I want to see you so bad before I go but we have to be back here in a couple hours and s'not enough time. Fuck, that last pic you sent was hot, though.
|Tuesday, January 12th, 2021|
|Text to Marcie
Today 8:41 PM
Ares has me working security for Aphrodite's place. For the foreseeable.
|Sunday, December 20th, 2020|
| [It had been meant as a sarcastic comment. As Tragos bent over the ropes at the end of his match that night, struggling for breath and bleeding a river from his nose, Ares smacked him on the back (smacked him down against the ropes, forcing them to strain as they caught his weight) and laughed as he said something half-heard through the rush of blood in Tragos' ears, 'go see what she makes of you now.'
Tragos knew it was meant to mock, because his face and his body were both fucked up, a lasagna of bruises and cuts and scabs busted open. But it was also the closest thing to permission that Tragos felt he was ever going to get, and sarcasm or not, he was fucking taking it.
God he just wanted to sleep, though. He wanted a long and painfully hot shower on his muscles, wanted ice on his injuries, wanted to close his eyes and fucking vanish from the world.
We could all be fucking dead tomorrow, he thought later, leaning heavily up against a brick wall, sheltering from the cutting wind as he waited for a bus. We could all be fucking dead. Don't be a pussy. Sleep is for the weak.
It took him a long time to type out the message. The last fortnight weighted heavily on him, and the ice in the air didn't help.]
Today 10:38 PM
I know its late. Wanna visit?
|Sunday, December 13th, 2020|
|Text to Marcie - late at night
Today 11:41 PM
Current Mood: exhausted
I'm sorry, M, I'm not avoiding you. I have to work to make things right. Start before dawn, finish really late. Don't know when I'll be able to see you.
|Saturday, September 5th, 2020|
|Text to Marcie
Today 5:41 PM
That necklace Ares took from you, Melpomene got it back. If you want it I can bring it to you.
You got powerful people looking out for you.