He was going to Tartarus. To speak with the Titans.

Hyacinth knew how dangerous it was, to trespass so freely in the Underworld, especially when Apollo was weakened, but on the other hand, he couldn't stop smiling- Apollo was no longer the miserable, moping figure that he had left behind. He was returning to his former self, albeit without his powers just yet, and that was cause enough for joy.

They would succeed. They would.

He gave a last glance to his room; Anicetus was not in his usual spot on the rug, having been chased to Gavriil's room so that the older boy would take care of him. Sometimes, he wondered if his adoptive family would know what he was someday- he kept disappearing without a thought, and they were increasingly angry and worried at him. Guilt chewed at him, but Apollo's life and death were of far more importance, and so he left for Hawaii, the vestiges of his room disappearing to make way for the cheery colours of Apollo's beach home.

To be honest, this virus wasn't all that bad. For one thing, it wouldn't be more than a few days, if previous viruses were to go by, and for another, Hyacinth had never been all too bothered by notions of masculinity. In Sparta, men and women alike were expected to be strong and independent, whether on the battlefield or at home. There wasn't all too much difference to the boy. Er. Girl.

She sat on the rail of the balcony overlooking the sea, one arm wrapped loosely around a pillar just in case she lost her balance. Despite her current feminine form, she was still dressed in her usual clothes- a shirt and jeans- and her slightly slouching posture was anything but ladylike.

Behind Hyacinth, Anicetus wagged his tail and thumped it on the floor; Hyacinth hadn't wanted to leave the precious Molussus dog that Apollo had somehow gotten for him while he was under a virus, and so he'd come along too.

Apollo wasn't on Olympus, much to Hyacinth's disappointment. He'd intended to surprise the god, and maybe drag him around to some other world to explore. There was no trace of him though; Hyacinth had walked around the mansion silently, to no avail. The place was empty of any living presence, save a few plants here and there.

Ah well. Maybe Apollo was in Hawaii. He would go there to take a look soon. Before that however, he went out to the gardens, where a majestic swan floated in the middle of a large pond. It came when Hyacinth beckoned, attracted by the torn bits and pieces of bread in his hands, and he smiled. Sometimes, he couldn't really believe Apollo when he said the swan was fond of it, but oh well. Maybe it merely had unusual ways of expressing its affection.

Bread gone, he dusted his hands, and looked towards the crystal mansion again, wondering if he should take another look before hopping to Hawaii.

This is a little belated, but.

I wish the Olympics had lasted a little longer... I guess all good things come to an end. And it was a little inconvenient, but I think I rather liked the animal virus--

Er.

... Tamaki? I hope I didn't offend you while you were a puppy. You were absolutely adorable though. Miss Haruhi, I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble by bringing Tamaki to Beijing.

[private, hackable]
I miss Chryses and Anatola. If they still had Molussus dogs, I would get one... But I suppose a retriever would be fine too.

I should start saving.

[It was the day of their lunch date. Brunch. Well, it was kind of closer to lunch, so Hyacinth supposed it was a lunch date. He poofed into Edgeworth's apartment, without any sort of noise or bright light to announce his arrival.]

... Edgeworth?

[Nope. No reply. Hyacinth grinned mischievously. Maybe he could walk around and explore a little, if Edgeworth was out. Surely he wouldn't mind.

He opened the door to a room, cautiously, just in case Edgeworth was in there.]

The first day I was sent to the agoge, an older boy told us that there wasn't any use in looking back. We were all soldiers in training now, no longer boys who could stay in the comfort of home.

I fear I've not listened much to that piece of advice, after I died. There is not a day that I do not look back, and wonder if things could have been different, if I might have died on a battlefield at the age of twenty-and-four or so, if my name might have been known as a soldier's, rather than a girl's. I look back and I see the wrestling matches, the races and the contests that are all part of a lost culture.

Most of all, I see friendships that have tried to be something else, and were broken instead.

That windchime is still at my window, no matter how many times I tell myself it should be taken down. There is no use for it, not in a room that still retains a vase of hyacinths and peach roses, and two bottles of potions that Apollo gifted to me.

I went to visit Cynortas in the Fields yesterday. We talked for a very long while. It was almost as if he were alive again, except that I could barely touch him, barely feel the warmth of his skin, if there was any warmth left. He said that I was thinking too much.

Maybe.

I turn to teasing others and light-hearted banter, to making substitutes of the friends I knew. It assuages the loneliness a little, but it's still there. I don't quite belong here, it seems, and it is partly my fault. I don't quite want to belong.

I do not wish to say farewell.

But one cannot wish for everything. Some friendships must go, in order to preserve others, and more important things besides.

I suppose it's really time for that windchime to go.

Well, that was the end of the day; for Hyacinth, at least. He wiped down the last of the tables, glad to see the lunch crowd leave the cafe. It'd certainly been crowded today, more so than the last few days, and a lack of staff currently didn't really help much.

He went back to the staff area, replacing the washed towel on the rack and changing into his regular clothes as he waved goodbye to his coworkers and exchanged a flirtatious though harmless smile with a pretty brunette who worked part-time as the cashier.

As he weaved his way out into the street, he just remembered in time to turn to the grocer's. Apollo had said he was coming; and so was Chrysilla. Hyacinth missed Apollo greatly, but at the same time, he was terribly interested to see how Chrysilla ate things that were at least as large as herself, especially without a mouth.

... Alphonse? I'm sorry. I did not mean all that. Were I actually sane in the past two days or so, none of those words would have come out of my mouth.

And... I don't remember all that I did, but if I have offended anyone, I'm truly sorry.

Screw that shit. If Apollo wants to sleep all over the place with blonds, that's none of my business anymore. Time after time after time, and I'm entirely sick of it. If he wants to play this game so goddamned badly, I'll fucking join him in it.

And the community is going batshit insane. Oh wait, it already was. And there's a fucking wuss there who's suddenly turned all masculine and denying his ridiculous attraction to some girl named Haruhi. This place is ridiculous, really.

Bre! Breloom! [agitated thumping of tail against wood] Bre loooom bre!

((Hyacinth's been hit too~ He's panicky and asking if anyone else has been turned into a Pokemon too.))

Eros' post reminds me of other songs related to spring.

( Such as this. )

Perhaps it's a little more morbid, but one can't deny it's amusing still.

Hyacinth stared out the plane window, the lunch on the tray before him entirely untouched. He hadn't eaten in hours, but the churning in his stomach didn't permit him to take even a bite. His thoughts were only on Apollo, and his mind kept conjuring bloody, horrible scenarios. The god had said he was fine, but Hyacinth just couldn't believe that. Couldn't.

The scream was too loud, too pained, too everything.

His fists tightened.

It seemed to take forever for the plane to land, and even longer before Hyacinth could leap up, grab his bag and stalk through the airport to snag a cab to Apollo's house in Hawaii. Even then, fate refused to co-operate, and Hyacinth stood at the stand for what seemed like ages before a taxi crawled near the airport.

But he got to the house at last, after hours of worrying and chewing at an abused fingernail. With a deep breath, he opened the door cautiously, terrified that he would find Apollo unconscious on the floor or worse.

... Zephyrus asked me to dinner tomorrow. Should I accept? He killed me after all, and my anger is still not fully assuaged.

But we were close once. Perhaps I should.

And I've been feeling odd all day; perhaps I should take the rest of the day off from work.

... Hah. Binding ties indeed.

He'd retreated to a river after the race that his companions had decided to hold that morning, too troubled by Zephyrus' confession to enjoy the company of his friends.

With a frustrated sigh, he kicked at a pebble, sending it flying into the water as he sat down on a rock at the river edge. How was he going to resolve this without pushing Zephyrus away? Evasion could only work for so long, and he knew Zephyrus well enough to know that the West Wind would demand a direct yes or no. Hyacinth couldn't say 'yes', and 'no' would drive the god away.

He picked up another pebble and hurled it into the river.

"Gods!"

OKAY. GUESS WHAT. APOLLO-MUN BUNNIED ME. Who in turn was apparently bunnied by me. Ehehe.

( Zephyrus and his jealousy, part tres )

Hahahaha, I shouldn't be writing such crap when I have a project due in seven hours. WhatthehellamIdoing. And also, ew at the stuff on Fictionpress. D: Why the hell is Hyacinth such a girl in them? He's the prince of a military nation if you follow the Sparta part of the legend. Military nation, emphasis on military.

( Drabble! Sort of. )


This totally does not reflect what Apollo-mun thinks. Because I've never spoken to her about this at all. |D;; So. Yeah. Vaguely DDD-verse? Ish? I don't know. |D;;; Also, pardon the language, I'll probably rewrite this when I have the time to; this was written only because I wanted a break from editing pictures and doing crappy silhouettes. =/