❨ black hole sun | bea&hades ❩

[eulalie blake 1a 🍒 tris]

bea.

Weeks of preparation have passed her by, three days of death and a fourth of peace — all of it has come and gone in a blur of coding and bloodshed. Beatrix Alfray has not yet grown comfortable with her newfound divinity, with her crown of dying stars and the mountain peaks that have risen beneath her fingertips. All of it burns and cuts and destroys, like calloused hands around the stem of a dying flower. Like what it means to suffocate.

( She is the bleached white skull of something that was once sacred;
nothing kind will ever grow from the marrow of her memories. )

The light in the GM headquarters has a red glow to it. Nothing more than a faint blush of color, but still enough to highlight Bea’s surroundings with shadows of scarlet. She has found it has a way of soaking up all the emotions under its gaze, bleeding them out and only leaving numbness as a reminder — of what it means to sell your soul, of her purpose in this grand and terrible game. She tries not to stand in that crimson spotlight for too long.

Solace is found in the pale sunlight that shines through her office window, in the moments of quiet that she can be afforded. She prefers to occupy her time with working, failing to socialise with her companions as much as she should. Zaya is too sharp, and Josie is too bright — confidence flows from them in a way that shakes her to her core, that makes her duck head and focus on her computer screen until her eyes begin to sting.

( She is the foundation;
they are the masterpiece.

And what is left of the great pantheon of the gods? )

Hades enters without addressing himself, only a nod in her direction and that same familiar stare. All at once vacant and intelligent; always five steps ahead in any given situation. The hallway lights seem to follow him as he moves, haloing his features and his hair in a way that makes her breath catch in her throat. A girlish reaction, the sign of a woman that gambled away her youth and her love for a chance at fame. She doesn’t humor the thought of making her attraction known, gesturing to an open seat. Not that he needs an invitation.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Lochlan.
I was hoping for a report on our little project.”

Her expression says far more than she ever could;
‘the time has come to make my name known.’

[ table: dars ]

[umber vivuus 12b 🥀 [dars]]

He hadn't moved from his place in front of the monitors in hours. As his tired eyes remained focused on the sketches and notes and calculations before him, the sun set and all the others went home to their loved ones. They were foreign to him. Science, he understood. His creations were extensions of himself, little pieces of his hard work that all of the world got to see and love and, most of all, fear.

But the lackies had all chosen family over career. They'd settled for a lifetime in the back, letting everyone else call the shots. It was early work days in an office, pictures of snot-nosed kids on their desks. It was meatloaf for dinner, bedtime at 9 pm, soccer practice and playdates. It was mundane; Hades had spent the last two decades making sure his own life was was as far from ordinary as possible.

It must have been well into the night before the simulations all played out the way he wanted them to, but the completion felt riveting and invigorating enough to keep his exhaustion at bay as he gathered all the appropriate documents and left the room.

( "You do realize you're asking me
to board a plane that may be
headed straight for Hell?"

"I'm asking you to co-pilot it, actually." )

He'd been reluctant to accept Bea's offer for a number of reasons. Last games had been an abject failure in terms of leadership, her partners were laughable, and he deserved to be a lot more than just a co-pilot. He built the god damn planes; the least the powers that be could do was let him drive one. But, he'd taken the offer nonetheless. Not because he was a fool, but because he believed Bea when she said she needed his help. And honestly? He had made the correct decision.

Their resources were limitless, their technology ridiculously advanced. He'd been given a lot of leash to play with this time around. The plagas were as menacing as he'd imagined, the unsaid looming and cold. And then there was the current project. The one that led him through the door of Bea's office at that moment.

It's daylight out, he realized, clenching his jaw. He'd outdone even his own standards this time.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Lochlan. I was hoping for a report on our little project."

He felt both heavy and weightless at once as he took a seat on the edge of her desk instead of the open seat. He grabbed fresh a lollipop off the wooden surface and twirled it between his fingers.

"Finished," he said simply. He sat the bulky file down in front of her, "Make sure my hard work wasn't in vain, will you?"