alphabetasoup Mythology Prompts List - Part 1


B : Baal

A cult dedicated to a devil. No matter how heroic said devil's acts had been, it was still amusing. He had continued thinking that until said cult had begun trying to animate that ugly statue of his dear old pop, and he'd had to step in and put a permanent hold on things. Harmless worship? Sure, good, whatever. Harmless worship with a dastardly plot undermining the stability of the world and the reputation of the Legendary Dark Knight? Not-so-good. Lady had been right – she usually was about these things. He just didn't like to admit it. To her face, anyway.

- - -

F : Fenrir

He did not want to live the rest of his life chained to his illustrious father's legacy, always looked down on as merely the son of Sparda. He wanted to sever the ties to that life, to make a future for himself, built with his own power, his own efforts. Looking at the blade pinning his brother to Temen Ni Gru's rain-washed roof like a butterfly to a board, he knew he had taken the first steps towards severing those useless ties, but he could not comprehend the sadness welling up at the very thought of losing his little brother.

- - -

H : Hades

He had thought he was strong enough, thought he had enough power – was so sure of it! And now he was trapped, bound into the service of the one he had dared to defy, bound as surely as if the heavy helm was an iron collar, slowly choking his life, his once-bright spirit all but extinguished under the oppressive weight of his own guilt, his own regret. He had devoted his life to power, let that desire consume him, blinding him to the important things he had cast away: his family; his honour; and now, finally, his freedom. Hell indeed...

- - -

J : Juno

They'd gone. Vanished, leaving his world a shattered, twisted reflection of what it was. After crawling out of the wreckage, bloody and broken inside, he'd cried. Brother, gone… mother, dead… his life as he'd known it was over. No more fighting over the last piece of cake… No more stories before bed, tales of demons and dragons… Her smile… As the tears dried on his face, he stood up, the full moon turning his silver hair white, and made a silent vow, for her, that would change the rest of his life…

I couldn't protect her…

I need more power…

- - -

L : Lakshmi

A hot, steaming shower, a nice sleep, some good music on the jukebox… the best way to relax after such a tiresome case. Alas, at Devil May Cry, the best he could hope for was a lukewarm shower, some half-decent tunes... The briefcase he had received from his last client was sitting unopened on his desk, waiting for him; he draped the towel around his hips and flipped the catch. Inside, a note was taped to a fifty dollar bill.

The collateral was taken out of your pay. Try not to blow the place up next time.

Lady.

"… Damn."

- - -

M : Māui

He had been hearing stories – tales of the red-cloaked, white-haired man who would take on any job – and found it hard to believe he'd hit the jackpot so quickly. Maybe he was just so desperate to find him that he was making connections that did not exist… There was always that small, vicious voice at the back of his mind that kept reminding him that even he, the eldest, had been unable to protect them… It brought back memories of the pain… the blood… their screams…

He resolved to find the red and white stranger, come hell or high water.

- - -

Q : Quetzalcoatl

He had always been the more elegant of the two, his movements in battle flowing and smooth, like a dance with room for no other person, his sword merely a flexible extension of his arm. He had always been so sure, so self-possessed, that it came as no surprise when the cold steel of Yamato slipped easily between his ribs. The eyes boring into his were cold and calculating, those of a snake. A threatened snake, if the spark of desperation lingering there was anything to go by, determined to finish the fight with its teeth buried in its foe.

- - -

U : Ulysses

For some strange reason, Vergil reminded her of a butterfly. Jewel-bright, light on his feet, with fine features. Then the mask would shatter, and reveal the cunning mind lurking beneath, like the mantis that disguised itself as a flower or leaf to lure its prey. But whenever she saw him fight, her mind was drawn back to that image of a royal blue butterfly dancing through the air, too nimble to be caught, until it became ensnared in a net it could not see, blackened thread too fine and strong to break, caught at last by a deadly cunning spider.

- - -

V : Valhalla

He'd taken the fall willingly enough. Slashed his brother's hand when he'd tried to catch him. Fancied he could see tears in his twin's eyes as he fell, but passed it off as a trick of the light. Devils never cry. They were both damned, and no amount of good deeds and mortal thinking could change that. He felt, rather than saw, the ground approaching rapidly, that flowing, congealing pool of blood that passed for a floor. No images of white halls and white wings for him. He was a devil. He belonged in hell, like his father before him.


Snagged from LiveJournal, alphabetasoup's Mythology prompt challenge. Doing this in parts, since I can't think of any more at the moment. But fear not! I will get it done. Eventually. Hopefully soon. Er, yes. Mostly Vergil. Two of Dante. One from Lady's P.o.V.