Young Writers Society

Welcome to Mount Olympus, the kingdom in the sky and the home of the Greek gods. Ten of them have been called together for a most mysterious occasion, where the ground rule of no murder has already been established.

But what really would a family meet up between all of these people be, without a fair bit of fighting and opportunity to take out the trash?

The temptation is too great and Zeus, the head of the family who called them all together, has been killed within the first few moments of dinner.

It is now up to you to assume one of the posts of the dinner guests, and get introduced to the mansion staff and murder victim. These guys and gals, are not up for grabs as the character you choose, but will be very essential to the plotline. I'll post their profiles very soon.



The Butler: Hermes (@ladylizz)


The guests will be organized by color and if you're having trouble coming up with a god that you would like to use, there will be a list of suggestions in the DT.

Black: Asclepius (@TheSilverFox)
Yellow: Apollo (@Danni88)
Purple: Dionysus (@Sujana)
Orange: Hades (@Caesar)
Green: Hypnos (@shaniac)
Blue: Astraea (@kat13254)
Red: Aphrodite (@DivinePrincess)
Gray: Artemis (@Audy)


CP template

Code: Select all

[b]Name: [/b]
[b]Gender: [/b]
[b]Appearance: [/b]
(Considering our subject matter, it shouldn't be too hard to find a proper portrait.  I'm gonna try and encourage the use of actual pieces of artwork, over like a picture from one of the Percy Jackson movies.)
[b]Personality: [/b]
[b]Interests: [/b]
(Look it up.  This SB does require a little bit of research on your end.)
[b]Family: [/b]
(Who do they hate?  Who do they love?  Who do they wish would just die already?)
[b]Motive: [/b]
(Everyone here will hate Zeus but dig up a really good reason why they would be willing to kill him at this dinner party.
[b]Other: [/b]
(Anything else you feel is relevant to these characters.)

Hermes

Hermes walked around the house once more, stepping into all the rooms to assure everything was set in place for the dinner party that evening.

Ten places at the table, for the eight guests, the host and the hostess. The host, Zeus, had been sent away for the planning of this mysterious meeting and Hermes had been told by Hera, that he would be arriving with the guests.

Just twelve hours ago, he had driven Zeus out to cabin, almost 100 miles away. Zeus had been stubborn about staying behind, saying that he ought to be there to greet the guests, but for the set up to work, he needed to be one of the guests.

They didn’t talk on the trip out there. Why would they? They never had much luck at that before. Few words were spoken at the cabin, just the slamming of the doors and shatter of the windows. Hermes quickly floated back to the mansion and began the preparations, that he was just now finishing.

Everything was straight and clean, well at least the furniture was but maybe not the people. He laughed at this little joke as he floated up the rafters of the library to dust the top shelf. Ganymede stepped into the doorway of the library while straightening his uniform, rapped on the giant oaken doors and shouted up Hermes, “Sir, we’ve encountered a problem with the plumbing.”
Up above in the rafters, there was some grumbling and cursing, as Hermes slowly descended and jumped off the bookshelf.
“What is it?”
“The toilet and bath have flooded the upstairs bathroom.”

From very high above both of them, came a screech and a shout of, “God dammit Hermes, get the hell up here.”

Hermes winced at Hera’s call but still rushed off to fix it. Ganymede followed slowly up the stairs with a toolbox and stood outside the bathroom, listening to the conversation taking place inside.

“Hera, we don’t need this bathroom tonight. I’m just going to shut off the valves and dry it out.”
“What will they think of this situation? What if someone happens to come up here to snoop and finds that one of our toilets is broken? Can’t you imagine the scandal?”
“If our family is going to judge us for anything, it’s probably not going to be for anything as simple as this shit. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to go and get the vacuum out of the shop.”
“I hope you don’t expect me to clean up this mess, because I will tear you a new one, mister-“
“Ganymede will take care of it, ma’am. Why don’t you go and check in with Hestia about the food?”

Hera lifted her white and gold dress, giving it a quick twirl to dry it out, and mumbled something about blue cheese stuffed olives.

“Alright, I’m going to make sure Pan won’t play anything too obnoxious tonight. You have this under control?”
“As always.”

Hermes floated down another level and went into the ballroom, where Pan was busy tinkering with the speakers. Every second a word would float out and then skip to the next line of the lyric.
In South, there’s city, down the where women pretty, all men deliver…

“Think that’s too much for tonight?”
“Pan, let’s just go with classical Greek and maybe no one will shoot the piano man. This isn’t really a jazz or folk music crowd. Make it something that doesn’t over power the arguments.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”

Hermes did another sweep, looking in onto the kitchen to see Hera and Hestia fighting over the olives they were going to serve. With 30 minutes remaining, perhaps he would be able to maintain some peace. On the other hand, he wanted to kill Zeus as much as the rest of them, the titans knew he would be justified in those actions.
Hermes plucked his flying tortoise out of the air and started to relate to it about how much he wanted to hurt Zeus.

“I can’t believe I’m holding a party for the god that raped my mother and made me into his servant. I mean, no wonder I ended up in juvie as the patron of thieves. And then he wouldn’t even bail me out of the stupid mortal prisons, time and time again, after he was the one who called the cops.”
He sighed at the thought of explaining this to a magical reptile but continued.
“I mean maybe some people have more dramatic reasons to want to hurt him but still, he’s repeatedly ruined my businesses and my life. What do you think, Aldabra?”

The giant tortoise wriggled in his arms, trying to escape from the sort of cuddle it was held in.

“I know, no one wants to be with me. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the eons, it’s that you can’t give up on your family, no matter how tempting they make it.”

10 minutes remaining and two guests were already standing on the stoop.
Hermes straightened his red velvet suit tightened his tie, and stepped forward to greet the first batch of guests.

“Hypnos! Asclepius! It’s been awhile, step right in.”

Asclepius

The God of Healers strode through the front entrance. He slammed his staff on the ground, so that the snake crawling along it rose up to his shoulder. “It hasn’t been long enough since I’ve last seen some of our guests,” he said. He and his snake still bowed their heads in Hermes’s direction. “Present company excluded.” Asclepius ducked out of the way as the snake aimed for his ear. Blasted thing hated his lies.

Present company was certainly not excluded. Hermes may have been a fellow healer, but, as a psychopomp, he was just another gear in this absurd death business. And Hypnos, the god of sleep? Wasn’t that obvious? Still, Asclepius figured that he could tolerate the both of them, as well as the cadre of idiotic family members bumbling into the house, for one night. Then he could be free of them for, say, a few decades.

Asclepius struck the ground with his staff again, sending the snake crawling back onto it. Then he slipped his sandals off, leaving them on the red rug, and took off his blue coat, handing it to Hermes. The messenger, who had a strange expression, set the coat on the coat hanger next to Asclepius. Satisfied, the healer nodded and walked into the estate. He didn’t give any thought to walking across the polished marble floors barefoot, nor letting the yellow and red edges of his robes wave around him. Surely his fellow gods would be used to the smell of blood by now. If not, they almost certainly had perfume on hand.

He didn’t want to be here. Yet, the invitation he’d received had seemed rather earnest, if the depiction of lightning bolts had suggested anything. Asclepius wasn’t about to be killed by his grandfather again, especially over something so stupid as a party. Then again, it would have been fun to ignore the request and make another stand against the cruelty of death. Except, it wouldn’t have been great for his family. So, here he was. A hostage. He was the location at the required time, and, if Zeus was angry about anything else, well, he should’ve written it down in the invitation.

As he passed the kitchen, Hera popped out. His step-grandmother looked as frustrated as normal: cheeks red, lips drawn to a line, eyes wide and full of hatred. “You,” she said, pointing to Asclepius. “You know all about plants. Could you tell dear Hestia that black olives would be much more suitable than green ones?”

“I know all about medicinal plants,” Asclepius said, sighing. “Go find Athena, or someone else more qualified.”

Hera threw her hands up. “I suppose I can only trust my own children,” she said, huffing and turning around. “Good day.” She stormed back into the kitchen.

Asclepius, both hands clutching the staff, waited until she was gone to breath a sigh of relief, only broken by the snake trying to bite those said hands. He flicked the snake in its nose cavities and moved on.

Fortunately, a couple rooms away, Asclepius found someone he could tolerate. In the ballroom, Pan pranced around, poking at speakers and pulling instruments onto the stage. He waved to Asclepius as the god of healing approached.

“Good to see you’re not dead,” Asclepius said, waving back. He moved to one of the walls and rested against it, setting his staff on top of a table. The snake slithered off and circled one of the punch bowls, eyeing the punch inside in curiosity.

“Why would I be?” Pan replied, wiping the sweat from his brow and skipping over to Asclepius. He looked Asclepius up and down. “You’re here early. And underdressed.”

Asclepius snorted. “Traffic was better than I’d thought, and this coming from the guy who’s actually wearing pants for once?” He slipped out a bong from his robes. “I’m also here to get as stoned as possible before the rest of my family shows up.”

Pan watched as Asclepius pulled out weed from a box and stuffed it into one end of the bong. After pulling out a matchbox, taking a match from that, lighting the match, and setting the weed on fire, Asclepius offered the bong to Pan. “No can do,” Pan said. “I’m the musician tonight.” At least this god didn’t complain about his weed smoking – that made Pan okay in Asclepius’s book.

“So be it,” said Asclepius, breathing in the smoke and exhaling loudly. “I never paid much attention to music in the first place.”

“Oh,” Pan said. He frowned, but leaned up against the wall next to Asclepius. They looked out over the ballroom. After a couple minutes, Pan tapped a hoof against the ground and said, “How’s the wives and kids?”

“Hmm?” said Asclepius. The ballroom suddenly looked both taller and thinner, and he barely remember being annoyed at Hera or Zeus or any part of this gathering. Everything was fine; it could be dealt with later; he was perfectly calm. The question almost didn’t pull him out of his stupor, but Pan snapped a finger in front of his face. “Yeah, they’re all fine. Everything’s okay. We’re working hard and keeping the living alive.”

Pan nodded. “Probably sucks you can’t bring them back from the dead, doesn’t it?” he said, stepping away briefly to deal with the smoke coming out of one of the speakers.

“That it does,” Asclepius replied, nodding. Looking over, he pulled the snake out of the punch bowl and set it on the table. It hacked out some of the punch and shivered, curling back around the staff. “It was my one favorite thing to do in life, the one thing that really made my job effective, and he took it away from me. Maybe I can get Zeus to change his mind, but…”

Pulling out a roll of duct tape from his pants, Pan called back, “He’s stubborn, yeah.”

Asclepius puffed out some smoke. “Guess it’d be nice to see how he likes it. To die, that is. Don’t think I’ll see the day, though.”

While Pan tried to fix the speaker, or at least keep it from catching on fire, Asclepius could already see the others start to arrive. Let the show begin, he thought.

Astraea

The mansion in front of me draws an involuntary shudder. A house. My childhood house. How I resent my father. He forced me away from Earth, when I was ever so happy. My heart still yearns for that mortal heart, despite it being long since passed. I took refuge among the stars, hiding my pain and sorrows. I watched as the earth I once loved fell into despair. I heard the rumours that they believe I took the Golden age with me, some are angry, some wishing I would return, but I know I could never. My heart aches, the sight of his death, still echoing through my mind.

I force myself to take a deep breath, and knock timidly on the door, the feeling foreign. The door pulls open and I see Hermes' face, and a gentle smile pulls at my lips.

"Welcome Miss Astraea, right this was." He swings open his arms, and I step into the doorway, removing my sun hat and hanging it gently on a hook, my coat following suit.

"Thank you Hermes, it's a pleasure to see you again,"
I follow his footsteps closely, disallowing my eyes from wandering at the oh so familiar decor. The hallways haven't changed much in the years I've been away, although, it doesn't appeal to me in quite the same way it used to.
Living amongst the stars, it really changes perspective. From here, to a humble house, living along with the mortals, to the stars. Although none can really compare with the life filling Earth, the mortals, they were all so unique. The same could be said for the Gods, but it's different in a way. Gods have extravagance, and confidence, where if you look to mortals, they have a different sort of Morality... I guess it could be why they're called mortals.

I snap myself out of my daze when I see the ballroom doors opening. A... aroma enters my nose and I can't quite place my finger on it, or stop my nose from turning up at the smell.
I see quite a large number of the other guests have already arrived, some staff busily flittering around, tending to the needs of those here.

A tall woman heads in my direction, her chestnut hair in a braid, although I can tell it is quite hard to tame, her personality may just as well be the same by the rest of her apperance.

"Hello! You must be Astraea, I'm Artemis."

"Ah.. Yes I am. It has been quite a long time since I've been here. Things just feel.. strange." I look around the room taking in the surroundings, the room has definatly prepped and altered for this event.

"Me as well,"

I wish to find out more about her, but Hera comes scurring into the room, her form still managing to be elegant. I look down at my dress, its pale colour nothing in comparison to her dress. Although the sparkles intertwined in the fabric gives the apperance of stars, I still feel less in comparison to step mother everyone describes at hateful, yet I haven't been introduced to her personally, so I figure I may as well try.

"Hello, I am Astraea," I nod my head as a show of respect, but when I raise my head her eyes are so filled with hatred it makes me internally recoil.

"Hera." Her word is short and sharp, her tone a no-nonsense one making it clear she's not up for conversing.

I open my mouth to hopefully make up for whatever it is I did, but I close it just as quickly, her gaze a burning flame. I shy away, rushing to a corner where it is mostly deserted, and keep my head down, ashamed. If Father married her, it rationalizes what he did, by forcing me to leave my place of happiness, despite my hesitance to accept his cruelty.

Dinner parties are one of Aphrodite’s favorite events to attend. She sat in her quarters, her servants taking every one of her long golden curls and pinning them up into a bun. They set the bun in place with diamonds and seashells, one of Aphrodite’s trademarks. The servants then took glitter and rubbed it all over her porcelain body. She never had to wear any makeup, for her looks were already unbearably stunning.
The outfit she choose was sexy and historic. She wore straps to cover her breasts and a tight golden skirt to hug her hips—which showed off her curves. She then threw on some gladiator sandals and headed out to the garden to get on one of her white horses.

When she arrived to the dinner party, only three four people there: Hermes, Asclepius, Astraea, and Hypnos. Hermes was always fond of Aphrodite, but that’s mostly because he believed that since they are both so good looking, they belong together. Aphrodite was always open to the idea, but she always pushed it to the side when she remembered she had Ares on her side and Hephaestus jealously watching her every move from their palace.

She never wanted to be with Hephaestus, mostly for the fact he was ugly and just nothing like her. She enjoyed going to the beach and collecting seashells whereas he liked to sit at home and create armor. Plus, he wasn’t tough enough for her. She always loved Ares—the god of war—who made her feel alive and happy. Nevertheless, she was always unfaithful to her husband. She didn’t care, because she was married unwillingly to the ugly god by Hera.

Even though she completely despised Hera, she always remembered that she is even more beautiful than her and, in her mind, believed that one day Karma would catch up to her. And apparently, it did.

Aphrodite stepped through the doors and expected the normal greeting she always got from Hermes, “Ah, my beautiful seashell… How are you this lovely evening?”

“Ah, stop it!” She laughs as he kisses her hands, “What’s going on here anyways? Certainly you don’t believe that—,” He interrupts her and leads her to where everyone else is sitting, “Just sit. Enjoy yourself.”

Astraea looked up as soon as Aphrodite walked in the room with a sense of hate. Aphrodite simply just smiled and sat down, right next to her to be fair, and cleared her throat, “Oh, why the face, Astraea? You’re going to get wrinkles.”

She scoffed and bounced back, “You’re the one that would be more likely to get wrinkles, Aphrodite.”

“Atleast I could keep my lover alive,” Aphrodite ends the argument, with Astraea losing her smile and shaking her head.

“Alright, alright,” Asclepius walks out of a room and sits across from us at the table, “You two stop it.”

“Are you high?” Aphrodite smiles at him and he giggles slightly.

“That’s up for you to decide, sweetcheeks.”

Hypnos smiles at Aphrodite, in a sense of reassurance that he believes she's pure. Aphrodite always liked Hypnos, because he’s always honest and believes the best in people. He also was the complete opposite of her, which gave her a sense of stability.

Hypnos opens his mouth to say something when the door opens, and somebody else enters.

Hypnos was almost late for this party.

Hypnos was almost caught in traffic because he overslept.

The almosts continued to rise by the time he actually got to the front doors of the towering mansion. He wasn't wearing anything fancy, just the casual white button up with a pair of dirty jeans that were laying around his room. Hypnos's brown hair was unbrushed, sprouting like dead weeds during winter. He had tried licking his palm and putting it down, but it kept rising back. Undefeated, Hypnos decided what he looked like would be enough.

He stepped onto the stoop, a bundle of nerves tangled its way into his stomach. Hypnos wanted to make an impression on everyone there since sometimes he was viewed as not as important as everyone else, despite controlling the world's sleep cycles. Zeus was viewed as the higher God will all this power but Hypnos only viewed him as a guy who threw lightning bolts at bad guys. He basically got all the credit when no one else wanted the credit was up in the air. Hypnos wanted to be like Zeus and have billions of billions of people bow down before you. That was the kind of life he wanted and if he could, Hypnos would kill Zeus himself.

But these thoughts would have to be locked away in some vault inside of his heart. He had made it inside of the looming mansion and quickly banished any hope of being the first one there. The kitchen was beautiful with gleaming candleholders and a long table with white sheets. There were plates that lined each side of the table and a fruit basket in the center. Hypnos became to think he might be a bit overdressed for such an occasion-but, he was a god and sometimes gods overdressed.

He was in the room with three other gods: Hermes, Asclepius, and Astrae. Their names were harder to pronounce as the list continued to go on, Hypnos noted when taking a drink of water. Entering the room now was Aphrodite and the entire room glowed. Hypnos looked up and felt butterflies swirl inside his stomach, but he didn't feel any attraction to the goddess of love, despite what several tellings have told. He felt that love gets in the way of things and when doing your job, you should just do it and not have to worry.

Aphrodite was busy talking to the two other gods. Hypnos felt the need to just smoothen down his already messy hair, but at that point, it felt like it would be no hope. She looks over for a moment and he gives her a smile. The kind you would give when you aren't sure what is happening but you just do it anyway.

He was about to say hello but the door opened. Looking towards the door, Apollo strolled in with a smug smile and a golden aura surrounding his entire body. Hypnos didn't like Apollo because of his "playboy" actions. It was kind of rough to even be in the same room at him.

"The party has arrived," Apollo claimed.

"The party hasn't even started," Hypnos pointed out, drinking some more water.

Apollo sent him a glare. He then walked over to the table and started talking to Aphrodite. He didn't want to deal with all of this. At this time, Hypnos could've been in his cave, caring for the poppies or sleeping. Though, he began to realize that this party could be good for him since he was such an antisocial god. Hypnos took another sip of water, wallowing in his thoughts when the door opened again.