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Post by Herakles on January 11th 2017, 10:07 pm

My life has been cursed with impossible challenges. At first, I resented the destiny thrust upon me by the Wicked Sisters of Fate. Now, I realize why they only gaze through a single eye, for they surely cannot foresee the depths of their spinning. Constantly overcoming my own limits has created this terrible form, with terrible hands and terrible eyes. Iíve given up hope that anyone will end my miserable existence, and honestly, I donít think Iíll ever find what Iím looking for.

I remember the beginning Ė Eurystheus (that bastard) had ordered me the first of twelve impossible feats. Nemea was plagued by a lion with invulnerable skin, and of course, I was to slay it. At the time, I had no expectations of even succeeding Ė I was still dealing with the haunts of my heart. Now I wish I had been devoured.

Before the hunt, I stayed in Cleonae. It was a desolate home to Molorchus, a simple man who allowed me to stay in his home before the hunt. He even offered a sacrifice to the Gods for my safe passage, but I stayed his hand. Maybe it was out of spite, or maybe I had some foolish pride. If I lived and slayed the beast, Molorchus would give offerings to Zeus and if I died, then the offerings would be sent to me, to exclaim my spirit as heroic. Maybe I thought I could use the offering as leverage, to have Zeus bless me in return for devotion. But no blessing could rob me of this curse.

More than I remember Molorchusí haggard features, I remember the futility of the day following. My arrows slid off the creature like pebbles thrown betwixt a roaring waterfall. My club did nothing to its impenetrable hide. It chased me into a cave and cornered its prey. I can still remember the sweat of fear that covered me, the inevitable doom beneath the glare of the large feline. The taste of terror hasnít traveled upon my tongue in such a time, now. But I remember then, when it filled my mouth like sulfur and manure, pouring into every ounce of my being until I was ready to burst free from the shackles of mortality.

But I was cursed to move.

The Namean Lion raked into my fragile skin with its mighty claws, and my arms flung around its neck in desperation. With an upward heave, I sent the claws deeper into my skin as the weight of the lion bore down on its windpipes, utterly crushing them. I wrestled with it while it used the final moments of life it had to terrify me. But, of course, I was the last one standing, alone in the Darkness. I was soaked with a mix of my own blood and the Lionís mucus, which had been ejected in the middle of its asphyxiation. For some reason, though, I wasnít cold. In fact, I felt nothing at all.

Herakles, The Lone Hero

Stands just over the second meter of height.


Post Count : 2
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Re: test

Post by Shirou on January 11th 2017, 10:25 pm


"Hey Shi get back here silly!" Etzolix said running naked and ended up in front of people. "...." "Awkward.."
[23:25:24] Zihark joined the chat on 10/17/2011, 11:25 pm
[02:13:16] Etzolix : YOU WON'T
[02:13:18] Etzolix : I GOT YIMA ON A LEASH
[1:41:03 AM] "Ansem": I only have
[1:41:09 AM] "Ansem": 500 munny
[1:41:20 AM] "Ansem": ....IMA WELFARE PIMP


Post Count : 6124
Character Age : 0

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