We Need To Talk (Mors)

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Where was the god of the dead when you needed him? Which was an odd thing for anyone to say, really, as death was hardly ever wanted. Though it had seemed the man had made some friends around the Roman camp, which was the reason Prometheus was going to such lengths to find him. Unfortunately, the world was a good deal more populated than the last time it he’d been intentionally looking for someone, and Mors was the type to get around quickly and not stick around long from what little he’d seen of the man over the centuries. Not that that was actually very much at all. Though Mors was one of the few, well, the only one at camp, that outstripped Prometheus in age, so there was likely a great deal he didn’t know about him as he hadn’t been born quite yet.

But now that Mors was spending more time at Camp Jupiter, even seeming to get along with the campers, it gave the Titan pause. Death was not known for his socialization skills, as he was usually bogged down with work. But here he was, hanging around a Roman camp. Prometheus could not doubt that the timing was curious. As was that of all the other gods hanging around the camp, but their presence was not as unusual as Mors’ was. Mors was usually though of as a foreboding presence. Which made him wonder all the more about the nature of what was going on. After all, he wasn’t even entirely sure what he was proscribing to these demigods and legacies. Except that he just knew, he could foresee, that it would be in their best interest. Though there was the disturbing dreams he’d been having. Only his friend, Cupid – odd a friend as he may be – knew of those. Those were enough to cause the Titan of Forethought to wonder a little, but so far any seeking into their meaning was turning up dead.

Which was why he was here. No death pun intended. He’d searched the camp, and even taken a glance into the underworld, which had not been pleasant, but eventually he gave in and allowed his foresight to aid him. And it told him that Mors would most likely be in this vicinity sometime in the next month. That was the trouble with foresight. As reliable as it usually was, it was vague and not as precise as, say, Apollo’s little gift. He could pinpoint anything, that man. But he usually couldn’t see the big picture nearly as well.

All the same, it brought Prometheus here, to the heart of Africa, to wait patiently to see if the god would indeed arrive. After all, to him, a month was nothing. He did rather hope that it was sooner rather than later though. Meanwhile, he took refuge in a small village, dressed down from his usual suit, rather now in just a worn shirt and jeans, along with a jacket to keep the sun off. He left his presence open, so anyone with the ability to sense the mythical realm would know he was there within a mile or more. Just sit and wait.

Tag: Mors
Word Count: 531
Notes:

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It had been an absolute mess. Mors could not help but hate droughts, the slow painful death of so many humans, and especially children. He tried so often to ease the pain of dying, but so often he could not. Separating the soul from the body so the pain was disconnected was impossible when it took months for people to die. Slowly Mors stepped up to a few children, one was merely a toddler and had been given the water the others were able to collect. A true testament to human kindness. Mors took the hands of the children pulling them carefully from their bodies which lay on the dry ground. They were confused, and looked up at the man in front of them, stoic without a smile nor a frown. He told them they had died, they asked about their brother and Mors simply told them he lived. Mors did not wish to speak much, and kept him emotions buried far in his heart. The children did not cry, they simply accepted it, but worried about their sibling. Looking at the child Mors could see his death date, it was no time soon. With a quick glance around Mors gestured to a safari group that was coming up toward the dying village. Bringing water and food, just a little too late for some of the villagers. The boys went happily after that, and Mors let them enter the gates of the underworld. He wished they would go to Elysium, however he did not know of their lives. He only knew of their death.

Turning toward the village Mors sighed, he had felt a presence the entire time he was there. He was not currently visible to mortal eyes, but kept his form as he normally did. He tried to go from place to place quietly, no talking, no interacting. It kept things cleaner, and less trouble some. With another sigh he headed towards the village, and allowed himself to be visible while no one was paying attention. He greatly disliked changing his clothes appearance, however walking around in a suit often drew attention, which was terribly unwanted at the moment. Perhaps it was more accurate to say it was near always unwanted. His clothes nearly matched that of the incoming aid, possibly American teens wearing jeans and oddly loose t-shirts. He did however keep his suit jacket like coat, since it was made to be temperature regulating. It kept him as cool as the underworld was, and his jeans were black as the deepest shadows. Mors had his color preferences after all.

Walking to an older woman, Mors pulled her soul as she slipped away. The So called charity workers were being quite slow getting water to the elderly. Mors looked around, his eyes catching several low counts. A few places he noticed souls which had already left and remained lingering. Pulling his notebook out he noticed that some where placed under Mercury's care. With a sigh he closed his book, that man could be so forgetful at times. With a gentle hand he guided the souls to the door he made for them. It truly was a mess sometimes, however with a final look around Mors accepted it may be safe to assume there would be no deaths. The gods could always intervene, but as of now it seemed safe.

Following the aura he found Prometheus, like him he was not wearing his tell tale suit. He relieved his own aura slightly, unsure if the titan had noticed him for who he was at the moment. It may have just been the lack of a comfortable suit that made him feel unlike himself. “I must thank you, I would not have ventured this far into the village were you not here.” Mors did not know why Prometheus was there at that moment, he often enjoyed being with human though. It was a quirk he liked about the titan, and something he respected was his reasons for being around human. Not because he wished to have physical relations with them, but out of genuin interest. Something Mors could relate to.

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This place was sad, really. Even he could feel the aura of death over the place, and considering that wasn’t his specialty, that was saying something. No wonder Mors would be showing up in this sort of place. What little water there was not in the best quality, but there was so little of it that it hardly mattered. People seemed to be dying left and right. Given the choice, he would not be here at all. He hated to see life destroyed, personally. And this place seemed to be doing a very good job of it. Then again, where else would you find Mors but hand in hand with death. What an awful job. He really felt for the god sometimes. Though he hardly knew him, he knew that being around nothing but the dead and dying so much couldn’t be easy on a person’s (or god’s) mind. Just look at Pluto. Enough said. Then again, he did have something of a bias against Pluto. And all his siblings. Mors was gladly not on that list. So he did hold some hope that he and the god of death might be able to get along, at least to some degree or another.

And speak of the immortal, here he came. He could feel his aura a ways off, but growing closer. It was definitely him. He had a similar presence about him to Pluto’s, since they both worked under similar circumstances. Then again, Mors’ was considerably older. Come to think of it, he wasn’t really sure how old the god was. For all he knew, he could be his senior. As a youth (relatively), he’d spent more time paying attention to mankind rather than the realm of the immortals. And there was Mors, similarly dressed down. Then again, Prometheus had the feeling that wearing their usual garb in a place like this would just be a smack in the face for the people. Showing up in a suit when the people here didn’t even have water. That just seemed a bit rude. Hence why he had dressed down. So he was glad to see that Mors seemed to be on the same page. He shrugged a little at the greeting. Why Mors wanted to venture further into a dying village, he wasn’t so sure of, but that was him. Then again, perhaps that had helped him to pick up a few more dead or dying.

“Mors. Pleasure to see you. Sorry if I’m interrupting your duties. Seems to be a busy place here for the likes of you. I had hopes you would be here.” Well, perhaps hopes wasn’t entirely true, as that left far too much in the air. His reasoning was based in slightly more concrete ideas. “I was looking to have a small conversation with you if you didn’t mind taking some time out of your schedule. If you so desire.” he waved to an empty seat across from him at the low table. This promised to be interesting.

Tag: Mors
Word Count: 503
Notes:

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Prometheus was the Titan of forethought, Mors did not know why he was here in this gods forsaken place but with him there was normally a reason. When it came to crossing paths with another god, or any kind of deity, Mors found it was not normally coincidence. This place was not a place for the curious human loving man anyway. His thoughts did not manage to make it very far before the titan confirmed he had come for Mors. A little chat of sorts, and while Mors was often busy, to actually see this man waiting here for him piqued his curiosity. Of course that did not show on his cold emotionless face. Gently, and quietly Mors moved the chair across from Prometheus so that he could sit facing him. "It would be my pleasure. I had imagined you were not simply here for sight seeing."

The voiced of excited people could be heard outside, as the news of fresh water began to get around. People left the small place Mors and Prometheus currently occupied, voices raising steadily. Water was brought to every place and every home, and people were rejoicing. It sounded like a small party was starting up outside. Mors did not smile, but his eyes glanced towards the door as people left and came. Smiles and laughter on their faces. These people were grateful, despite the fact it was late for many of their relatives. It was strange how quickly the mood of a village could change. Only a moment ago it felt like the entire place was dying. It was still just as dusty and bleak, but the mood was different. Mors liked to see this change. As terrible as it could be to see children who had dehydrated until death the turn around were his favorite part.

More thank likely it was hard to gauge anything the straight faced god of death thought of. He learned a long time ago this was for the best. Don't smile at the joy, don't cry at the sadness, not in front of others. Perhaps with family, but never with strangers. They often did not understand, or attempted to take advantage of him. He was not going to be a slave to his emotions like some of the other gods. Mostly anger, the others had a terrible tendency to let their anger loose and make so much more work for him.

"I have no qualms with taking time to speak with you. It has been quite sometime, and I can understand why you wouldn't want to come see me in the underworld." It really had been quite the punishment Prometheus had to go through, and for such a silly matter. Jupiter had such terrible pride issues, though he supposed almost all of them did. Sure they were immortal and all powerful, at the moment, but was that any reason to take fire from humans? Or punish the man who cared enough to give it back? Mors certainly didn't think so, but that was another matter. "What brings you here?"

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Prometheus gave Mors a small smile. After all, this was one of the gods he didn’t have anything against, so he really saw no reason to be uncivil with him. And he had to admit, it must be rather odd to fine a Titan, or any god really besides someone like Mors, at a place like this. Ah well. It did offer a nice private place to talk, so that was worth something. “No, I can’t say I was. It is interesting to see how the people have used their surroundings to their favor in the most efficient way possible, but I am not as much a fan of the suffering and death though. Your job is not one I envy.” Well, technically speaking, he didn’t envy most of the gods. He was perfectly content where he was with what he was doing. To take over another god or Titan or whatever’s job just didn’t seem right, even if it could be made possible. “I did actually come here seeking you out. A little birdie told me you’d be here. Interesting location. I take it it’s also not for sight seeing.” Which was not really a question, as just looking around made it obvious why the guide of the dead would be here.

He looked around as the fuss began to break out and smiled slightly. Too late for some, but not too late for all. It was good to see the affect it had. He did note that Mors did not smile though. How very like him. From what little he had ever seen of the man, he did not show emotions often if at all. Which Prometheus found to be rather odd, but that was his own choice. Emotions were one of the joys of life. Well, most of them. Things like pain and anger were not so good, but joy and the like were much better. Which was why Prometheus was hardly shy of emotions. Most of the time. When it was business, he was a little more cool, but he didn’t mind being himself sometimes.

He looked back to Mors, the smile leaving his face at the sight once more of the solemn man, and nodded. “Yes, I’m glad you understand. The underworld has never much been a favorite place of mine. Though to each their own, am I right? I’m glad you seem to get along there well enough. From what I’ve heard, and the single time I did glimpse it, I must say you have made quite the living space for yourself. I might be curious to visit sometime if the owner were alright with that.” He figured Mors would know that he was referring to him there. Yes, Prometheus had gotten a small view of the place, and found it rather intriguing. Unfortunately, the visit had been cut abruptly short by the arrival of some less than pleasant gods. At least, less than pleasant in Prometheus’ mind. And that wasn’t saying much as he thought a good handful of the gods to be most unpleasant anyhow.

He leaned back in his seat at Mors’ question. A decent one, that. Immortals hardly ever met up for simply catching up on old times. Well, except he and Cupid did do that occasionally. A strange duo, he knew, but it was what it was. Mors was another story though. From what he guessed, the immortal across from him didn’t do much of anything frivolously. Which brought him to the main question. “Well, I was rather hoping to run into you. I have heard you’ve been around the Roman camp lately and, though I admit to not knowing your record enough to judge, it just struck me as odd. If I may, have you any specific reason for being there? Or simply getting out for a bit? Which I can’t fault you for to be sure.” Then again, the presence of Mors, like here, was usually not a good sign. Hence the worry about the little roman camp. And about matters coming up lately in his own area were not making his unease any better.

Tag: Mors
Word Count: 688
Notes:

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The suffering and death, yes that was about how people summed up his job. Mors had to admit the horrifying things that he saw humans to to each other had been the major cause of his emotional detachment from pretty much everything. However it was not all bad. Seeing humans die to save another, the ones they cared about or even some random stranger, that was what kept him sane. Though he had to admit he would never wish this job on another, and hardly wished for anyone else's job. He wondered if all the gods felt the same way, since it was not so much a chore or a job as it was part of their personality. Perhaps Pluto would wish another job, or to be more precise he would wish Mors on to another god. How he loved making Pluto's day go completely down the drain, and all it took was a bit of paper work. Though Mors much preferred to cut back his own work, and that normally involved making sure Pluto did not cause anything terrible to happen for an influx of souls. There was also the matter of his strange taste in clothing, made of human souls. That was certainly disturbing, Mors would never want them to be near him. The souls in his scythe were placed there for good reason, and he enjoyed putting it to the grinding stone perhaps a little too much.

"Not sight seeing no, however it would be nice to go somewhere for that purpose. Perhaps next time we met it would be under such pleasant circumstances." He spoke calmly, and perhaps some would call it cold and harsh. Emotion did not lace his words, nor his face, not in the slightest. That was simply how Mors was around people, and nothing would change that. "Please, if you wish to smile at the joy the surrounding mortals feel free. I will not deny others feelings." It was a personal choice after all, and Prometheus did not seem the type to choice the same things Mors did. He seemed a bit like Mercury, the joyful sometimes prankster type. At least from the stories he had heard that was somewhat how he envisioned him. It had been quite some times since he had really talked to the man. He knew him to be the titan of forethought though, so that defiantly set him aside from Mercury. Hopefully in the best way possible.

Yes, the brief birthday party that had been thrown for him. Mors was never quite sure how any of those gods had found their way to his home, perhaps he left it too open for visitors. Mercury, and Somnus had free reign on his house at all times. He was not often there unless for his work space. It was interesting that Neptune had some how made it into the underworld, despite the obvious dislike the three brothers had for each other. "I do not mind you visiting me, I have lived there for quite some time. Though it is a bit near Tartarus, I like my home." He had to keep an eye out for the pesky monsters after all, can't let them run wild and free the moment a demigod vanquished one.

Mors did not move, just sat up straight in his chair as he did the moment he sit down. If not for speaking and blinking one might thing he was a statue, he has the pale skin for it. At the question though, he nodded ever so slightly. "I have been making an attempt to spend more time with my family, more specifically the grand children I have which reside in camp." Mors was not sure how much information to give the other god, or the title that was given his generation, titan. Gunnar had told him about the boys worried over his dear aunt, and Pluto's rather odd child. He certainly wanted to discuss it with Prometheus, the titan being of the few gods he trusted to think. He did however believe the matters of family, why he wanted to spend more time with his grandchildren, was not information the man needed. Running the conversation with Gunnar over in his mind, he attempted to find something unusual, something that might actually be of use and not simply another 'mortals are weird' moment.

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Prometheus nodded. “I couldn’t agree more. I have a few location recommendations for such a meeting. Tell me, have you been to New Zealand recently? The less inhabited parts.” Mors visiting there would be no surprise, since there were people there, and wherever there were people, death was needed. He looked back to the door as more people rushed past, while Mors commented on his own show of emotion, and allowed himself a smile. Though he and Mors did have a good deal in common, emotions was not one of them. And he was okay with that. He looked back to Mors when the people had passed, a hint of the old smile still lingering. “Appreciated. I have found it to be something that makes life all the more enjoyable, but I do respect your choice to avoid it.” A job like his, it had to be rough on the mind and heart. Perhaps the best way of handling it was to seal himself off from the world as he seemed to do. Prometheus could not fault him at all for that.

Ah, the party. Yes, that had been interesting. And he couldn’t lie that it had been weighing on his conscious to some degree since. “Thank you for the warm invitation. Though I am no fan of Tartarus, I can see why it would offer you solitude and peace.” He sighed. “I must apologize for my behavior before though. Regarding several of the unexpected guests. My behavior was not courteous to you and I’m afraid it might have spoiled the celebration to some degree. I will not let it happen again.” Even though such a thing would not change how he felt about the majority of the gods. Unfortunately, the ones that he got along with, except perhaps Mors, had all up and vanished. Busy with their duties, no doubt. It was one of the perks and downsides of being a titan, and of being one of something such as forethought. His job was to inspire mortals in their endeavors, and even that had been passed over mostly to Minerva. Was he bitter? Yes. Perhaps some. But it also left him with a lot of free time to spend with the mortals he cared about. Not in the way most gods seemed to go. No, he was not one for romance at all, merely someone to talk to. His family was not the best company usually, but the mortals had always been interesting to be around.

So he certainly couldn’t fault Mors for spending time with them. Especially when he had grand children in the picture. “Well then, I’m sure they are quite appreciative to have you visit them. It’s not often that gods take the time to do so. You are something unique, Mors. In a good way.” And he meant it. Not only was the god older than himself even, but he saw and knew a great deal more than most immortals cared to bother with. It was good to see that he was putting time aside for matters aside from his job.

Tag: Mors
Word Count: 516
Notes: I admit, I have no idea where to go with this. If you have any ideas, shoot.