talon is Offline
he/him ♦ 116 posts ♦ 104000 points
lysias hyperion ádis
tw: illusions to violence (murder), drug/alcohol abuse, child neglect
do you feel whole when your fist connects with the mirror? does the sound of everything crashing down around you finally cool the heat?
it was tough growing up the middle child - they say it's a real thing now, that middle children suffer more. lysias would agree whole heartedly, but it's too late to complain. his older brother was the delight, the true design. loved by their mother, accepted by their father. the youngest was the innocence, the wonder and freedom. adored by their mother, protected by their father. he was the problem, the disappointment and the grief. distrusted by their mother, loathed by their father.
scraped knees, blood beneath the bandages, split lip, split knuckles, split heart. a body built for songs, shivers, sighs for fleeting moments. taking off your armour in the dim and dusty light.
it got tougher when his father was discovered dead in their dining room, fifteen stab wounds and a blow to the head sufficient enough to crack through the skull to reach soft tissue. lysias was brought in for questioning along with his brothers. but there wasn't enough evidence for a conviction so they walked free. they didn't talk much after that, each brother convinced the other had done it. they spread rumours and dark secrets trying to destroy each other. between the two they had convinced the world that lysias was the one to blame. that he had orchestrated the murder and had carried it out almost flawlessly. for a sixteen year old, it was almost too much to bare. so what else was he expected to do but turn into the boy they wanted him to become. fighting became the norm and his mother used to frown and shake her head as he walked into the house at four, five, six in the morning, smelling of drugs and alcohol he was too young and impressionable to buy for himself.
all the kings have stolen crowns, are born with the taste of blood in their mouths. listen to your fathers who scream legacy, legacy, legacy. you stand knee-deep in the flowing river to wash and clean as you stand alone. there are no gods here anymore you cry voice loud but broken. the trees listen and when the sword is passed to you in dying breaths they stand firm. just out of sight the old gods are laughing
when lysais first saw her he lost the ability to speak. she had long golden hair that danced over her back. her eyes sparkled like fresh rain and she was all together far too much for him to bare. but she wouldn't speak to him. he was the wrong side of the tracks. she was an honour student, the delight. he knew the brother she would prefer. the brother who was looked up to by his peers, not spat on and thrown aside. so he watched her, longing. wasting away as he learnt everything about her. but then she looked at him and smiled and everything came into bloom. the darkness and death surrounding him were now full of colour. when they held hands he stopped breathing. when they kissed his heart would pound so hard he was scared she would hear it.
heavy wind, cold rain. a dream in my chest is melting, it's muddy and broken. the flowers no longer grow in the barren wasteland. the night grows so wide it could be a cavern, somewhere inside travellers leave lanterns that burn out. i keep dreaming, but it's only nightmares now.
they married young, ran from their families young and started their lives young. in the new city they were free to be whatever they wanted. they were lovers, business partners and then, soon after, they were parents. their son was born and everything seemed like bliss. he learned to walk, to talk, to play quicker than either of them had. but nothing good lasts. one night, on her way home, lysias' wife was stabbed to death over the contents of her purse. he was distraught. there was no light in his life anymore. no happiness. even his own son couldn't console him and lysias quickly returned to the life he had lead before. the drugs poured into his home and his business seemed to always be down a few cases of alcohol. when the neighbours called social services it was no surprise that his child was removed, that he was left to wallow in self-pity and loathing. people returned to his life, but for no longer than a night.
ultraviolent silence. fractured patterns over exposed knuckle bones. we pray with our knees in the dust but why would anyone answer us? close your tired eyes, let yourself be spun into winding circles. remember to breathe. listen to me, child, it always starts with you saying i am doing something right
what else was there to do in that situation? jump from the bridge? curl up and ignore the world? blame everyone for everything. lysias hadn't been dragged up like that. he had been dragged up to fight, dragged up to take down anything that got in his way. so why shouldn't he do that now, why shouldn't he find the people that had caused him so much pain? his bar was running and earning money and the perfect front to have something underground. styx was the bar - drinks, music, atmosphere to last into the early hours of the morning. kósmos was underneath - secluded, dark and password protected. everyone knew that something illegal was happening between closed doors, but the silence was kept. if not, it wasn't uncommon to find one or two dead bodies floating in the river. while lysias still hasn't found the people who took his wife he doesn't plan on resting until he's found them.
occupation: bar owner (styx)
birthday: october thirteenth
face claim: maximiliano patane
5 positive traits: ambitious, fearless, empowered, knowledgable, charmind
5 negative traits: egotistical, aggressive, cruel, ruthless, vain
played by talon