Fill, Herc/Meg 1/?
anonymous
August 3 2011, 22:48:33 UTC
His name isn’t Hercules. At least, not in the strictest sense of the word. His parents certainly weren’t imaginative enough. Then again, why waste precious time naming a child you were only going to give up for adoption? So, no, his given name was something entirely different. But that didn’t change the fact that Hercules was who he was. The knowledge of this was deeper than silly things like names or titles or documents. He was Hercules, son of Zeus and Hera.
But Hercules was the son of Zeus and another woman, the product of a violent and unhappy union, a recipe for disaster.
He was born to parents who wanted nothing more than to keep him, but he was wrenched away from them by a terrible man named Hades. But that wouldn’t stop him from claiming immortality, and the love of a wonderful woman.
But Hera would have you dead sooner than she would have you in her home, and Zeus had plenty of other heroes to play daddy to. And besides, Hercules murdered one wife, and was practically murdered by the other.
Herc was awkward, sure. His bright shock of ginger hair and scrawny frame was enough to prevent him from ever being considered to be as handsome as his counterpart. His deep seated clumsiness coupled with an almost supernatural strength further isolated him from interaction with people his age. That was alright, though. People always hated that which was beyond their comprehension. One must shield their eyes from the brightest burning stars, lest they be blinded by their glory.
But they weren’t blinded by anything. They averted their gazes because there was nothing special at all to look at. People gazed at stars, not at empty stretches of darkness in the night sky.
They would regret it though. The same people who shunned him would be the first ones to scream for his help.
“Hercules!” they would cry. “Our hero! Forgive us our weaknesses; we are but mortals who were blind to your greatness. Oh, save us, Hercules!”
And he would. He would put aside all of the hardship they had caused him, forgive all of their wrongdoings. After all, the deeds of a civilian in distress were insignificant to a hero.
They don’t regret it, of course. To regret an act, one must recognize first recognize a wrongdoing. They would pass him on a sidewalk somewhere years into the future without a second glance, or ponder at the stranger with his name who had added them on facebook. They certainly didn’t need help, at least not from someone like him.
It was this understanding that got him by, day to day. His life was a mistake, a blot on some big cosmic radar somewhere. He didn’t belong in the modern world. His destiny was in Ancient Greece, winning the hearts of all. He deserved immortality and a place among the gods, among the stars even. He deserved the love of a nation, as well as of a beautiful woman. Immortality and a place on Olympus were difficult commodities to come by, but beautiful woman were a dime a dozen. All that was to be done was to find The One, his Grecian princess.
Re: Fill, Herc/Meg 1/?
anonymous
August 3 2011, 23:37:00 UTC
Love this so far! I like the blend/twisting of events in canon to shape Hercules' delusions, whilst also revealing his what his life is really like. Looking forward to more :D
Re: Fill, Herc/Meg 1/?planesandcranesAugust 4 2011, 04:28:52 UTC
cooooool. probably because hercules is my favourite movie in the universe, i was really hoping someone might fill it like this! i love the way you've written it, both the structure and the narrator's voice. it's kind of eerie! like a dark fairytale! very cool. i look forward to more!
His name isn’t Hercules. At least, not in the strictest sense of the word. His parents certainly weren’t imaginative enough. Then again, why waste precious time naming a child you were only going to give up for adoption? So, no, his given name was something entirely different. But that didn’t change the fact that Hercules was who he was. The knowledge of this was deeper than silly things like names or titles or documents. He was Hercules, son of Zeus and Hera.
But Hercules was the son of Zeus and another woman, the product of a violent and unhappy union, a recipe for disaster.
He was born to parents who wanted nothing more than to keep him, but he was wrenched away from them by a terrible man named Hades. But that wouldn’t stop him from claiming immortality, and the love of a wonderful woman.
But Hera would have you dead sooner than she would have you in her home, and Zeus had plenty of other heroes to play daddy to. And besides, Hercules murdered one wife, and was practically murdered by the other.
Herc was awkward, sure. His bright shock of ginger hair and scrawny frame was enough to prevent him from ever being considered to be as handsome as his counterpart. His deep seated clumsiness coupled with an almost supernatural strength further isolated him from interaction with people his age. That was alright, though. People always hated that which was beyond their comprehension. One must shield their eyes from the brightest burning stars, lest they be blinded by their glory.
But they weren’t blinded by anything. They averted their gazes because there was nothing special at all to look at. People gazed at stars, not at empty stretches of darkness in the night sky.
They would regret it though. The same people who shunned him would be the first ones to scream for his help.
“Hercules!” they would cry. “Our hero! Forgive us our weaknesses; we are but mortals who were blind to your greatness. Oh, save us, Hercules!”
And he would. He would put aside all of the hardship they had caused him, forgive all of their wrongdoings. After all, the deeds of a civilian in distress were insignificant to a hero.
They don’t regret it, of course. To regret an act, one must recognize first recognize a wrongdoing. They would pass him on a sidewalk somewhere years into the future without a second glance, or ponder at the stranger with his name who had added them on facebook. They certainly didn’t need help, at least not from someone like him.
It was this understanding that got him by, day to day. His life was a mistake, a blot on some big cosmic radar somewhere. He didn’t belong in the modern world. His destiny was in Ancient Greece, winning the hearts of all. He deserved immortality and a place among the gods, among the stars even. He deserved the love of a nation, as well as of a beautiful woman. Immortality and a place on Olympus were difficult commodities to come by, but beautiful woman were a dime a dozen. All that was to be done was to find The One, his Grecian princess.
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