tampered | Log; Ongoing

Log; Ongoing

When; Wednesday
Rating; PG-PG-13?
Characters; Leonidas

spartan_blood & whomever wishes to find the Spartan king?
Summary; Leonidas has died and has found himself in the City. What is this place, and what is he doing here?
Log;

Dying for a noble cause, for Sparta, was everything Leonidas could ever wish for. The arrows pierced his flesh, and the burning fire of those wounds coursed through his very veins. He did not cry out, not once...only fell back, joining his brothers, his fallen comrades-in-arms, to die. All he could think of as death whisked him away was Gorgo, his beloved Gorgo. His queen. His wife. His love. He would never see her again.

Darkness consumed him even as the Persians let out their triumphant war cry and as Xerxes struggled to overcome the pure shock of having his flawless face cut and bleeding - for everyone knew that a god does not bleed. Never does he bleed. Xerxes attempted to hide his wound the best he could; he was lucky, that day, that his Immortals and soldiers were so busy being proud of themselves for killing Leonidas' three hundred that they never took a second glance as to what their God-king was doing. The Battle of Thermopylae would become immortalized in history, but Leonidas would not be there to see his army and fellow Greeks destroy Xerxes' attempt at conquering beloved Greece.

Darkness was passing...and light was coming towards him. Leonidas blinked slowly, surprised at what the Afterlife had to offer him. His logic told him that the Afterlife was but a fable, and any and all funeral traditions were mere formalities so as to keep the Ephors happy. His logic told him that when you die, that was the end of things. What the Ephors clung to so desperately spoke of the River Styx, and of Charon the ferryman, the one who would take him to Hades - if he had the proper payment, that is. But what met his eyes was none of these things. Sunlight drifted through green leaves, and a soft breeze cooled his body. He rose slowly, taking in his surroundings. He was seated in a clearing in a forest, the grass soft and lush. This was not Hades, and this certainly wasn't the death of his consciousness either. It seemed that the Council and the Ephors were wrong this time.

The king of Sparta rose to his feet, pleased to see that he still had his helmet, cloak, shield, sword, and spear. Good. It was all he would ever need to survive. He took a step forward, then paused. The forest, other than the occasional rustle of the leaves and grass, was absolutely silent. There were no birds chirping, animals scurrying, or bugs buzzing on their merry way. Something was crouched in the shadows, although he did not know what, but it came to him suddenly that he was being watched. He was being hunted.

It was not fear that gripped him, it was a heightened sense of things. The silence, the way the sunlight hit his shield and the tip of his spear, the breeze whispering through the trees, and the patience of his enemies that was slowly dwindling. The first pounce of the panther did not surprise him. Leonidas was prepared, and his spear struck true. His form was perfect. The animal was impaled right through the throat, and its hot blood splattered onto the king's face, but he paid no mind. He moved quickly, freeing his spear from its target, waiting for the next attack. It was all over rather quickly. The five shadow panthers that had been watching Leonidas intently attacked in turn, getting a feel for this newcomer, and with each attack, Leonidas was proclaimed the victor, although the last panther had given him a hefty scratch on his right shoulder. One would expect nothing less than victory from a Spartan or from a king. He had killed the wolf with ease so long ago, and he would do so again, regardless of how his enemy changed in species. After the last beast was slain, he moved forward...and a most peculiar sound reached his ears. A sound unlike anything he had ever heard before. It seemed to grow louder with each step, and finally, the king found himself at the edge of the forest, looking upon a metropolis unlike any he had ever seen.

...What is this place? he thought, not letting any surprise or confusion cross his face. He had been trained since he was young not to be weak, and that conditioning was still present even now. Grimly, the king placed his helmet on his head and strode forward, determined to find some answers.

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In a word, Aang was bored. He was beginning to realize that despite the large number of people here, there didn't seem to be much to do in the City. Sure, it was a nice day, and he'd spent a good chunk of the morning riding his air scooter around the forest, but that had gotten old after awhile. As had trying to waterbend the waterfall into a fountain, and earthbending mini facsimiles of the buildings out of stone. With a sigh, he rolled over on the tree branch, staring blankly out around him. Frowning, he sat up as something shiny caught his eye. Was that...armour? Hopping down a branch or two, he hooked his legs around the thick wood and swung down to dangle upside down in front of the newcomer with a big grin on his face.

"Hi!"

[ooc: lol, I couldn't resist. XD]

Leonidas lifted his shield and spear, crouching in a defensive position, his eyes narrowing at the boy in front of him. He is merely a child, he thought, regarding the boy with slight suspicion, but he looks Persian...a Greek would not bear the tattoo of a barbarian.

"Tell me, boy, what is this place?" he asked, side-stepping around the strange boy, and slowly backing away, his shield and sword raised all the while.

With a slightly puzzled look, Aang cocked his head to the side and kicked his legs off of the branch. Flipping onto his feet, he grinned. The strange man in armour was obviously a newcomer to the City. That was obvious by the way he backed up defensively, holding the shield and sword in front of him.

"This is the City. I'm Aang. Nice ta meetcha!"

Mood undimmed despite the fact that there was a much larger person holding a sword in front of him, the Avatar stuck out his hand in greeting.

Cautiously, the Spartan king sheathed his sword, and reached out to shake the boy's hand. Civility was something the Spartans were proud of - however, more often than not, messengers just happened to say the wrong things at the wrong time. And so far, this child was not threatening him in any manner, so...

"Forgive me," Leonidas apologized. "It has been a very long three days since I have seen an innocent child. I am afraid that manners are forgotten quickly when one has found themselves in a strange land. I am Leonidas, king of Sparta.

"The City. That is what this place is called?" He asked, bending down to pick up his bloodstained spear. "I assume this is neither Greece or Hades, then...for I know I am dead."

Well, at least the man had put away the sword. Though...Aang was a bit disappointed. Pacifist though he might be, the sword in itself was still pretty neat to a 12 year old boy.

"Leonidas? That's a funny name. And you're a king? Neat~! The only kind I ever met was the king of Ba Sing Se, and he was pretty neat too."

Looking out over the mass of urban sprawl, the boy nodded.

"Nope, just the City. I've never heard of anywhere called Greece or Hades. Or Sparta, either. Are those places in your world?"

Whirling his hands, the boy absent-mindedly summoned the ball of air he normally sat on, perching himself on the swirling sphere as he looked out over the City.

As Aang's air ball was summoned out of nowhere, Leonidas' eyes narrowed. He did not care for sorcery - he was a man of reason, and trusted only in his own strength and that of his men. He did not like to rely solely on the grace and powers of the gods. "My world...I suppose you could say that. Greece and Sparta is as real as the very ground we now stand on, but as far as Hades goes...it seems that that is a place that does not exist."

He felt a kind of calm peacefulness despite the whole situation. It was...satisfying to know that the Ephors and the council were all wrong, that a man who "broke" his country's laws and blasphemied against the gods could find an Afterlife. If Hades did not exist, then, in turn, the gods did not exist. This also comforted him and seemed to take a great load off of his shoulders. He would no longer have to be annoyed by the trifle arguments of the two extremes. He could only hope that his men found this place; they had died a glorious death.

"Thank you for your assistance, lad. I would give you something as a token of appreciation, but alas..." He inclined his head apologetically. He had no gold on him, only his armor and weapons. "I reccommend that you stay close to the edge of the woods - there are deadly beasts about, and you are unfit for combat without a spear or a sword."

Aang laughed. This man was amusing.

"Well sure it's real. Just like Ba Sing Se and Omashu and the Fire Nation are real. This City brings people from all sorts of different worlds here, not just yours or mine."

Nodding, he shook his head, hopping down off of the air ball.

"Nah, I'll be fine. I don't need a spear or a sword to fight. Besides, most of the animals here aren't mean. They're just defending their homes."

Leonidas gave the young boy a small smile. "True...many creatures do defend their homes and the land that they love."

The king then inclined his head in farewell. "Again, thank you, young man. If you ever are interested in learning the art of combat with shield, spear, or sword, you may come to me. My people's legacy is one that I would very much like to see passed onto fine young men such as yourself. You would make a good warrior someday. I trust that we will meet again." With a curt nod, the king turned on his heel and strode away.

"Lost pal? Looks like somebody rolled you pretty good."

"Manners does not seem to become you, my friend."

The Roman Empire didn't rise until hundreds of years after the fall of Sparta, but Octavius' uniform still bore similarities to the Spartan's. Octavius halted in his tracks, spotting the man up ahead. He almost mistook him for someone he knew back home, but as he came closer he could see that he did not know this man at all.

"You there!" he shouted, pacing faster towards Leonidas. Being a man of power, himself, he might have assumed that this man would recognize him, not thinking that the Spartan came from another time, another place, even.

Leonidas felt a surge of relief as he saw the man approach him. He did not recognize him, but the he wore the helmet, armor, and the crimson of a Spartan, and that brought comfort to the king. Perhaps this place wasn't as foreboding as it seemed if a Spartan were here...

"Are you in charge?" Leonidas asked, certain that this man would give him some answers.

"Not of this particular city, I'm afraid." Octavius responded. "You must have arrived here as mysteriously as I did." The Roman searched Leonidas with his eyes, somewhat unfamiliar with the man's attire. "May I ask your name?" he said, before introducing himself, "I am Gaius Octavius."

Leonidas gazed right back at the Roman appraisingly. He was sober, polite, and straight to the point. He was obviously a man of some rank, given the fact that he held himself as if he were a man of authority, although the fact that he was not the ruler of the City was slightly disappointing.

"I am Leonidas, king of Sparta," the king introduced himself, inclining his head in respect. "It pleases me to see that I am not the only Spartan here, Octavius." Just as Octavius hadn't thought that the man before him was from a different place or a different time, Leonidas thought so as well.

Octavius' eyes widened as the man introduced himself. "King...of...Sparta?" he managed to squeeze out in a confused tone. "My friend, I am the Ruler of the Roman Empire, and from the time I come from, Sparta had fallen centuries ago..."

A small smile grew across Octavius' face, "This city is astounding..." he mumbled, raising his voice so that Leonidas could hear, he spoke again, "I must say, it's an absolute pleasure to meet you, King Leonidas. In my time, you are well known as a great historical leader." With that, the Roman bowed his head.

"Sparta had fallen centuries ago..."

An icy cold fear gripped Leonidas' heart as he heard these words. Then the Persians succeeded, he thought, the image of Gorgo, his son, and the rest of his people being subjected to slavery, and the bountiful fields of his beloved Sparta burning to the ground filled his mind. He could practically taste the ashes and hear the triumphant cries of Xerxes' powerful army. We had failed...

But then, Octavius spoke again, and any and all fears left him. The Persians had not conquered Greece, his three hundred men had not died in vain! And...he, Leonidas, the blasphemer of the gods and the one who had defied the council's wishes was regarded as a historical leader!

A small chuckle left his lips at that comment. Xerxes' was adamant about erasing any and all evidence of Sparta's existence from the histories; even now, Sparta lived on in defiance, if features of this man's uniform was any indication. "I am flattered," Leonidas replied, feeling far more comfortable now than he had when he had first arrived here. "Would you care to walk with me while I become accustomed to the surroundings? I have never seen a place like this, and I have many questions."

"It would be my pleasure," Octavius smiled, if he ever got home, his men would never believe him if he said he met the Leonidas.

"The city is an odd place," Octavius continued, turning now to face the tall buildings behind them, "It will take you some time to get used to it, but once you are settled in, you'll find that it's enhabitants are not so bad."

Leonidas began to walk down one of the many streets, his eyes taking in the large concrete buildings and the large variety of people. "Is this City a center for trade?" He asked, wondering if that might attribute to the many people. "It seems to be very...diverse. Have our people come to this place?" He inquired. It was a very feeble hope, but he couldn't help but wonder if any of his soldiers had managed to come to this afterlife as well.

Octavius shook his head, "I'm afraid we're the only ones." he said, "Trade? No, more like torture."

Octavius pointed to the taller buildings. "These are apartments, it's where everyone lives." he told the King, "I, myself share one with friends,"

"I see." His blue eyes took in the surrounding area, the strangeness of it all. "What is the...ah...religious and political standpoint of the City? I do not mean to say that monarchy is my aim, for I believe in freedom, but it would be beneficial to know what to expect when one is confronted with the clash of cultures."

So far, so good. There were the living quarters that Octavius had pointed out, and a market lay just up ahead. It seemed to have nearly everything a good city needs, but there was something missing...

"I'm afraid there isn't any real set of laws, this city is anarchy." Octavius continued down the path toward the market. "I know, it's a lot to take in all at once," the Roman frowned, "But there's still so much more I should tell you."

"Anarchy...well that's comforting," he muttered. "Please, do tell me more."

Anarchy...yes, that was it. That was what the City was missing. There was no army, no suitable band of warriors to defend the place in case enemies were to descend upon her. As far as he could tell, he and Octavius were the only two decently armed men in the entire place. This proves to be a problem, he thought. He knew this was not Sparta, and that anarchy was hardly the best thing to fight for, but if there was a suitable reason and cause to protect this place and all of its inhabitants, an army would be needed. He unconsciously placed the idea elsewhere in his head, turning his full attention back to the Roman commander beside him.

"But isn't it?" Octavius continued the conversation, not pausing a minute, "Ah, yes, something else- the city often places curses upon it's inhabitants." The Roman struggled to find the correct wording. "Some days you won't act yourself, you won't be able to control it, but it only lasts 24 hours." Octavius shook his head, "I regret to say that because of this I have committed various shameful acts, however, I was not in a normal state of mind."

"Curses...torture indeed. I was never one to put much credence to that sort of mindless ignorance, but if you, a reasonable man were affected as well, then it must be true." Leonidas frowned, wondering what sort of place he had managed to come to.

"...What is that?" Leonidas asked suddenly, pointing his spear towards the carousel. He had never seen anything like it before, and the music coming from it chilled him to the bone. He did not know why he disliked this object, but something menacing seemed to come from its presence, similar to what he had felt when gazing into the wolf's eyes for the first time and hearing Xerxes' empty offers of power and domination.

"Ah," Octavius frowned, "I've heard it been called a 'carousel', though I do not know it's purpose." The Roman could tell from Leonidas' expression that he wasn't fond of this contraption, "...I don't like it, either." he mumbled.

His eyes narrowed, and in a brief moment, Leonidas instinctively knew that there was no need for outside enemies to destroy her strange concrete buildings and terrorize her citizens. The enemy was right in front him, nestled safely in the heart of this strange place. Yes, that strange contraption was the real threat, the real enemy...but why? Octavius didn't have the answer, but someone else may have. He would get that information later; the idea he had put away for later came back at full force.

"Tell me, Octavius...does this City have a suitable army of warriors to defend her?" He asked, turning from the accursed contraption that was the carousel.

Octavius shook his head, "No, sir." he said in a very disappointed voice, "I had tried building about a month ago, however, there were not many interested."

The Roman sighed, trying to think of any other important information the King may need to know.

The king nodded in approval. The fact that he had tried definitely meant something. "I see. Well, my friend, we will just have to try again." He began walking back along the City streets, explaining his reasoning. "Every city, no matter how small or insignificant she may be, needs warriors to protect her. You say that this place curses its people once in awhile, and as far as I can tell there are many people here from many different places. Who knows what sort of power or motives others may have? Who will protect the people who do not have powers or have been trained to fight? It only makes sense that we, my friend, should build an army. I have a legacy to uphold either way," he added. Even if Spartan fell decades ago, just as Octavius said, he refused to see his people's art (if you could call killing enemies "art") and customs die out completely.

"I suppose I should find a place to stay for the night, since I will undoubtedly remain here for quite some time," he said after a moment.

Octavius nodded, bringing his fist to his chest. "Then, I, my friend, shall help you." he said, "Perhaps with twice the persuasion, the men of this city will be more willing to join."

Octavius frowned at the King's last statement, he could give him a place to stay, but he wasn't sure what his other room mates would think. "If you'd like..." he said, wiping the frown away, "...you could stay at my apartment for the night."

"Thank you...it would be much appreciated." Leonidas gestured for Octavius to lead the way.

Leonidas smiled, a genuine smile. Such a thing was rare when it came to a Spartan. Octavius reminded him briefly of Stelios and his spontaneous pledge when he had gathered his three hundred men.

"We are with you sire! For Sparta, to the death!"

He was starting to feel better already.

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Log; Ongoing

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