[ When the change happens, when the realms shift and a thread he hadn't even known to exist snaps like the string of his lyre pulled taut before the crest in an age-old song - Apollo has a brief moment of panic. Fleeting, short; he has to find Artemis. Not for fear of what comes next, because the Delian King knows that when the time comes for action, his sister will carry the arrows for his bow and he, hers in turn. It's not worry or concern or the need for reassurance that it's not just him, that Gaia has not forsaken him and him alone.
It's not that. It's just.
He knows he's not alone, and it's painfully disorienting. To feel all and one and nothing at all, separated from a part of himself; cut off from the Sun and the earth and his family, too. There's only one he can turn to, naturally. Artemis delivered him once before, protected their mother from their batshit Queen and guided him safely into this world. Surely, she can bring him back to it, help him to retune what feels so horribly out of sync.
His familiars don't answer and he can't seek the portals. He could look for Hermes or - their mother, he thinks, he would seek out kind and loving Leto, were she not guised and protected from the one and the all - so Apollo has to rely on the last line to her when she leaves, frightfully fickle and he has never hated technology the way he does now. ]
Come on, El, now is not the fucking time to ignore your thrice-damned mobile.
[ Pick up. Pick up. He swears and breathes and waits, because that's all he's left to. They will figure this out. They will. ]
you always get to go first..........
It's not that. It's just.
He knows he's not alone, and it's painfully disorienting. To feel all and one and nothing at all, separated from a part of himself; cut off from the Sun and the earth and his family, too. There's only one he can turn to, naturally. Artemis delivered him once before, protected their mother from their batshit Queen and guided him safely into this world. Surely, she can bring him back to it, help him to retune what feels so horribly out of sync.
His familiars don't answer and he can't seek the portals. He could look for Hermes or - their mother, he thinks, he would seek out kind and loving Leto, were she not guised and protected from the one and the all - so Apollo has to rely on the last line to her when she leaves, frightfully fickle and he has never hated technology the way he does now. ]
Come on, El, now is not the fucking time to ignore your thrice-damned mobile.
[ Pick up. Pick up. He swears and breathes and waits, because that's all he's left to. They will figure this out. They will. ]