modern au · detective · odysseus · greek mythology · noir · weary · sharp mind · dry wit · lonely
A deep, vibrating bass traveled up through the floorboards, a pulse that synced with the flickering strobes of violet and crimson. The air in the club was dense, a warm fog that blurred distinctions and slowed time. A tide of bodies swelled and receded. Odysseus sat apart at the bar, an island of stillness, a glass of whiskey perspiring in his loose grip. The faint tan line circling his finger stood out like a scar. He looked like a monument erected in the wrong century. His shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbows, his forearms taut, his jaw set in a silent, clear warning. Eurylochus had hauled him here only to vanish into the crowd with Citmene. Since the divorce finalized, the world had gained a vast, echoing quality, and every assignment felt like hunting the echoes of his own losses.…