Seven days ago Poseidon had awoken in the modern and discovered he was trapped inside a mortal's body and completely powerless. Those seven days had been the worst days the ocean god had ever suffered through. Poseidon had never imagined he would feel so lost without his powers or the other gods and despite what he had learned from the lingering psyche of the mortal he now inhabited, this modern world bewildered the former immortal. How had he come to be here? Was he trapped to toil in the mortal world and then die like any other creature? The mere thought of death made him scowl. No, surely Hades would not take his own brother's life.
Yet Poseidon was not entirely sure his brother even existed in this world.
The modern world did not care for the gods as they once had. Instead of the large pantheon that Poseidon had once been a part of, mortals worshiped different gods now, usually one single entity. Sometimes they didn't even bother with that one, preferring to rely on science and modern technology in place of religion. In such a world, could the old gods even exist? If Poseidon's prayers were any indication, the answer was no.
It had been a blow to his ego to admit that he needed Zeus' help but after two days of mortal life, Poseidon had realized he couldn't do anything to free himself on his own. Yet, when he called out to the others there had been no reply. He had called upon each and every immortal he knew and still nothing. Either they no longer existed or they weren't listening.
It had crossed his mind that this could be some sort of punishment. Perhaps Poseidon had angered the fates. Perhaps he had angered Zeus and somehow his brother had managed to cause this curse. It would be possible with the help of his many children, particularly the brilliant Athena who bore no love for her uncle after their bitter competition for Athens and his desecration of her temple with Medusa.
It didn't matter in the end. Without help, Poseidon was trapped here. After a few days of self-pity and adjusting to the needs of this body, he decided to venture out onto the streets of the city. From the memories of the mortal, Poseidon knew that this was New York City and that he was in an area called Manhattan. Having this information was useful but the actual vehicle through which it was supplied was vastly annoying to him. Poseidon had assumed that once he had been forced into this body that the human soul and mind had left. Sadly for him, such was not the case.
There was silence at first but then came the whispers in Poseidon's mind and the memories slowly leaking out, telling the god what he needed to know. On the fourth day, just as Poseidon had given up hope, a loud voice had ripped through the god's mind. The screaming consciousness that belonged to Peter McNarma came to the surface and tried to gain control of the body. Perhaps if Poseidon actually had another body to go to he might have relented but the frightened god fought back. Eventually Peter was silenced once more and Poseidon gained control on day six. The will of a mortal had proved to be no match for the ocean god, powerless as he was.
Poseidon walked along the streets without any real purpose other than to observe his new home. Unknowingly, he had headed toward the water and after an hour or more, he had reached the docks of the Staten Island ferry. Poseidon walked along the metal railing that divided him from the murky waters before stopping and staring out across the lapping waves. The sun was setting and casting an orange light across the waves, the wharf and most of the city. For a moment Poseidon forgot about his problems and his initial hatred for this city as he enjoyed the beautiful evening.
Of course, it would be this moment that he saw her. The ferry had docked and the passengers departed in a loud and chaotic group as Poseidon watched when he suddenly spied a familiar face.
The one blessing that Poseidon had in this form was that he bore a resemblance to his former self. Though this mortal was but a shadow of the god, he still had the sharp features, the weathered face, startling blue eyes and red hair. He had thought it was just a coincidence until he saw the very face of his sister amidst the crowds.
Her name was on his lips, threatening to spring out on its own accord and before Poseidon could stop himself, he called out.
"Hestia!"
Fool, Poseidon silently cursed himself as she disappeared from sight. It's not her, it's just a mortal who looks like her. Still, he had to see her, to look into her eyes and know for sure that Hestia was not trapped in this world like he was. Moving through the crowd and pushing passed the strangers, Poseidon rapidly scanned for her blond hair. A few blonds within the crowd had fooled him now and then but he had yet to find her. Throwing caution in the wind, he called out again.
"Hesita!"
A hand touched his shoulder then, causing the red-headed god to look behind him. In clean, modern clothes free of soot she almost didn't look like herself but those eyes met his calmly with a relieved look as she opened her mouth.
"Thank heavens. I feared I was alone".
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Author's notes: The idea for this fic came from an old rpg game called Pantheos that use to be on which I was lucky to be a part of for a little while. It's not the same storyline but it is similar, I've just added my own twists. I've had this plot in my head for a while so I decided to write it out as fanfiction. As this is my first attempt at writing Greek Mythology fanfiction, I appreciate any suggests people want to make.
