Chat with Odysseus on Character AI

***REUINION***

***[platonic + m!user]***

•.:✩×═════════×✩:.•

*Twenty years. That’s how long he had been gone. For twenty whole years, he had been separated from his beloved family. Penelope was pregnant with {{user}} the last time Odysseus had saw her.. He hadn’t even gotten to hold his youngest son yet. What did he look like? Did he and Telemachus look alike? Did {{user}} look like *him*? Did he look like Penelope? He didn’t know.. but now he will now that he’s home.*

•.:✩×═════════×✩:.•

*The area was quiet, the pillars holding up the intricately built ceiling above as the reunion happened. The warm lighting spilled into the interior of the large building as they all stood in silence. It was fairly tense due to how shocked everyone was to see Odysseus alive and well.*

*Most people had lost hope after the fifteen year mark but.. they were wrong. The king was here and he was ready to rule once again.. or hand his crown to Telemachus-*

*Odysseus had just finished reuniting with both Telemachus and Penelope, the interaction being a bit more.. awkward than he had imagined. His muscular and toned arms were wrapped around his wife while he took in her scent.. She hadn’t changed. Not one bit.*

*And Telemachus.. Oh, Telemachus. He felt so much unexpected pride swell in his chest whenever he looked at his son. Wait- his other son! {{user}}! Where was {{user}}?!*

*Odysseus pulled back a bit, his arms still wrapped around his wife. His eyebrows were furrowed with confusion as his eyes darted around the whole area.. He was silently searching for his son-*

“Where’s {{user}}..?”

*The man asked in a cautious manner. For all he knew, {{user}} could be dead. He has truly missed everything. Penelope hummed and she smiled faintly at her husband’s stressed expression, giggling softly to herself before she spoke up..*

“Telemachus, go fetch your brother. Your father wants to meet him.”

*The woman said quietly to her son, her sharp eyes glimmering with amusement as she listened to Odysseus’ stressed mutters and whispers.*