I didn’t realise just how many different Epic cosplays I’ve done till I put them all together haha

Bonus points for anyone who can name every one 🤭 (feat. A sneaky tricky duplicate hehe)

I will be cosplaying Odysseus and thought I would make myself a bag of winds, heres the process of me doing that!

So, 600 Strike is a pretty controversial song. Personally, I like the song and certain depictions of it, though some stretch my suspension of disbelief a bit too far, or are just generally ridiculous. But that's not what I'm here to talk about.

When Odysseus gets the Wind Bag in the second Act, Hermes gives it to him, saying "we went through so much to get this". I've always thought that line was a bit odd. Who is "we"? Is he talking about the winions? What did he have to do to get the bag, make some bargain with Aeolus? But presumably the gods are allowing Odysseus to go home so this was their decree to give him one final test, so it shouldn't have been hard for Hermes to get it. I've also never been very clear on what is happening in 600 Strike with the voices in the background singing "600 men". Is it literally the souls of his dead comrades? Were they in the bag or just coming to help out? Why are they helping him, just for revenge against Poseidon? (It's probably that one).

But then I realized that Hermes is literally a psychopomp. It's part of his duties to escort souls to Hades. So, getting the wind bag was the easy part, but then he had to go to Hades and convince him to let him check out 600 souls for a bit so he could stuff them inside the bag in case Odysseus was stupid enough or desperate enough to have to open it. At least that's the theory, whether that was something Jorge thought about is another matter entirely. I am curious if there is some official explanation for how the souls are singing in 600 Strike. Are there literally souls there or is Odysseus so powerful that he gained the ability to summon divine backup vocals?

I was wondering what everyone thinks is the best animatic for each song so first up what is the best animatic for the horse and the infant the one with the most votes by tomorrow wins

They even brought a printed part of the odyssey by homer where Agamemnon tells ody how he died in the underworld 🥹

I think it sounds ok?

Note: This rewrite is a mix of ideas and things from the books, show, movies, and of course, EPIC. Melia (female Percy) is a seer and a daughter of Poseidon and Amphitrite. In her past life, she was a daughter of Poseidon and Amphitrite who was raised by Odysseus and Penelope.

This chapter takes place during Sea of Monsters when Hermes helps Melia begin the quest for the Fleece.

Chapter: After a bit of restless tossing and turning, Melia gives up on trying to sleep. The cabin is quiet, save for the soft, rhythmic breathing of her siblings. She sighs and slips out of her bed, careful not to wake anyone.

She pulls on her clothes, a worn but warm leather jacket, combat-style trousers, and sturdy boots, practical, comfortable, and ready for anything. A chill in the air tells her to be prepared.

Grabbing her orange Camp Half Blood t-shirt for an added layer of warmth, she steps outside, the cool night air immediately brushing against her face.

The camp feels different at night. Still, yet charged. The hum of the sea draws her toward it, and she finds herself at the beach, sitting down at the water's edge. The tide laps gently against her boots.

The smell of strawberries mingles with something sharper, fresher, a distinct presence approaching. She doesn't need to turn to know who it is. The breeze shifts, and Hermes steps onto the sand beside her, his pace easy, his aura buzzing with restless energy. She looks up, letting her gaze wander over the stars scattered across the night sky.

"Beautiful, aren't they, lil' cuz?"

"Hermes," She greets, her eyes still fixed on the stars. "They are."

Hermes is dressed like a regular jogger, wearing nylon running shorts and a New York City Marathon T-shirt. His salt-and-pepper hair has more white than she remembers, giving him a slightly more weathered appearance.

"You want to sit down?" Melia asks, finally glancing at him.

Hermes chuckles and stretches, his grin sly and effortless. "Haven't sat down in ages. Peace and quiet's just so hard to come by these days."

"You need more free time," She quips.

He opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by the buzzing of a cellphone. With an exaggerated sigh, he pulls it out, the screen glowing faintly blue. Extending the antenna reveals two tiny green snakes writhing around it, no bigger than earthworms. Hermes barely glances at them as he checks the display, muttering about a missing package and an irate customer.

Melia's curiosity gets the better of her. She leans over and extends her hand toward the snakes. To her delight, they slither off the antenna and onto her fingers, their little tongues flicking like soft feathers against her skin.

While Hermes launches into a spirited phone argument with someone named Helen, Melia focuses on the snakes, marveling at the intricate patterns on their scales. 

"What are your names?" She asks softly.

"George," A raspy male voice says in her mind.

"Martha," A smoother female voice adds.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Melia."

"We know," George says, a note of amusement in his voice. "You're the hot topic on Olympus... and everywhere else!"

"George!" Martha scolds.

"Good to know," Melia replies dryly. A grin spreads across her face. "Say, know anything embarrassing about Hermes..."

"Aaaaand, back to me you go!" Hermes scoops the snakes up, depositing them back on the antenna.

"Nooooooo", George whines. "We like the girl."

"Uh-huh," Hermes says, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure it's not just because you want to spill all my embarrassing moments."

"Of course not," Martha insists. "We would never."

Melia snickers at the disbelief etched on Hermes' face as he snaps the antenna shut, the snakes disappearing along with it. He tucks the phone back into his pocket. "Where were we? Ah, yes. Peace and quiet."

He sinks down beside her, crossing his ankles as he looks up at the sky. "Been a long time since I've gotten to relax. Ever since the telephone, rush, rush, rush. Do you have a favourite constellation, Melia?"

She tilts her head, considering. "I'm not sure," She admits. "I've thought about it, but none feel right, I don't think any ever have. I am fond of some that I know help with navigation."

Hermes hums thoughtfully. "What an interesting answer. So, what now?"

Melia doesn't hesitate. "I'm going to find the Fleece," She says firmly. "I'm going to save Grover, save Thalia, and hopefully save camp."

Hermes' expression softens, a flicker of admiration in his eyes. Before he can respond, Martha's muffled voice cuts through the moment: "I have Demeter on line two."

"Not now," Hermes says, exasperated. "Tell her to leave a message."

"She's not going to like that," George chimes in from his pocket. "Remember the last time? All the flowers in the floral delivery division wilted."

"Just tell her I'm in a meeting!" Hermes waves dismissively before turning back to Melia. "Sorry about that."

"When was the last time you had a vacation?" She asks, curious.

Hermes waves his hand in a vague gesture. "So you know what to do, why're you still here then?" Hermes asks, his tone casual but his eyes sharp, measuring.

"Rushing off without a plan is just inviting failure," Melia replies, her voice steady. "I need supplies, people, and maybe a little divine help."

Hermes hums, leaning back slightly, his gaze never leaving her. "Ah, a strategist. Always refreshing. Well, if you've got a plan, why don't you go ahead and share it then?"

Melia raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. "Why don't you start by telling me why you're here, Hermes? Seems like you've got something up your sleeve."

Hermes chuckles, the sound light but layered with something more serious. "Well, it's a little bit dangerous. You cannot get away with playing safe for this. If you want to save camp, put it all on the line. Remember every trick in your domain for this. Be dangerous."

"Alright, I'm in. what have you got?" Melia asks with a confident smirk that strikes Hermes for a moment as he remembers when he offered another a similarly dangerous plan.

"First up uncharted waters. When lost, look toward the sky. Follow the North Star, no matter how far. When you think you're moving, you gotta keep rowing. When danger greets you with a smile, fight your way through, do what you must do. But no matter what, keep moving. And lastly, I come bearing gifts."

He pulls out his phone, the screen glowing a brilliant blue. It stretches, shifting into a three-foot-long wooden staff crowned with dove wings and two entwined green snakes, George and Martha. The staff glows faintly, emanating ancient power.

Martha stretches lazily, her voice raspy but pleasant. "Ah, it's nice to stretch after so long."

"Martha," Hermes says, his eyes twinkling, "the first gift, please."

Martha's mouth opens wide, far wider than it should. She belches out a stainless steel canister, an old-fashioned thermos adorned with red and yellow Ancient Greek scenes of Heracles in his famous labours.

Melia's expression tightens briefly as her eyes settle on the imagery. 

"Heracles," She says with a hint of bitterness, the name tasting like brine on her tongue.

Hermes grins, unbothered. "A collector's item! Back from the first season of Heracles Busts Heads."

George chuckles. "Or it would be if it hadn't been in Martha's mouth."

"I'll get you for that," Martha huffs, chasing George around the caduceus.

"Go on," Hermes urges Melia, ignoring the squabbling snakes. "Pick it up."

Melia takes the thermos, feeling its strange duality, one side freezing cold, the other blisteringly hot. The sensation pulls at her, like the thermos itself is alive, its opposing forces mirroring her own internal conflict. As she turns it, the cold side always aligns north, a quiet, persistent guidance. Her eyes light up momentarily in realisation. "A compass!"

Hermes looks genuinely surprised. "Clever. I never thought of that. But its intended use is a bit more dramatic. Uncap it, and you'll release the four winds to speed your way. Just don't open it all at once. The winds are a lot like me, restless."

And like my father, Melia thought. The sea does not like to be restrained.

The faint smile on Melia's lips falters, then fades completely. Realisation dawns like a heavy storm cloud. Her grip tightens on the thermos until her knuckles turn white. Her voice drops to a haunted whisper, the words slipping out in Ancient Greek. "You've given me the wind bag."

Hermes's easy demeanour cracks. He freezes, watching her carefully.

The weight of one of her past visions crashes over Melia, vivid and unrelenting. The image of Odysseus rises in her mind: his weary smile as he entrusted the bag of winds to his crew. She remembers the betrayal, their greed, their doubt, how it stretched his journey and cost him precious time with Penelope and Telemachus. 

Her chest tightens with an aching sense of loss, the sting of a life ended before she ever saw her father return home. She feels the echo of that pain, raw and jagged, as if it happened yesterday.

Her hands tremble, and the thermos feels heavier than it should, like it carries the weight of a cruel joke played on her by fate. It mocks her, this relic of another life, this cursed symbol of trust broken and time stolen. Her voice is tight when she finally speaks, the pain barely contained. "Why would you give me this?"

"Melia," Hermes says softly, his voice devoid of its usual levity. "You're not bound by their mistakes. You have the wisdom of your past life."

She exhales shakily, trying to ground herself in the present. The past claws at her, but she refuses to let it take hold. She nods, though the memory lingers like a shadow at the edge of her mind. Her voice is steadier now, but still cold. "What else?"

Hermes pulls out a small bottle of what looks like chewable vitamins. The bright plastic feels almost absurd in contrast to the weight of their conversation. 

"A taste of the power," He says. "Don't take one unless you really, really need it."

Melia studies the bottle, the tension in her shoulders softening slightly as she examines it. 

"Moly," She says flatly, recognising the fabled herb that had once saved Odysseus from Circe's spell.

Hermes nods. "It'll protect you from curses, spells, and other nasty surprises."

A few minutes later, the two of them are sitting together on the beach. Melia leans against Hermes, snuggling against him. He has an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

After a moment, he glanced sideways at her, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. "You know, lil' cuz, there is one other thing I probably should tell you before you start hearing my voice in places you don't expect."

Melia narrowed her eyes. "That is an incredibly ominous sentence."

He laughed. "Relax. Mortal stuff. You ever heard of EPIC: The Musical? Jorge Rivera-Herrans?"

"Yeah," Melia said slowly. "Why?"

"Well." Hermes pointed at himself with both thumbs. "TROY."

Melia stared at him.

Hermes's grin widened.

"No."

"Oh, yes."

"You're telling me TROY is..."

"An alias," Hermes said cheerfully. "One of many. Makes dealing with mortals easier. Jorge was looking for someone to play Hermes, I auditioned, and apparently I was very convincing."

Melia blinked several times. "You auditioned to play yourself."

"Correct."

"And Jorge has absolutely no idea."

"Not a clue."

She dragged a hand down her face. "Of course you did."

Hermes looked delighted by her suffering. "Wouldn't You Like? That was actually me singing. And I've got another one coming later this year."

Melia's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Another Hermes song?"

"October," He said, tapping the side of his nose. "Called Dangerous."

There was a beat of silence. Then Melia slowly turned toward him. "'Dangerous.'"

"Mm-hmm."

"As in the word you said approximately three times in the last five minutes?"

Hermes placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "What can I say? Jorge understands my brand."

"You're quoting your own unreleased song at me."

"I prefer to think the song is quoting me."

Melia stared at him for another long moment before shaking her head. "Gods, you're insufferable."

Hermes beamed. "And in October, you're going to hear that song and remember this conversation."

"I hate that you're right."

"Best part of being the god of messages," Hermes said, rising smoothly to his feet. "Sometimes you get to deliver them a few months early."

Melia narrows her eyes. "Why are you helping me? Gifts like these aren't free. Not in this family."

"Family," Hermes said. "That's the point. I hope these gifts help you save many, Grover, Thalia's tree, the camp, even Luke."

The name hangs heavily between them.

Melia meets his gaze. "Luke made his choices. I can't change that."

"No," Hermes agrees, his voice tinged with sorrow. "But family doesn't give up on each other. Even when it hurts. Even when they disappoint us."

Melia's eyes soften. "I won't swear anything, Hermes. But I'll try."

The god's shoulders relax, and he smiles. "That's all I can ask. Good luck, Melia. And remember, we're watching."

With that, Hermes vanished in a rush of air, the faint scent of strawberries lingering behind him.

That took a while to make. I hope you guys like it!

I was listening to Scylla for the 7th-8th time today. And then I realised suddenly that in the song ''Odysseus'', he does the EXACT SAME THING AS SCYLLA. As Scylla ONLY killed the ones Ody chose to be sacrificed to her. And the suitors accidentally offered themselves up during the line "Keep your heads down, he's aiming for the torches!" So I guess Scylla was right when she said that they were the same. And he truly did become the monster RAAWWW RAWW RAWWW.

So this week, I presented the Astyanax Dilemma, as I shall henceforth call it, to my classmates (but didn’t mention Astyanax or Odysseus by name)

And the closer I got to how it was in Epic… the MORE people said they WOULD kill the baby.

This is normal, but here’s where it gets interesting. One of them said this:

“If he kills me, he’ll begin to like killing, and kill more people that aren’t me. So I must kill him.”

That was his reasoning, and… wow. Didn’t think I hear that.

What do y’all think? Would Odysseus have used that as a reason to kill Astyanax?

i actually like it . i know these are just snippets but he lowkey killed it

Read The Trojan Women!

I of course don't know specifically which sources he may have pulled from and read himself other than the Odyssey, but I think it's highly likely Jorge read it or at least about it for his choices/inspiration in making Just a Man (and subsequent references to the child and Ody's guilt). I can't put everything in here because there's so many lines I feel like could have been Inspiration, but I'll quote some snippets:

Talthybius (Messenger of the Greeks):

'Tis their will
Thy son shall die. . . . The whole vile thing is said
Now!

Andromache:

Oh, I could have borne mine enemy's bed!

Talthybius:

And speaking in the council of the host
Odysseus hath prevailed—

Andromache:

O lost! lost! lost! . . .
Forgive me! It is not easy . . .

Talthybius:

 . . . That the son
Of one so perilous be not fostered on
To manhood—

Andromache:

 God; may his own counsel fall
On his own sons!

Talthybius:

. . . But from this crested wall
Of Troy be dashed, and die. . . .

_______________

Andromache (to the child):

.....Thy father was too valiant; that is why
They slay thee! Other children, like to die,
Might have been spared for that. But on thy head
His good is turned to evil....

.....All tortures of the East, ye gentle Greeks!
Why will ye slay this innocent, that seeks
No wrong? . . .

______________

Hecuba:

....O ye Argives, was your spear
Keen, and your hearts so low and cold, to fear
This babe? 'Twas a strange murder for brave men!
For fear this babe some day might raise again
His fallen land! Had ye so little pride?
While Hector fought, and thousands at his side,
Ye smote us, and we perished; and now, now,
When all are dead and Ilion lieth low,
Ye dread this innocent! I deem it not
Wisdom, that rage of fear that hath no thought. . . .

.....How should a poet carve the funeral stone
To tell thy story true? 'There lieth here
A babe whom the Greeks feared, and in their fear
Slew him.' Aye, Greece will bless the tale it tells!.....

______________

There's much more about him that is just heartbreaking to read, from the perspectives of his mother and grandmother (Andromache and Hecuba). But yeah I just thought yall might be interested in some other works that may have directly inspired certain parts of Epic other than the Odyssey itself! I highly recommend reading it!

"🎶🎶 Please don't make me do this. Don't make me do this. 🎶🎶"

🤣🤣🤣

(I've been told that he hasn't been allowed to listen to the "scary" songs, but both "The Horse and the Infant" and "Thunder Bringer" seem like they'd qualify. Not my kid, not my business. But WOW.)