mythopoeics

Problem A: Wake up in a strange apartment that smells like patchouli.
Solution: Leave the apartment, hop on bus, go home.

Problem B: Outside = jungle, no buses.
Solution: SHRIEK

Problem C: Come back inside, find crossbow and water and computer.
Solution: Attempt to learn how to shoot crossbow.

Problem D: Do not know how to shoot crossbow.
Solution: FLING IT ACROSS THE ROOM

Problem E: Look out window, see BRONTOSAURUS' FACE
Solution: proceed to go into cardiac arrest

My dogs came with me for that 'trip'. They adjust better to this BS than I do. Huh.

[Filter: Morgan]

I don't like the warnings of death. Watch yourself. We might come back, we might not. But death at the hands of a person like that Greek bother isn't the way for either of us to go.

Besides, it would be annoying to lose my little sister when I've gotten so used to you.

Caradoc Leigh Boudreaux (aka Pheme) - 1, Establishment (aka The Man) - 0

I successfully lobbied against the father/daughter and mother/son dance school wanted to have by pointing out how exclusionary (yay for online thesauruses) it was to those of us who ain't got those parents, and I even got an apology from the Headmaster. They're still having a dance, but now we can bring whatever relative we want. So, uncle CuCu-kachoo, you wanna come to a school dance next Friday night with me?

Otherwise, fuck those fairies. They were little jerks! Mine erased hours of blackmail material on half my classmates and hid my USB drive with last season's Once Upon a Time on it, and I need that for my Jefferson fix! Say what you will about the show, but SebStan is smokin' hot. Plus, she renamed half my computer files so I couldn't find my password folder for my Tumblr or my Facebook. Rude.

Anyway, I'm glad that's all over.

People of the world, the time has come to unveil my new secret: I am officially blonde. It took a couple days to get the color right -- SHUSH, EUTERPE, I KNOW IT LOOKED HILAR -- but now it's looking like, you know, a head of nice, blonde hair.

I already forgot what it was like to be a redhead.

Everyone, I need your help -- especially yours, uncle CuCu! My uncle said I could get a puppy, but it can't be anything yappy! So I need help picking out the most awesomest puppy ever, okay?

I can't get anything that grows too big because we live in an apartment, and my future doggie needs to get along with little dorks like my cousin Charlie, okay?

The nightmares of his imprisonment didn't happen every night but when they struck, he usually found himself startled awake, teeth clenched so hard that he had given himself a headache. The once-hound did not shriek or cry out, never disturbing his family, but it took him a while to unwind his long frame from the tense position he had put himself in during his sleep. There wouldn't be anymore sleep after that.

And when he was more composed, he would descend as quietly as possible to the family room and stretch out on the sofa. Ramsey would show up and his fingers threaded through the dog's silky fur, feeling a nose nudged against his chest as worried eyes peered at him. Dogs were the best, he would tiredly think, eyes trying to focus in the darkness. By the time morning would come, he would behave as if he had gotten up early or would go out for a run to put colour in his face. To try to hide the weariness he couldn't beat.

Often on those runs his thoughts would turn darker. One day, when he was over those nightmares, he would find Reza and kill her for causing all this.

Niflheim should have been mine.

[ filter; grant ]
I think I would like a dog of my own. No, I'm certain.

[ filter; pyri ]
Hello.

I'm alive.



Let's not tell my dad, okay? Either one of them.

Really not digging the responsibilities I seem to have taken upon myself since getting back from Zurvan. Especially not the part where I might need to take a time out from grad school and partying to focus more on being a motherfucking adult. Not cool, reality, not cool.

The only thing cheering me up right now is knowing Jersey Shore got cancelled. As Ice Cube would say --


[filter; apollo]
I know you want to see Reed, but before I bring him by I need to set a few ground rules, alright?

[filter; cù sìth]
Crazy question... what's your opinion on kids? How's my favorite basement stranger doing?

[filter; gabriel & merlin/visible to thalia]
How do I say this delicately... Anyone have any tips on how to entertain a seven year old?

[filter; private]
Note to self -- enroll Reed in elementary school, quit college to get a real job, and see if Jerry Springer has a show on how to deal with being my former son's sister.

It occurred to me this morning after I got over waking up to spooning with Merlin that there's so much that I could say about what happened, or about the years of therapy I might need after finding some guy chained up in my basement (who would have scared the pants off me, had I been wearing any), but I'm not going to. I'm not even going to ask why there was some stranger in the basement -- like if this is some sort of kinky Fifty Shades of Grey thing do tell -- though I will toot my own horn by letting it be known that I freed him, because I'm awesome like that.

Instead, I'm just going to sum up everything with the following --



( cut for length and silliness )

Cù Sìth finally came across someone. He had been lucky until this moment to not have to found any stray Camelotians. The order that his Marshal had given had chilled him. Though he was very fond of his adopted country, willing to lay down his life for it if it came to it, he had not signed up for cold, ruthless murder of his people.

And the mother who had tucked a small child behind her skirts was not someone he could pull the trigger on. His gun only remained risen for a second longer (all while she pleaded with him, even throwing out she was pregnant) before it lowered and he moved toward her, hissing for her silence unless she wanted to die. He wasn't too kind in maneuvering her out of sight and back into what appeared to be her small cottage and but it was for her own good. There, she was informed that she needed to get out now before someone else found her and killed her (after quite possibly doing something worse). He told her his name, that of his sister's and about her family, that he had been born in Camelot but had left and made his home in Niflheim. And, of course, of the order that had been given.

Cù Sìth welcomed the realization and lack of sobbing that came after what he had said. She would survive if she kept this up. He told her to grab some food and whatever else she could comfortably carry. As she did that, he hastily wrote out a letter for her to take. His family needed to know and he knew he could trust them to do what was necessary. When she and the child were ready, he pulled out a map and marked where she could safely go, where to hide if necessary, how to quickly get to the nearest village and where closest train station could be found. Camelot was home for him and he knew the land very well, having always been a traveler and an outdoorsman. He could have guided the Niflheimian army into the most strategic of locations, in places were sharpshooters could have picked off Iriyians with ease, the hiding spots for other ambushes, the trails that lead to open places and the places to avoid setting up camp. But such information would not be given to Daphne now, not after that order against his own people. It would be her own mistake that things were about to get a lot worse for Niflheim.

But his knowledge would aid this woman. Taking her to the back door, he told her to hurry, for the sake of both her children. Leaning her out, he went with her a certain distance before having to stop. Cù Sìth watched her go the rest of the way, remaining where he was for the next ten minutes, eyes and ears ready to pick up any sounds of distress. When none came, he finally turned back, unaware he had been seen leading the small family out of danger.

( the letter )

[Tenjin]

Those little fuckers entrenched themselves in well: landmines, barbed wire, machine guns and artillery.

[Niflheim Soldiers & Tenjin]

Percival, take your men to the Camelot border, await further instructions.

Agravaine, I need you on the other side.


The rest of you see to the artillery, we're going to shell them hard.

[This Daphne knew how to do. Much better than a lover or a wife or anything she could be. This she could do.]

[Filter: High ranks of Niflheim]

The army is being assembled and made ready. A day or two and we can march.

[Filter: Soldiers of Niflheim]

Time to move out, pumpkins.

[The kill had been good. He runs his hands down the back of his dog, a beastly thing that stood tall and had a wild look about him. In the real world, it would have been known as a Scottish Deerhound but Scotland didn't exist here. It didn't change the fact the dog was a fantastic partner for times like this.

And the deer never had stood a chance against them. Kills loaded and the dog allowed to rest, Cù Sìth takes a moment to scribble in his journal.]

I went hunting and it was great. Look at me, sis, I'm not even bleeding on the pages. I'm a good boy, yes, I am.

For the soldier in Ryugu-jo: played by the railroad tracks and then crossed them to go hunting. Still alive as you can see. Don't be too mad. If there's something else you've done that you think I can't do, name it. I'll consider it.

Does anyone know any good bedtime stories??

[Filter: Hades]
You must be busy.

[When she finally woke up, War felt uncomfortable and cranky. Lord, she was fucking cranky. The ceiling was too white, the sheets were too itchy and there too many tubes going into her mouth, her wrist- and the instinct was to shove them all out. So War did just that, to the alarm of the nurses - which had then ended up in the whole fiasco of having to be strapped to the bed. A week or so trapped in a chemical-induced calm had War so furious it was a miracle no one had been set on fire by the power of her will.

War waking up to flowers and a pair of hulk hands was never going to end well. It just couldn't end like that, even if the ghost of a smile crossed her expression. She's drowsy as fuck, but that had never stopped War before. Oh well.

Her wrists unstrapped, she yanked off the drip and reached over for the phone.]

[Filter: Gabriel]

you feathery fucking stalker

[Filter: Horsemen]


im awake now someone bring me something to fucking eat

[Filter: Gawain]

our parents are freaking the fuck out
tell them to calm down
or ill have to punch someone.

[Filter: CuSith]


rematch bitch

[One day earlier had marked an important moment in Hel's life. One minute she had been passing by a restaurant patio, when she'd heard those petty remarks she had grown so accustomed to in high school fly right behind her. Former classmates, she would discover upon turning around. They had been whores in school. They didn't dress any different now.

And without a word, her mother's reminder ringing in her ear, she strode over, took a fork off one of their plates, and stabbed it into the wood of the table mere millimeters from one of the girl's fingers. Just as silent as she'd come, she walked away, the sounds of shrieking following her with each step.]

I am not someone to be mocked. You don't mock me ever. You will treat the queen of the dead with respect.

[filter; grant]
??

[filter; angrboda]
Father is dead. Do you think he would go to Valhalla or Fólkvangr?

Working in a confectionery shop had its downfalls but it also had its upsides. Like watching a screaming child be denied an extra treat by a stressed parent. He waited until the one with the credit card had their back to him before grinning openly at the display. One had to take enjoyment where they could (and it had nothing about what he was).

He only had to work until the afternoon today. The once-hound was antsy to get off work and enjoy the bright day. Perhaps he'd take out the dogs with Morgan. No, this was a likelihood. He'd encourage her into it, his nature insistent enough to want to push her. But she was an introverted thing. Surely she would bend and he would be the victor.

A bag of mixed sweets was under the counter, paid for and ready to take. Maybe it would be enough to tempt. If not, he'd find someone to take it (maybe that oddball spy who he knew worked at that sushi place).

Hello. My name is I'm I need

What's this place?

[For Pheme, waking up on the morning of the 25th to discover that she had the abilities of her goddess self back was like a dream come true. The wings were fun, but what she was really thrilled about was the fact that she could hear everything. No matter which way she turned her head, the conversations of everyone around her could be heard as though they were sitting in her bedroom telling her these things herself. Once she walked outside, her wings disappeared along with her stellar hearing, but that didn't bother her since she knew that once she got home she'd be her old self again.

By the time Saturday morning rolled around, she'd had enough. Switching on the voice function on her computer, a very tired-sounding Pheme took to the airwaves.]

Okay, seriously? Y'all need to shut the fuck up. I'm so sick and tired of hearin' everythin'. It was fun at first, but now I just wanna sleep....

[filtered AWAY from family (not including horus)]
I was wonderingggg. How does one go about an engagement party? Those things happen before weddings, right? I'M NEW TO THIS.

[filter; cu sith]
YOU + ME.

[filter; blackwells]
There's no time like the present, yeah? I don't think this is much of a secret, considered I've been outed. This reincarnation business isn't that new to me -- I've been through it twice before.

I'm Greek. Pan, to be precise.

[filter; public]
I'm playing at Birdland tomorrow at 7pm if anyone likes jazz. Full band and all that jazz.

[Cù Sìth was not without family though sometimes he thought he could do without them. Like when his sisters felt it was appropriate to be loud while he was sleeping. Irritation finally boiled into a plan and, after they had gone out, he had slipped into their rooms and stolen all their shoes and one sock from each pair (never would he touch their undergarments, ew).

These were then carefully tucked into boxes in the attic, in the garage and even among the dogs' things. Then, to avoid being around (as more loudness would follow once the girls were back), he took Kira, Ramsey and Arthur out for their walks. It was from the park he typed up a post.]

[Filter: Aubrey]

Aubrey. There's a party I'm going to this weekend. Come with me. Bring some pals. It's an ABC party. If you know what that means, bring the right pals.

[Filter: Public]

I wish we were still in the maze. I'd have won. Just like when I found the General's niece first. :)

Hmmm. Arthur's drooling on my shoe.

[Pheme wasn't too weirded out to find herself in the maze armed with only a pocket knife and a compass. In fact, minus the lack of mosquitoes, it reminded her a lot of being a kid growing up in the bayou and going frog gigging with some scissors tied to a stick. She was making the most of it, practicing her survival skills and doing pretty damn well as far as she thought, when someone decided to change her fortunes.

She'd climbed up a tree in order to get some fruit, and was relaxing on a large limb when they first appeared. She had no idea who 'they' were, except they seemed pissed (maybe this was their tree?) and were coming right for her. Jumping out of her perch in the foliage, she began to run as fast as she could, but she could tell they were right behind her. Thinking quick, she half-turned, throwing her little knife as hard as she could before diving around a corner and looking for a place to hide.

A convenient hollow in a tree seemed like the perfect place, and she squeezed herself in there prepared to wait until whoever was chasing after her gave up. A few hours later, once she was sure the coast was clear, she pulled out her phone and shakily typed up a message.]

Anyone know where I can get a new pocket knife? I threw mine at these lady-things who thought it would be fun to chase me down, and now I don't got one. Hope I don't end up needing that...

Oh yeah, my compass says I'm west, who all is in this area, anyway?

[Filter: Bastet, Isis, Ma'at & Nephthys]
My little cub has fallen ill! I think he caught the cold from a little friend of his. Send some love his way, okay?

[Filter: Cù Sìth]
HEY. YOUUU.

[Filter: Mordred]
Drinks, you and me! On the weeekend?

[Filter: Public]
I have an armadillo in my house. The cats don't know what to do with themselves. I haven't named him yet because if I have to get rid of him, it'll be SO HARD. He's CUUUTE.

This just in: I'm apparently a magician.

[He and Aubrey had only met briefly and at random after the odd things had started. Cù Sìth didn't like those odd things either. It made it very hard to work (and play tricks on the children that came in). He had to use all his focus on behaving, on not getting distracted. Was it distractions that made these things happen? He couldn't quite figure it out but not letting things get to him and behaving monotonously help.

Until, hours after he had met with Aubrey, he found himself somewhere very dark. It wasn't cramped at all, a rather spacious walk-in, but it did smell a lot like shoes from where he was sitting. Contrary to what some might thing, he didn't want to chew them up. A hound he had been but he was a human now. He had some limits. But he did kind of want to bury them. Tie them up at random if he could. Pull some of the laces out as well.

And with that in mind, he got to work, uncaring of how he got there for now or even whose closet it was.

When weird stuff happened, the best response was to hang out with someone who was just as weird- namely CuCu. Not that Aubrey knew that he was Cu Sith, but whatever. Details, small details that didn't matter for now. The fact is they had been playing when Aubrey had decided shoving Cu Sith was a good idea- the next moment the hound had vanished and she had begun shrieking bloody murder all the way back to her place.

In fact she was close to hyperventilating. Who to call? Jim? Her father? She had just made someone disappear into thin air- that was basically murder, wasn't it? Oh god it was. She took a deep breath and called 911. "Hello? I would like to report a missing person-"

While it started coherent it dissolved into hysterical rambling and shrieking... that could easily be heard from inside her closet.

In the midst of tying a boot to the inside of a jacket, he paused to listen to that noise, curious of why it was happening. It didn't sound familiar at first, him being unused to Aubrey sounding so genuinely panicked. But as he listened, it did sink in. Before doing anything else, he finished what he was doing and then moved to nudge open the closet door.

"Stop being so loud."

And it was one of those moments that should've been video recorded and sent to America's Top 10 videos. Aubrey started, too startled and then she shrieked and threw the phone at him (the phone that turned into a duck as it left her hand).

Feathers, shoes, and swearing like no-tomorrow. It was a special moment.

There had been something beautiful about her aim. He saw it coming but it was coming in too fast and it struck him right between the eyes. He yelped and clasped both hands over his face while stepping right back into the closet. Karma had been waiting for him with one of Aubrey's nicer boots right behind one foot. And backwards he went, down on a pile of heels.

This day sucked. So much.]

I'm trying to do an art project, and my charcoal keeps turning into feathers. What am I supposed to do with feathers?

[filter; private]
Dear mother, I'm doing an art project of your face. You'll never see it like you'll never see this, but I have to write it. Do you even care that I still love you? That I still try?

This is how I remember your face from my childhood. May you never see it.

[Filtered to Private]
I can't believe I'm doing this. Like, everyone here just seems crazy, or like...gross. But I totally need new friends right now...so...♥ I guess I could try.

[Public]
Hey, darlings. ♥ My name is Skylar. I don't think I know any of you, but I think some of you might go to school with me at NYU?~ I'm sure I'd recognize your fucking wretched lovely faces.

Now, who's nice enough to introduce themselves so I don't feel so alone, hm?

The last few months are this weird fuzzy blur, like if I drank continuously for them. However, this is all okay because I have bagels~ askdkadjaksdjalka and I love bagels.

[Ashes tip over into his lap, scattering across a thigh. Brushing them away would have to mean giving a shit, and Agravaine has no solitary fucks to give.

He hates being 'that brother', the one who gets emotional over another brother's death, but after Gawain's untimely one months ago, he isn't sure he wants to witness another one. Mordred was the last straw. Mordred, the one brother he cherished above all, dead. And then alive again. How much longer were they going to be played? Why were all the brothers he wanted alive dying, and the only one he wanted dead probably alive somewhere?

If it was really death. Agravaine doesn't believe in ressurrecting the dead, but then again, he didn't believe that a shitload of things could happen until they happened.

Top it all off with getting laid off from work, and he just really wants to fucking punch someone, so he smashes his last bottle of vodka into the kitchen wall and watches it explode into pieces.]

[filtered away from family (morgause & co, and pheme)]
I need a fucking drink. I just ran out.

My brother and I have managed ourselves a flat. Not the biggest thing on the market, but with the two of us, we don't need much space. The view is fantastic. That's about the only good best thing about it.

[filtered to pasithea, minos, helen, menelaus, zeus, syrinx, and mordred]
[address]

Buzz number is 1506.

Oh.

Ok. Back to this.

I'M BORED

You fucks are so unoriginal.

I mean fuck, setting half the city on fire and poisoning the water supply? Fucking lame.

Apparently it is very difficult for most people to engage their brain. Not impressed. mildly amused.

Glastheim was on fire. News of that couldn't be withheld, could it? The poisoning he didn't know about but he knew of the fire and reacted immediately.

He laughed. He laughed so hard he gained attention of those around him, people wondering if the soldier had just lost it. His amusement with the whole matter delighted him so, made everything else that could ever be lousy in his life appear manageable - easy. If he couldn't hunt within the next couple of weeks, that would be fine. If he was ordered to do a task of guarding someone annoying to him, he'd deal.

Glastheim was on fire.

Cù Sìth didn't care what anyone thought. This had made his fucking day.

[Filter: Private]

I feel sometimes like I'm trapped in a prison not of my own making. That is unfair. I didn't want this in my life, I wanted- well, that doesn't really matter now, does it? I'm Queen of Glastheim, and I'm worried someone might stab me when I'm not looking.

Mrr.

[Filter: Public]

I've been adjusting to this whether - to the food, and clothing. The transition isn't easy, but I'm not just adjusting but enjoying Glastheim and everything it has to offer.

Hello Ilium! Ilians, what do you loove about your region? Tell me!

My Luca is pawing at the
mommy said

It feels a little stupid to have to say this, but apparently people: 1. Aren't using their brains. 2. Aren't in possession of a brain. or 3. Don't know the point of a graveyard.

Playing hide and seek and using the graves I'm digging as a hiding place isn't smart or polite. The next person to do so might find out what it's like to get buried alive.

Just stay the fuck out of my graveyard.

Did you know that some people say the best things when they don't know someone else is listening? It's not my fault that I just happened to be chasing a kitten through the yard when I overheard two of the stable hands talking, but maybe if the taller one hadn't called me a brat and stopped me from catching a new pet I wouldn't feel like someone really needs to know his true opinion of certain nobility.

That reminds me, I want to take my horse, Rumour, for a ride, but I don't want to go alone. Are there any hunts coming up I can participate in? Also, father, can we get a pet?

Are we doing drawings now? Okay, give me a moment here.





THIS IS CÙ SÌTH.

I'm staying until the weekend. The time until and immediately after couldn't be considered time off for anyone. And I'm really damned sick of treating everyone with velvet gloves.

Kid, warn if you want to leave earlier. I'll prepare you an escort.

Everything about this place is cold and we are not yet arrived. Tell me a useful cure for cold toes.

Aside from that: this marriage is not an assimilation of cultures. It is a compromise or a contract or a duet. One party need not drown out the other. One needs only to see my twin sons to see how our respective strengths combine and compliment each other.

I like the weather in Glastheim. It's colder than Mictlan certainly, but I like it still. I enjoy burrowing into clothes

Dear diary,

I'm being shipped off to marry some douchecanoe person in a place with crappy weather and-



Oh bollocks. I spilled my ink again.


Can I go home now? I miss my bed, good food and not having to keep losing my pens. WHERE ARE ALL MY PENS.

A farmer's - or in this case the handsome, hardworking, son of a farmer - work is never done. At this rate I'll never catch a break.

[filter; hebe]
I found a book about stars, but I can't figure out all the words. Want to look at it with me?

[His fingers are filthy from digging up lord knows what but he doesn't care. He runs his fingers over the paper, over that particular crease above, knowing the dirty stains will show up on the paper.]

I see a cat. It's fluffy, lost half an ear. Bit dirty.

Shall I leave it alone? I think it may have given birth a couple of days ago. Four, five kittens. Unless that was another cat. Too many fucking cats. I like dogs. Better friends to man. And I'm a man. So dogs it is.

By the way, before anyone freaks out on me, I'm just asking a question. A weird one. I'm not telling you what I may or may not do. It could be nice. It could be mean. I'm not telling.

I'm going to suggest something completely mad: let's change the topic and not discuss this wedding. Shall we? Go.