mythopoeics

[filter; visible to all greeks]

It feels as though it's time to do a headcount again. Children, brothers, sisters - who is here? My daughters - it's been far too long since we've had dinner together so pencil me in for Thursday evening. I look a fright but I hope you'll put up with me, nonetheless

[filter; blackwells]

If someone could explain to me why Reza and Dante thought it necessary each to bestow a black eye on me, I would appreciate it greatly.

The best musical moment in cartoon history. However, don't watch if you're afraid of clowns. I really need a gig or something to get me out of this apartment. Right now, I think I'd even take a semi-regular job. I should not have had enough time on my hands to actually seriously contemplate which video to choose.

I'm Jake. Some of you may know me as Apollo. Lazy ass musician and roommate to Gabe.

[Filter: Blackwell family]

Keep this man far away from me and my children. He goes by Connor Waldgrave but he's Loki. Don't let him know where I live, details of my life - anything that could come back and bite me.

No, I'm not going to fucking go into details about what is going on. Just please fucking do it and don't ask stupid questions.

[Filter: Private]

I don't care if I'm betraying him, he's lost his goddamn mind and I will not let my children get involved in this.

[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.

Anyone here like art? I've got an extra pass to [exhibit at the Met or something] if you're willing to brave the terrors of my company. And the risk of being my accomplice in a minor theft

Also, Freida-Pinto-slash-Rosario-Dawson lookalike, I'll be watching out for you. ♥ Don't let the concrete jungle stop us now.

[Filter: Euterpe]

I'm not much for Glee, but you posted about this song before. Not sure I like that rendition all too much, but the tenor/baritone take is pretty cool. The tenor does a great job. He is also taller, but that is beside the point.

[Filter: Athena]

I'd like to keep my word.

Well, that was fucking annoying. Days spent in a fucking maze, days I could have used to manage my business instead.

But it keeps repeating. It pushes onward, forward without sign of favour coming our way. Some of you believe in a God. Some of you believe in nothing but yourselves. Some of you have no idea of what all this is. What I want to know is why we've all been grouped together now instead of a previous life. Because I know in my previous lives I went through a normal life. As normal as a mortal's can be.

There have to be answers that can be found.

Children, speak to me. Tell me how you fare.

Bring back Zurvan. At least there, a man could die in peace.

One thing is for sure -- I've been turned off from camping for quite a while.

[Zeus has lived many lives. None shall ever equal his first life; his true self. He has always endured, believing fervently that he will be restored to his former glory (that he will restore himself). His death in Zurvan wasn't the most painful death he has experienced but it might be one of the most unnatural. It was not a death that took. It disgusts him that nothing is sacred, not even death. Not even the long, cold sleep.

When he is returned to New York, he learns that his business ventures have proceeded unimpeded. That he has hired and fired two personal assistants. The latest, number three, wears too-short skirts and he fires her, too, having had his way with her over his desk.

It is too easy for him to sleep into his old ways of want-and-take-and-have. These first few days, he is purely selfish. He lives for the sake of living and for the sake of feeling. Nails scraping down his back, rough callused hands, drinking champagne from clever mouths. He needs these things to restore himself. He is a careful man, as a rule, but there are precautions not taken; he is the Father of Gods and Men. What is another bastard child or two?

Finally, emerging from some kind of cocoon of slumber and beautiful women, in a penthouse suite in Boston, he showers and he returns to New York. He is Zeus. He will not be beaten by a fake death (though all the subsequent little deaths have not helped in the least.)

It is time for bravado. It is time to wear the face of Zeus and the substance of Zeus will surely seep back into his veins. He will not be overcome.]

Family, family. It was just a flesh wound.

[Zeus' handwriting is shaky now and this takes him a long time to write. His skin has taken a rather grey tone and his breathing is laboured. These are his final points of business]

To Svarga; faction members, subjects: I am dying. Let's say no more of it other than it is the truth. I do not expect to see sunset, now that the evenings have begun to stretch out.

To my children; all of you, whether you're from this life, the last, the first or any of the others: I am proud of you. Be careful what you drink. I love each of you and why should I not, when you are manifestations of myself?

To the Blackwells: Listen to Maud. She's probably right on most things. Emilia. I hope it was good for you.

To Katie: I have been blessed to have had you. I am sorry.

Goodnight, Zurvan.

[Filter: Family (Zurvan, NYC, original)]

Ahhh, it is so delightful to be myself. How do my beloveds fare~?

[Filter: Mictlan Top Ranks]

Countrymen, I realize I am the odd one out amongst us. Still, we live in the same castle and so begs the question - how are we, and what are we to do about Camlann? Or are we going to drop the Mictlan thing entirely on account of its being false?

added after speaking with Artemis [Filter: Zeus]

We're going to see you in the Big Apple, pops. They can't keep us here for much longer.

[filter; children of zeus]
Which of you can see this?

[filter; zeus]
Father?

[Hello, memories. Memories of being married to another man, memories of the lovely pest known as Loki and having his children. Combining those with the current.

This would not go well.]

OH FUCK NO

FUCK YOU ALL FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

I AM GOING TO KILL SOMETHING ZEUS I WILL END HIM NOW

[Zeus has been quiet lately because - well. To say that Zeus is not well is like saying that it gets a little cold in Glastheim. His physicians do not give him much time. More than hours but probably not days.

And, so, he's been closeted in his offices, avoiding everyone but his closest administrative staff, ensuring that everything - the line of succession, his will, every state secret - is in order. The time has come now, though, to let his family and his faction know.

His penmanship is as firm as ever. It is not the writing of a dying man. He is dying, though, and he's not so arrogant as to believe that everyone will mourn him.]

[filter; angrboda]

Yes, I have been avoiding you. Yes, it has been cowardly of me. We have a situation. I have no doubt that black will suit you, my dear.

My physicians tell me that I have been poisoned. One of them theorises that it is from the Glasthein water supply. Whatever the case, I do not have much longer.

[filter; right hand, diplomat, general; visible to angrboda]

It appears that I am dying and soon. Poison which, I am told, is a woman's weapon. Speak to the healers for details. Support my son.

[filter; hypnos]

My son. I'd hoped to spare you this for a few more years at least but you will be ascending to the throne of Svarga imminently. I am dying. It seems that this year is the year for regicide. Be careful what you drink.

Come and see me this afternoon.

[filter; sigyn]

My darling girl. I miss you already. I hope that you shall not miss me even more. I would travel to tell you if I could but I do not have the luxury of time. I am dying - poison. I gather it will get much worse before the end. Please know that you have always made me proud.

[filter; artemis, hebe]

Daughters. There is no easy way to tell you this and I am sorry that it comes at such a time of turmoil. I have been poisoned and am likely to be dead within days, if not sooner. You will be taken care of, I promise. Be happy, my girls. You have a proud father.

[filter; pestilence]

If you can, come to Svarga. I may be dead before you arrive. I have been poisoned but speak with my healers when you are come. Perhaps you can help them uncover the truth of the matter.

Do not limit yourself, my son. You are destined for great things.

So. I had a vase with some water in it. Dead flowers were already tossed so I figured I'd toss the water out the window. No harm, just water that smelled a bit peculiar. In that rose-stalk way. I popped the window open with my elbow and pitched it.

'It' being the whole fucking thing and not just the water (my hands were wet, alright?). Then I heard someone curse. I imagine it caught someone. Didn't hear about anyone having died-by-vase so couldn't have been that bad. Right?

So. I wanted to say this to whoever I unintentionally hit: You're bad at paying attention to your surroundings. You deserved that.

That's all.

[Filter: Zeus]

It's warm. I think I can feel my toes. I want to go back to Glastheim and freeze myself before it's too late.



[ooc: if you want your character to have been accidentally struck while near the palace in Svarga or something, go for it.]

[Filter: Heimdall]

You know, I think I'm catching a cold because of the weather.

[Filter: Zeus]

I'm afraid.

One of my sons gripped my fingers and smiled.

I'm proud to be a father.

How lucky are we to have such an interesting system of communication! I admit, I've found myself fascinated by nearly everything people have written, but perhaps I'm just easily amused.

There are worse things in life~

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.

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.

Apparently, my daughter was been found sneaking out of lessons and slipping into the yard so she could learn to ride. A maid brought this to my attention. I think she was expecting me to be upset. Not grateful that she didn't do like some and sneaked into a nearby forest or lake. Hm.


Dad, we will be coming to the marriage. Closer to the date but we will.

[ filter; zeus ]
In the interest of not wanting to see Svarga fall apart with all of these absences, I'd be willing to stay and hold down the fort until after the wedding.

[ filter; pheme ]
If our good king agrees to it, I'm going to be as far away from this wedding as possible. I'm sending you with Skadi to Glastheim in my place. Bring your warmest clothes or you'll lose fingers. She leaves with the bride mid-week.

Fuck getting married. FUCK IT.

So, the weather is nice.

It's a beautiful night. I am sorry it's so beautiful after what's happened.

filter; raven
Can we meet at the stables tonight? Please?

[filter; angrboda]

I expect your immediate departure for Svarga, my Queen.

[filter; heimdall]

Commiserations, of course. Do you wish the wedding to be postponed? Answer carefully-

[filter; public]

There are times when ruling is like moving the bag of grain, the fox and the chicken. Something will get eaten.

[filter; agrat bat mahlat]

I am summoning my wife to court. It makes me yearn for you to warm my bed tonight. She has cold toes.

[(is this thing on?) (flick to video feed) Zeus' expression is sombre and his tone is quiet and only those who know him can likely tell how angry he is, though the flickering of the video feed gives away a little of his state of mind]

This is not ideal, to say the least. I propose we gather together. Strength in numbers might not matter a damn but we all have our abilities, diluted and lessened though they are. I refuse to cower under a bed or hide at the end of a bottle. We're going to Dylan Thomas this bitch, you hear? Though the night may not be good, we'll not go gentle, either.

Blackwells. Maud and Milly. Dante. Reza. Gregory. My Katie. Olympians. Demi-gods. Heroes and beauties, children of mine. We'll not go gentle.

There are others here, I know. Different Pantheons. I do not see your kings here and perhaps therein lies your hope. Come now. Be strong. (Rage.)

To the lobby is the worst battle cry ever uttered but it's where I'll be.

[Khaos' words would've normally ruined Hebe. Had her heart running a thousand miles, or pacing nervously. But instead she was quietly resigned, having been happier in the last week or so than she could remember. If death was coming, she'd let it take her. How could she fight against something like death? How could anyone?

It was coming, and she'd accept that.]

[Filter: Family, immediate or otherwise]
They're just words. I know. But if something, if it's true

I love you all. but i don't want to be alone, someone come be with me

[Comforting the living relations of the deceased, the underworld, decay - she was once responsible for such things and more. If death had been coming for her under normal circumstances, perhaps she would have accepted that, would have said her good-byes and let it happen.

This was normal or right. This was some goddess - some Greek goddess - on a power trip apparently. Something had to be done and someone had to at least get the ball rolling.]

[Filter: All except Khaos & her helpers]

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I am not a leader. I dislike it and I find I don't do well in such a position. However, I do wish to stress that that announcement cannot be tolerated.

Does anyone have any ideas? Any at all?

Now I couldn't help but notice that I've been snowed in. Happy Christmas to me.

Though we're pretty much stuck here, building pillow fortresses and making out in the office, let's not be entirely put out, eh?

I'm just going to go ahead and ram Christmas spirit right up your faces. Say 'Merry Christmas', or whatever equivalent, in as many languages as possible. Top of your head, people. No Googling.

I'd go ahead, but that'd be more languages for everyone else, right? No fun in that.

Bring your worst!

Blackwells, front and centre. I have paintball equipment and I'm not afraid to use it.

(There is no way out. Save yourselves, &c)

[filter; greek deities & their offspring]

I trust you are all healthy and safe. Pheme, I commend you on your pyjamas. If we are still here come Christmas Day, I propose we select the least mischievous floor and meet there.

(Or, perhaps the most mischievous, if my son Hermes has his way~?)

[Rather than Hebe's voice coming in, what does come in is the sound of a man singing. Even to someone who isn't a carol expert, it's clear that's he's drunkenly singing "Deck The Halls" with all of the wrong lyrics. Ten seconds later, a woman joins in. After about a minute, the feed cuts out, but not before Hebe's laughter is caught.]

Emilia, I'm coming to you for Christmas. Y/Y? I'm bringing Gregory and Reza, whether they like it or not. I can't cook so I'm bringing alcohol.

On that note, what do all the little Blackwells want in their stockings? I know what I want~

My Christmas will go a little like this:
ONE. Midnight Mass
TWO. Home to investigate whether Gregory has been naughty or nice
TWO. Morning Mass
THREE. Emilia's for food
FOUR. Evensong
FIVE. And hopefully by then someone will have acquired the Doctor Who Christmas Special for me.

Eeeevey: ONE, TWO, FOUR?
Agrat, my own: New Year's Eve. I'm booking you for shenanigans of the highest order.

I have no idea what to do this year for Christmas. I suppose I'll find something to watch on television or go see a movie.