| Defeated (tag: Nike) |
[08 Jan 2008|02:19am] |
Nothing was better, in Kray’s opinion, for forgetting your troubles than a good, solid work out. Especially with weight training, and as soon as he’d returned from the Underworld, he’d headed straight for his gym. It was what he needed right then. The repetitive motion, the concentration on physical effort, helped him make his mind blank. Nothing more than a stream of numbers, counting his reps, counting his breaths. It always helped him forget whatever was bothering him, at least for a little while.
( Perhaps because what he was trying to forget was… Lethe. )
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| Resolutions (tag: Makaria, then Loki) |
[08 Jan 2008|02:40pm] |
Warm. She was warm.
Still mostly asleep, Sigyn stretched slightly, one arm sliding out from beneath the covers into the cooler air of the room. Everything was hazy, soft around the edges, and warm. She was so very warm. But that was one of the hazards, she mused in her half conscious state, of being in bed with a fire giant.
Sigyn’s eyes flew open with that thought, to find herself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. So she hadn’t imagined it. Had she? Slowly, she turned her head, half expecting that she was still asleep and this was a dream. But no, there he was, lying beside her. It had truly happened. The night before had really occurred, from the date, to the admission of love, to what had happened afterward. It had all happened.
( She’d slept with her husband. )
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| Rock Bottom (Narrative) |
[08 Jan 2008|06:41pm] |
"Shh! Shh-sh-sh!" Dolos waved a hand in the air, energetically shushing the man whose binoculars he was borrowing, the strap tugging around the balding, middle-aged tourist's neck. "Oh, hell yeah, baby! You put that lotion on your friend's ba-"
"Hey, if you're going to use them this much maybe you should just get your own?"
"SHH! I'm trying to concentrate!"
"'Shh' nothing! You've been using them for fifteen minutes already! Why don't you just go buy a pair?"
Forced to answer. "Because you're a pussy and will just sit there and let me use yours." Compelled to answer.
"Oh fuck off, buddy!" The man stood then, tugging his binoculars back from Dolos' grip and immediately walked off in a huff.
Dolos grunted, rolled his eyes and stomped around in a small circle of frustration. A hand reached up to run through his hair, the other resting on his hip. He was standing on the boardwalk along a beach in sunny Malibu, California, dressed in a t-shirt, shorts, sandals and shades. And the collar. And a black scarf covering the collar, which wasn't at all out of place on a beach on a sunny day, and which was a very manly color. His t-shirt read 'I'll be using these to my advantage', in a size obviously meant for a female, but due to Dolos' impressive(ly nonexistent) pecs, it somehow made sense.
It wasn't that surprising anymore, the reaction that the tourist had just given him. People tended to get pissed pretty quick when confronted with the truth, which was probably the reason Alathea was such a bitch. Well, that and the bug stuck up her doughy ass. She probably received reactions like this all the time, but for Dolos it was different. He wasn't Truth, he was Trickery. That trickery, however, had been stopped in its tracks months ago by a rather unattractive pink collar fastened around his neck.
Months. As in, plural. As in more than one. As in many many. As in Dolos was on the verge of going nuts, mentally blueballed so long that were he an animal, he would've been shot and put out of his misery long ago.
( Or, someone else's. )
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