| Adrift (tag: Asklepios & Philammon) |
[18 Jan 2008|02:03pm] |
Lottie had waited for her. Sitting on the porch swing, watching Zed put yet another dent in his truck, Friendship sat waiting for Oizys, certain her sister would come to her. After all, not only had she bailed after the closet-makeover mess, Lottie was absolutely certain she must be tugging at her sister pretty hard. She was miserable.
Then again, a lot of other people probably were right now too. It was selfish of her to expect Oi to come just to her, even though it would have made Lottie feel better to see her. Which, logically, sounded backwards, wanting to see Misery in order to feel better, but it was the truth. It had nothing to do with what Oizys did, but with what she was.
( She was her sister. )
|
| Let us go in, the fog is rising. (Amherst, Massachusetts, Tag: Nike) |
[18 Jan 2008|03:00pm] |
The little 18th century Italianate homestead stood by itself on a hill overlooking a small river stream. Sheltered from the naked eye by a forest of pine and firs, the homestead was the sanctum that she returned to away from the prying eyes of both God and Man. The foliage that covered the house seemed to grant a certain impreviousity that she had desired away from Helios and Selene's eyes.
Here in the wilderness of New England, was the one place where she felt safe now. At least out here, there would less of the constant warfare applied to citylife where her townhouse was- the constant need to fight for air, for speed, for food, for money and for space. The city where even the basest of basic needs was a prized commidity. At least out here, it was just her and her alone.
Having chosen not to impose on Asklepios further, Athena spent the last couple of days resting and watching herself. Part of Prudence in War was also knowing the turning phases in warfare. Though rather uncharacteristic of her, it took a conscious effort on her part not to move too much lest the wound reopened. It was also to her chagrin that the wound did restrict her movements as well - and that was the biggest challenge to Athena for even her sedentary pasttimes of weaving and spinning required considerable freedom was not for hers now.
Resting on a lye chair in her sunroom, Athena drowsed on the pile of cushions , the bit of bandage peeking over the edge of her robe and in her hands, a half finished patchwork quilt.
|
| Comfort [tag: Tyr] |
[18 Jan 2008|10:26pm] |
She woke in what she could only assume was Nanshe's room, laid out upon Nanshe's bed and her eyes taking a moment to translate everything she was seeing into the single possessor of 'Nanshe's.' This was entirely different from when they lived in London. Then Nanshe had wanted to live among the poor in a fashion very similar to the poor; this home in Delhi was not set up that way. It was far from drab and mediocre, uncomfortable.
The color itself was resplendent and comforting. Enough so that with the combination of the extremely comfortable bed beneath her frame mixed with the soothing decor, Balance easily was lured back into the welcome of sleep.
An hour, or two, or more - she didn't know, before eyes fluttered open again and a slow smile began to form. Pleasant dreams, very happy dreams of a nature she couldn't recall having before. Dreams that left her quite warm and a little embarrassed with hope that if Morpheus did pay them any heed, he wouldn't mention any part of it. Harmonia could not be blamed for such thoughts... no matter how naughty they might seem. She liked Tyr, even with as little she knew about him, ( and even though the situation had been far from desirable, she did kind of like the sight of him... )
|
| | |
