| Invocation (Inanna) |
[27 Jan 2008|11:10am] |
It wasn't any of his business who Nanshe invited to her home, was it? That was the rub. Shamash didn't think she was trying to make him feel insignificant, but he felt caught up in something he couldn't control. What he could do, he was doing. Etching the alad into clay tablets and staring across the room at nothing, while the children could be heard outside. Removing the police vehicle was no trouble once he'd come back to himself. And now here he was, wondering when it would start. Wondering when it would end. Something told him... something told him that it wouldn't be that bad. Hope, maybe, or just a foolish wish on his part? Truth... the truth was ... complicated. Knowing the truth, hearing it, feeling it in your bones was only half the battle. Making people see it, making people understand it, that was the biggest problem. When you said truth people believed you were talking about philosophy.
( His truth was based on facts. )
|
| Thunder, and a Chance for Showers (tag:Thor) |
[27 Jan 2008|03:40pm] |
OOC note: Warning! NSFW-pronz!
She awoke to sunshine filtering through the draperies in her bedroom. Smiling, she turned her body carefully, trying not to wake him. She gazed on her sleeping husband, lying beside her with the blankets pushed down to below the waist, to that dented spot where his legs joined his torso. Her eyes traveled up to his chest, his well-muscled chest, with a fair smattering of hair. Enough to look masculine, but not so much that he looked like some sort of animal. His arms, arms that had held her long after they had both been spent, and sleep finally came to capture them. Her eyes continued up to his lined face, so content in sleep. His mouth...the things he had done with his mouth last night still took her breath away when she thought on it. His eyelids, moving in his dream state. His long, blond hair, in a tousled array on the pillow. She reached up carefully to gently lift the few stray strands laying across his forehead.
|
| Well, Here I Am (narrative) |
[27 Jan 2008|07:18pm] |
If this was death, Artemis was far from impressed.
Being forced into Concept like that was bad enough, but she found the place a bit boring. There was really nothing she could do while she healed and formed a new corpus. All she could do was wait. And think.
( Her only comfort was that it wasn't baseball season. )
|
| | |
