Who: Orpheus (orphic and Hecate (bytorchlight) Where: Hecate's home When: Thursday evening What: A meeting? Warnings: unlikely
Lyrics of Winterborn sung softly under her breath, a quick and haphazard sweep and dust of her home for she was expecting a guest at any time now. As was her custom she had put on a kettle for tea and then had gone to tidy, music pouring into only one ear so she could hear the doorbell anyway. The feel of another immortal coming would likely be enough though, even without the bell.
She had warded her demesne, and it's grounds. Some had access, the one invited for the evening had full access, he could stop by without an official invitation. There was only a handful that she allowed that sort of access, for her own safety and for her privacy. Even mortals would find themselves feeling a sense of foreboding if they approached without her blessing. Such was the nature of the dark goddess, hermit that she is.