Adonis (cultish) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-05-04 13:30:00 |
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Current music: | Adonaïs: An Elegy on the Death of John Keats |
where was lorn Urania/When Adonais died?
Who: Adonis and Urania
Where: Urania's residence
When: Monday night
Warnings: TBA
Stay yet awhile! speak to me once again;
Kiss me, so long but as a kiss may live;
And in my heartless breast and burning brain
That word, that kiss, shall all thoughts else survive,
With food of saddest memory kept alive,
Now thou art dead, as if it were a part
Of thee, my Adonais! I would give
All that I am to be as thou now art!
Urania.
Adonis barely remembered his death. He didn't know who had mourned him. He didn't know if Urania had truly wept over him or if it had been Aphrodite. Or both of them. Or neither. Truly, after thousands of years, Adonis was surprised he could even remember the pain of the boar's tusks ripping apart his groin. But Shelley had written beautiful, mournful words about his death and the mourning of Urania and they were a part of him, as all of his art was a part of him. In the elegy, Urania was his mother, was Venus Urania and the melding of Adonis' two most beloved, the melding of his two greatest desires, had Adonis weak and needing her presence, her starry light, her love. For if it had been Urania who had mourned him so, even if he couldn't remember it, Adonis felt as if he should be prostrating himself at her feet and thanking her for all she had done for and to him.
Hopefully, he could avoid doing so tonight.
Hopefully.
Adonis remembered the arms that had encirled him but who had they belonged to? The question weighed heavily on his mind, almost as heavily as the question of who had sent the boar had weighed on his mind for literally ages. Adonis merely sighed, clasping a cigarette between his teeth as he looked deep into his closet to find something suitable to wear. Settling on a navy blue suit that matched the colour of the sky as twilight faded into true night and the stars began to appear, he stubbed out his cigarette into the ashtray by his bed before getting dressed slowly and inspecting himself in the mirror. A slight frown and a tilt of his head and his hair was a touch lighter, curling softly the way it had during the old days, Adonis running trembling fingers through it with yet another sigh.
It would have to do.
Feeding Theias, he left quickly, able to find his way to Urania's without even needing directions. She called to him, as Myrrha called to him, as Aphrodite called to him but her draw was a mix of Mother and Lover. Stopping only at a little Greek wine shop to purchase the oldest bottle they had, Adonis found her building and climbed up the stairs slowly to the top floor. Pausing outside her door, he raised a finger to his lips, biting down lightly and letting a drop of his blood fall to the floor. This had never been an easy task; the task had fallen to others upon his death but Adonis was gorged with the power that he had been taking from College. Ten seconds later, the blood bloomed into a scarlet anemone and Adonis bent to scoop it up off the floor before knocking quietly.