Who: Hecate and Open What: Nocturnal Ambulations When: Saturday Night Warnings: TBD
"Horizon blackening, twilight beckoning as the clouds are stretching wide. Stars still shining little holes that light is clawing to get through. But hope is shifting the shadows that are drifting on the ceiling as you move." she sang softly in that high, ethereal voice of hers. She had no idea if her voice carried or not, she couldn't hear herself over the sound of the music pouring through her earphones. "Shhh, just close your eyes and go to sleep." she whispered, smiling to herself as she closed the front gate of her home behind her and left the dilapidated looking victorian to begin her walk across the park, through the darkness.
It was different without her lampades, her torch bearers drifting in her wake. It was different without the baying of her hellhounds at her heels, but if she glanced away she could catch the hint of apparitions drifting along in her wake. They always came out when she walked, greeting she who once was mistress of ghosts. Times change, all things do, but her powers lingered on. People still spoke her name in worship.
The quiet, the shy, the kind-hearted, Hecate was still a whispered word of magic and she was grateful to her followers for that.
Black silk rustled as she moved, her heeled boots clicking softly with each step she took. The goddess looked like nothing more than an antiquated goth girl and that was how she preferred it, to blend, that she could see and feel with her own senses. She made her way across the mist shrouded park and out onto a busier thoroughfare, cars drifting slowly by, people ambling past upon the sidewalks. None spared her a glance. It was as she was most comfortable, invisible to most, though not truly so.
Her fingers touched a lamp post, the light within flickering. Old fashioned gas lighting, she approved the touch on a chill october evening. How she loved this month, this season. Across the street the lighthearted strains of a traditional Greek restaurant could be heard. She was not hungry, but she drifted nearer all the same. It sounded like the harvest festivals she barely remembered.