Thalia (muse_amused) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2010-07-14 18:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | thalia |
Who: Thalia and the Korybantes Samothrakioi [narrative]
When: May 30 - July 14, after this.
Where: Newark, New Jersey
Warnings: It's long. Sorry.
The sky was an inky blue outside, the sun still hidden below the horizon, when the silence of the house and its sole, sleeping occupant were broken by the sound of knocking. It was not a polite knock, not the apologetic tapping of somebody very much aware of the hour and the fact that they were pulling people out of bed -- this was loud and persistent, rapping out an erratic rhythm against the door.
Nick rolled over in bed with an indistinct mumble, which soon became a groan when he managed to get the display up on his cell phone. It was 4:14 in the morning.
Cursing aloud, he flopped back against the pillow. He pondered whether he could be bothered getting up, and decided that he couldn't. Chances were, it was just some boozed-up kid come to spew all over his feet anyway. They'd get tired and go away in a minute.
They didn't. As one minute ticked over into two the knocking only grew louder, until it had become a full-fisted thumping, still with that same uneven beat. Annoyance won out over weariness. Grumbling loudly, Nick threw back the covers and began feeling around for a pair of pants.
By the time he had made his way to the door, Nick was in a decidedly foul mood. Still rattling off expletives in his head, he grasped the handle and yanked it open so sharply that the knocker started and almost toppled forward. Out of instinct he moved forward to steady the person, but the raggedy figure caught herself at the last minute, staggered against the door jamb, and shot Nick a lop-sided grin. Recognition hit him with a jolt.
"Ma?"
The grin widened, all teeth and no mirth. "Hey, baby."
Nicholas Thrace, formerly Kouros, youngest of the Korybantes of Samothrace, and ever the son of Apollo and Thalia, stared disbelievingly at the woman on his doorstep -- this pale, dirty creature with his mother's face.
"I got a joke for you," Thalia said. Her voice was cracked, and disconcertingly blank.
"Jesus Christ, Ma, what happened to you?"
Thalia ignored him, continuing in that same, expressionless voice, her eyes focussed on a point beyond her son's left shoulder. "'S called, 'Just Bend Over and Take It, or: A Comedic Representation of an Epic History Detailing the Praises of a Tragic Song and Dance Through Time and Space. And Sex.' Can't forget the sex."
"Have you been drinking? You're not m-- Jesus, you're bleeding!"
"An' the subtitle," she went on as though he hasn't interrupted, "The subtitle is, 'Why God Doesn't Give a Shit, and Neither Should You.'"
"Ma, come on-- Come inside. We'll get you cleaned up." Nick -- Kouros -- reached out to take her softly by the arm, but Thalia jerked sharply away from his hand.
"Wait, wait, lemme finish. Please. It's a good one, I promise…"
There was a desperate edge to her voice that made Kouros start. He had never seen her like this before.
"Okay, Mom," he said softly, in what he hoped was a reassuring voice. "Okay. Tell me the joke."
"Right. Joke. So the joke starts, and there's this--" she paused, seeming to lose her train of thought for a moment. "Yeah. Some people walk in -- it's a bar, I said that bit, yeah? They go into the bar, these--" another pause; Thalia was frowning now. "Well, they're not really people. But it's not really a bar anyway, so it's-- okay, the important thing is that a thing goes into another thing, and the thing, the first thing, not the second thing, the original thing says…"
She stopped again. In the half-light, Kouros could see the worry etched into her face, sliding towards real distress. "Fuck me," she whispered.
"Ma." Kouros stepped forward, ready to steady her. Thalia didn't seem to notice him.
"I don't remember. I can't remember the fucking joke."
"It's okay."
"It's not okay. Jesus. It was there, it was right there. In my head, I had it." Her eyes found her son's for the first time, red-rimmed and pleading. "It was a good joke," she insisted, again.
Kouros had cleared the small space between them, moving slowly so as not to spook her, and now he wrapped one arm around his mother's shoulder. She was cold under his touch, and at that moment she seemed terribly small.
"I know, Ma," he said quietly. "C'mon. Let's go inside and you can tell me all about it."
This time, she followed him without protest.