Atë (recklessate) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2010-09-18 22:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | ate, george |
WHO: Ate & Saint George
WHEN: Friday evening
WHERE: A Manhattan cafe
WHAT: Reuniting Ruin and her Knight
It had been the eighteen-fifties, hadn't it?
Ate was sitting at the bar of the restaurant, pondering dates and places and she was sure it must have been the eighteen-fifties when she'd met George. Or had it been the forties? It was definitely before Mark though, she was sure of that. Because she'd just escaped that mob in Washington that tried to hang her, and she remembered that well. How could she forget? That was the moment when she'd realised that she was nothing in this land, not really. That was when Ate had realised that she was not the God she had once been, a painful and horrible realisation.
On the bar in front of her there was a box, wrapped in purple wrapping paper and inside a present for George when he arrived. She'd even bought it and not stolen it! (Although she had gotten Apate to give her a credit card to use, but it was the non-murderous thought that counted.) Meeting him to hand it over was much better than sending it, but she refused to admit just how bouncy she was to get to see him. (She hadn't thought of him for a century or more but now that she'd remembered his existence she was quite pleased about it.) It wasn't too surprising he'd agreed to meet her - unlike most immortals she'd crossed paths with that were unlike herself, Ate had never struck out at George. Not once had she attacked or harmed him. She'd barely even been tempted by the thought. (Sheer luck, Ate supposed, that their meeting had come at the time of her mid-life crisis.)
Ate turned once more to look at the door and this time there he was, coming in, and Ate jumped up from her seat with a wide beaming smile and darted over to him, not giving him much time to prepare before she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and planting a quick kiss on his lips. "Hello, Georgie!"