mythopoeics

Gwynevere of Camelot, you must have someone who wants you more than I to have escaped me. But there will be other days. This isn't over. My axe will find a target. And if it can't be you, it will be another.

Blood will be spilled. These grounds will revel in the taste.

Dream well tonight. And you will know what I mean by that.

( out there a lonely girl could drown )

[Asmodeus was well enjoying himself in the maze. He loved his life, enjoyed his work, but this was a nice little vacation. Well-deserved, really. The puppy back in his apartment should have come along with him. He'd have liked this as well.

And then Cihuateteo ruined everything, appearing out of no where, forcing him to run and leap across streams. He'd even ended up on hands and knees, crawling under some ruins and then holding his breath until the danger had passed. It was well over an hour later when he opted to speak out about the matter.]

I think...someone tried to kill me. She was a very, very lovely woman but, still, she had twin daggers. I'm not really sure I want to know where she wanted to plant them. I'm slightly offended that she even wanted to. Wasn't Raphael being a little bitch bad enough for multiple lifetimes?

Ah well. I have peaches now. ...but I lost my compass. Last I recall, I was in the south. Frankly, I think I probably still am. I'll just use the sun and the stars. Somehow. How annoying.

To the fool who lost his compass: I tried to snatch you. My blades would have found a way to mark you, to make it known to all you were hunted. But it appears some of you have gotten a bit clever at dodging us.

How many days do you think this might last? Do you pray less than two weeks? Less than a month? Do you think your prayers can be heard at all?

What will you all miss while you're here?