mythopoeics

...Brothers. I pray so fervently that at least one of you is present. Or six, so I know which I

[There was nothing like a fresh start in ways. It was necessary if he was to move forward and find himself well several months or years from now. The obsession had to be cast aside, the ideas and fantasies needed to be washed off his mind and hands.

Troilus simply thought of how much better his mother would feel if she arrived and saw that he wasn't behaving in an abnormal way. To further boost his plan, he damned his sinful lust as something the gods would do, could get away with. Therefore, it would no longer be something he'd want for himself.]

It seems I'm rusty at the game of finding women who want to date and not just...well. There is nothing wrong with that but goddamn. Sometimes a little more doesn't hurt. I'm fucking thirty-one. When did it get hard? Is it because I want something real now? Or maybe it's the job that doesn't help.

Before it even comes up: I don't want anything to change me to suit today's women. Don't even go there. I'll go to Russia and find myself a bride if needed. ...jokes about mail-ordering on can be kept to yourselves and fuck you for thinking it.

[Their brief sojourn to the maze aside, Mordred had been floating through life in a sort of haze. While under usual circumstances that haze would be accompanied by the stale stench of booze and cigarettes, this time it was different - this time he was perfectly clear-headed, just operating on between two and four hours of sleep a day. Somewhere in there was the threshold between when the actual sleep stopped and the nightmares began.

He'd taken to staying cooped up in his condo, avoiding other people to the best of his abilities, and was currently on a conference call with his attorney in the process of working out details on his last will and testament. He couldn't live like this, not knowing that nothing he did could erase the nagging feeling that he should be dead. The knowledge that Merlin was here only increased his desire to rid himself of this mortal coil, the appearance of the druid fueling the paranoia that death had bestowed upon him.

He had to find a way to carry out his final wishes without anyone getting wise to what he intended, and that all began with systematically cutting himself off. From everyone.]

I'm looking to get rid of a few belongings. If anyone would like to assist me with that do let me know.

[Arthur had been quiet, and deliberately slow. When not caught up in the games of the mighty, he had escaped to England and spent a few weeks with his parents who were surprised but pleased to see him.

Arthur being Arthur, though, it wasn't in his nature to hide from problems for all that he yearned for peace and quiet. His sojourn in England hadn't solved any of his issues (and, oh, his issues wore such beautiful faces) and he returned to New York none the wiser.]

I'm back in Manhattan. I trust my absence wasn't any great inconvenience. Now, what and who have I missed?

[filter; polyxena]

Princess. I have been an utter boar and I'm sorry.

[filter; lancelot]

I think I am ready to talk now.

I am forty-something and I am bored. A most dangerous combination. Friday the thirteenth came and went with disappointing tedium and I am itching for a fight~

[filter; private]

Perhaps I can find some underlings who have misbehaved. A few bouts in the ring or in an alley might be just what I need, and I need my knuckles to split and bleed.