mythopoeics

god pizza is amazing who invented pizza man it's so good

OSSANNNNN how's the dog

It still hurts. It is nice to come home to someone who's missed you. I've named her Terra.

[filter; sisters]
Ares is here.

[One day earlier had marked an important moment in Hel's life. One minute she had been passing by a restaurant patio, when she'd heard those petty remarks she had grown so accustomed to in high school fly right behind her. Former classmates, she would discover upon turning around. They had been whores in school. They didn't dress any different now.

And without a word, her mother's reminder ringing in her ear, she strode over, took a fork off one of their plates, and stabbed it into the wood of the table mere millimeters from one of the girl's fingers. Just as silent as she'd come, she walked away, the sounds of shrieking following her with each step.]

I am not someone to be mocked. You don't mock me ever. You will treat the queen of the dead with respect.

Nyx laid in her hospital bed and staring at the ceiling. The beep of machinery kept her company. She reached over lazily and picked up a candy bar one of her family had brought her. She loved visits from family - they made the day so much more enjoyable. However most slept at night and now she lay awake, alone. She heaved a heavy sigh and looked sideways at the monitors. She was feeling better - the stitches looked like hell still, and she looked half dead, she swore she lost weight! - but she was feeling better. Even if she couldn't walk down the hall without falling against a wall for support.

Dark eyes focused on a spot on the wall as she tried to regroup. This invalid thing was for the birds. She pressed her finger down over the spot in her arm where the IV was and undid all the tape and wrappings, before taking the IV out. She grumbled and winced as it stung, before she hung it up on the IV pole. A deep breath later she was pulling the little electrode off her chest and letting it dangle loose. She was tired of this already. She got as far as pulling herself up and sliding out of bed before a nurse came rushing in and yelling at her for removing her IV and monitors. The nurse called for assistance and Nyx found herself threatened with straps to hold her in place. She meekly complied quietly, seething as they reinserted the IV in a new spot and hooked her back up.

I. Really. Am. Sick. Of. THIS.

Back for a week and already my brother's looking at me with puppy dog eyes because he can't figure out how to work the washing machine. The things I do...Then again, he was going to drive all the way home to make our mom do it, so I told him not to be stupid and I'd do it for him this time, but we'd have to work on teaching him how to do laundry on his own.

Nothing out of the ordinary, though. I guess I'll have to read and take notes on the things I missed even though I have time enough. Who knows when I'll have time to do it before we suddenly disappear to somewhere else. I still hate that woman. I'm the sun god. I am Ra and she just- I still want Sekhmet

[Filter: Bastet]
How are you? Should I even write this? Maybe not. Everyone's so-

[Filter: Set]
As it's doubtful you stayed in one place for very long, I suppose you're home by now.

How are you feeling? Physically. You won't want to talk emotions and that would be weird if we did that anyway You did well. I'm proud. Do I say this where he can see it? Probably not. His ego doesn't need to get bigger

[Filter: Andrus]
I'm glad you're back. For the record. I missed your one-worded responses and your dry sense of humor and your...side-eyeing. Something like that.

Do you want a copy of the notes from class when I make them?

[Filter: Lottie]
Want a copy of the notes from class when I make them?

She'd been more than detached from her own pantheon even after returned. The community had been abandoned for a while. Not entirely on purpose, though. There had been an incident with her laptop when one of her cats knocked it over but it had only motivated her to not look, to avoid and wallow in her sorrow for a while.

Just recently, she decided to look, not hoping to see any of the dead back. Some of them had died brutally. Maybe this time they might not return. But when she saw the posts, she bit her lip in guilt and regret.

It was time to visit Anubis.

When Gwynevere returned from England, she immediately attended to visits. Those who'd tasted the lash of Khaos's torture: Heimdall, Hector, Gawain, Athena, Tristan; outside of the hospitals: Kendra, Elaine, and Cordelia -- whoever among these was amenable, she went to see. So wrapped up was she in these devotions, to both these people and her missed work, that she did not bother to log on to the community very often nor contact anyone using it.

All the while, she tried not to think about the flat plane of her stomach and the accompanying emptiness. She tried not to remember the instant breakdown she'd had upon waking up in her childhood room, hands immediately shooting to caress a life that wasn't there and had never been there -- never would be there. She tried not to recall the condescending scolding of her mother as the woman surveyed the sobbing, hysterical mess Geula had consequently degenerated into or the clueless, well-intentioned attempts of her father as he grasped for whatever means of consolation he could offer for a problem he did not understand.

And she tried not to think of Mordred. She did not know if she wanted to see him (she did), but she made all the excuses not to. That she would not intrude on what his family was going through, a family wherein she was most certainly an unwelcome presence; that she, perhaps, would only be overstepping the tenuously built friendship they shared by approaching him on the basis of a false child, a false marriage, a false life. That she had been his father's wife, he her husband's son by another woman.

But the ultimate excuse and only valid one was that she was afraid, even though only he would understand. Morning upon morning, she would eye the Cheesy Wotsits and the Walkers Worcester Sauce Crisps in the corner of her pantry and wait for a courage that did not come. Then, ignoring the shameful burn of her own cowardice, she would shut the pantry door and think, Tomorrow.

[Filter: Tristan]

I am deeply sorry for what transpired and what I did. Are you well?

[Filter: Angels + Léonore]

When everyone's fully recovered, it might be a great time to have that dinner.

[Filter: Public]

For the next week, d'Orsay'll have free rounds for everyone here. Though you'll probably have to ask for me (Ed). Pretty difficult to tell your staff to go pro bono on reincarnates only.