mythopoeics

[Filter: Mnemosyne]
I never told you how much I miss

[Filter: Hades]
I hope we're at least sharing the distress here.

[Filter: Ryujin]
Your grace, is there anything else you need me to do here?

[Filter: Merlin]

I want to be clear about something.

Thieves come in all sorts of flavors, don't they? This one knew how to swing, but I got him in the nose. The market should have better security.

[ filter: private ]

Parental rights do not overrule legal authority, no matter how much Mother insists otherwise. Especially when her concerns are nonexistent and ludicrous.

...I will never understand women. Maybe it's for the best that the wedding's off—

[ end filter ]

Not that I expect anything useful out of the riffraff here, but - Does anyone happen to know how to deal with unwanted guests? Logical reasoning doesn't seem to be effective.

I've been accused of working far too much and speaking far too little. This means I haven't been keeping contact as well as I should. Hopefully nothing incredibly damaging happened while I was busy?

And I could definitely use something to eat. When was the last time?

I might have your dog, daughter. One of colleagues' bitch had a litter last week. If you like, we can check it for one who likes you.

As soon as I'm done preparing everything for the market. Few hunt the old-fashioned way nowadays, I don't know why I bother doing these at times.

Hemera had never had the habit of being a chatterbox until she started working actively in the inn. And even after that small number of years, the girl had never managed to learn of her personal issues which – in her own mind - were hardly enough to worry over. She could tell them to Ma’at, she supposed. The older woman was the only mother she remembered and she acted accordingly. But she seemed so busy at times – like her father was – it really was bothersome to tell her the little things of her life.

Still, she wondered. Mnemosyne had already left the house, Hel would soon follow; only her and Lethe would remain behind. And her sister was older, more developed; she’d leave and only Hemera would live with her parents. A little part of her was jealous of that. She didn’t begrudge her sisters’ happiness. She just wished it for herself too and, sometimes – particularly when some of the inn’s most regulars would pat her head as if she was a child, commenting about how she was always the same, immutable, short, pint-sized – she wasn’t sure it’d happen.

Was she happy? Lethe had asked her that. Yes, Hemera supposed she was. A nice life, protective parents, caring sisters; it was a lucky path she was in. Good things would come when they came. She just had to be patient.

Patience sucked big time though.

The dress had been discovered. Heimdall was finding it hard not to be worried. He hid from Sigyn whenever together but the rest of the time he was in constant awareness. Any other way and they would be caught; something he wouldn’t put her through, not after this being his fault, his sin, his responsibility. And he loved this girl, this wisp of a woman who had come from virtually nowhere and found her place in his life against his better judgment.

So he hid, he planned, he did his best to keep his ears open in case he was needed somewhere before war broke out. Because he didn’t war, he just wanted her, selfish or not. In his mind, they could be happy like this, working odd jobs here and there, never important, never more than normal people. If only they allowed it. They being, of course, her father and everyone from that blasted region.

“You are all done, sir.”

Heimdall rose from the chair he had been sitting for the past hour, accepting the mirror the man gave him with the faintest hesitation. His hair had always been a light brown, a touch lighter, almost blond in the right light. Now it was black, longer than he had ever used. It was a silly little thing to do, probably useless. It was a precaution though. And of many silly little things his protection would be woven until the day he could come out and speak his name, say she was his and he was hers and none should speak against it. Until then, he’d hide and pretend.

[ Some days, the woman wondered what had possessed her to do something as stupid as marrying. Skadi hadn’t needed a man to keep her bed warm, hadn’t needed the financial stability which could have followed marriage. She was from a strong family, independent women raised to provide and fend for their own. Her sister, for example, was one of such breed, powerful as any Skadi would ever see.

Still, it was expected of the woman to marry and so she did; nodding to the social convention. And being one of five wasn’t as impossible to stand as one would think. It meant she had less time to be bothered by her husband while he fooled around with one of the others. Gave her a wide berth to do as she wished, when she wished; to raise their girl like she had been raised. It also meant she had to return home eventually, place her weapons to the side, laugh at the shocked look of the other wives when they noticed the blood splatters on her - otherwise - immaculate clothing.

Some days, Skadi knew. If it had been anyone weaker than Minos, she would have killed him after the first night. She wondered if he knew that. ]

I'm home.

I am thinking very seriously in hiring someone to guide me around for protection. While I can guard myself well enough, I don't have eyes in the back of my head and losing wares every time I turn to show something to a customer is slightly annoying.