mythopoeics

I wake up because my cellphone is going off. After taking a couple seconds to realize that I have a cellphone again, I turned it off and went to class, where I started babbling excuses at my professor.

Who looked at me like I was insane.

So my question is this: who's been going to class for me these past two months?

Don't mind me. I just want to try something.

For the record, yes, I am Theseus. Yes, I probably have fucked you over. And ate your lamb. It was delicious.

[Filter: Children of Theseus (Zurvan, NYC, myth) + Pirithous]

Daddy is saying hello, kids. Don't be shy. Come to Papa. Also, tell me who your mother was so I know if you're from Greek times, New York or now.

So I think I might be dead.

Worse has happened.

... I'll just sleep it off.

The turn of events is interesting, but hardly enough to shake him. Hades is not the type to care about the silly concerns of the people exploding all over the journals. There is curiosity, to be sure. But concern? Hardly.

He remembers names like Minos and Thanatos cropping up. But he will not condescend as to approach them, no. Why should he bother approaching his subjects? As of yet, they are unneeded. And even so, without their powers, they are utterly replaceable.

There is the one, however, who is not. Her age might present a problem, Hades considers, but she will simply have to suck it up. He isn't about to play the comforting husband - if she wants that, she can scurry along to her father in that blastedly humid jungle region.

Should he write to her? Ah, but what would be the point? Surely the cloistered girl is somewhere in Mictlan. The lackadaisical messenger should be preoccupied by the castle overrun with Arthurian homosexuals (they have shared each other and shared a queen - how Greek), and the Norse brother is far, far away in Glastheim.

No, Hades will find Persephone. And she will bow to him, whether or not she likes it. He is not a cruel man nor has he ever been known to dole out undue punishment, but when he does punish, oh, does he punish.

She will know better than to oppose him, he hopes. He'd regret having to mar that pretty face.

[Filter: Private]

What is going ON in Ilium? Oh Gods, none of that is good. At all. It does not spell good things for the rest of us if that is how they handle their problems over there.

And I thought Svarga was the unstable one.

[Filter: Public]

So.



Ok. No. This is a bad idea. It's not like any of us can think of anything else right now except...yes. That.



[ooc: revolt is not over, not yet, but presumably news is hitting other regions of it. so chat away, make posts, etc.]

[Sometimes she wishes she had the tolerance to go travel across the regions and see Baldr, Nanna and little Killian. Though Mictlan was a lovely place, she was the worst among her family when it came to having seen the world. But she dreaded the cold, even feared it. Simply to think about it soured her mood. But if not Glastheim, then Svarga! Or Ilium. Even nearby Camlann.

Yet no opportunities came. No chances, no way for her to do it on her own. Never would she pester Hermes or Baldr about this. It wasn't easy to go up to either and announce she felt very sheltered and unworldly. What could they do aside from offer to take her somewhere or send her off with someone? She didn't want to be that sibling. That sister. The one who had to rely on them for everything. It was called pride.

But her curiosity burned and perhaps if someone could paint a picture for her with words, maybe that would be enough.


How unlikely.]

[Filter: All EXCEPT family (in-laws included)]

How many of you have never left your region?

I'm just curious.

So. I had a vase with some water in it. Dead flowers were already tossed so I figured I'd toss the water out the window. No harm, just water that smelled a bit peculiar. In that rose-stalk way. I popped the window open with my elbow and pitched it.

'It' being the whole fucking thing and not just the water (my hands were wet, alright?). Then I heard someone curse. I imagine it caught someone. Didn't hear about anyone having died-by-vase so couldn't have been that bad. Right?

So. I wanted to say this to whoever I unintentionally hit: You're bad at paying attention to your surroundings. You deserved that.

That's all.

[Filter: Zeus]

It's warm. I think I can feel my toes. I want to go back to Glastheim and freeze myself before it's too late.



[ooc: if you want your character to have been accidentally struck while near the palace in Svarga or something, go for it.]

Who in their right minds brings children down to the training grounds? I thought it was so obvious, I didn't even think in bashing it into the new soldiers. Obviously, I was wrong. Some parents shouldn't be allowed to breed educate anything.


It seems I'm stuck babysitting. While the father is occupied.

It feels a little stupid to have to say this, but apparently people: 1. Aren't using their brains. 2. Aren't in possession of a brain. or 3. Don't know the point of a graveyard.

Playing hide and seek and using the graves I'm digging as a hiding place isn't smart or polite. The next person to do so might find out what it's like to get buried alive.

Just stay the fuck out of my graveyard.

[The problem with Lucifer's handwriting is that it's almost illegible unless he makes an effort and, to be honest, after all the comings and goings from Glastheim to Svarga and back again, he has no desire to make that effort.

Odds are that Bastet can read it and War certainly can.

Today, Lucifer is making no effort.]

Hades isn't the fanciful type. No, despite the many difficulties he has suffered, not once has he dreamed of a 'better life', a life with 'family' and 'love'. His emotions have always remained a flat line. There are scant few punctuations in the equilibrium, surely, but these hardly carry enough amplitude to earn more than passing notice.  Hades has never thought to ponder the silence with which he faces the world, never thought about how odd he is for a boy of seventeen. (But he has never felt like a boy, has he?) The world is the way it is; he is the way he is.  There is power in accepting the truths one cannot change, and if he is confident in anything, it is his own power.

Hades isn't the fanciful type. He knows this and does not question it. That is why, when he suddenly feels as if the world is too quiet, the sun too bright, he simply accepts his sense of foreboding as fact -

Something wicked is afoot. And he must be ready.

In hindsight, I too easily allow myself to get talked into things that perhaps aren't as good of ideas as they sound read seem.
Not that I don't still expect those apples.

Anybody in/around/nearby Svarga know what to do with a broken leg?  (A lamb's, not mine.)  I do not have a lot to pay, but I am good for favors if necessary.

Who does one have to kill for entertainment?

For the record, a wedding is never entertainment nor should any of you ever mistake it for one. You may as well cover your nether regions with fire ants if you think weddings are amusing. The same can be said about the birth of a child. One must wait a sufficient amount of time to see if the child will be of use or possess good sense. Sometimes, you know early on. And that is fortunate.

( [Filter: Private] (warning: cut for sensitive material) )

[That morning, Thanatos had been unable to find a cloak. He very much liked this cloak to the point of being obsessed with wearing it on certain types of days. He really couldn't (or wouldn't) explain why but those who knew him knew he did what he wanted in a most stubborn fashion. It wasn't the type of thing one would find in Svarga and it had been one of the few things he had bought while coming from there.

But instead of finding it, he found a box of his ex's things. Not just ideas of apparel or items she herself had made or bought but a few were things he had gifted her with. Then there were notes. Those he quickly destroyed with his own hands and then set them on fire. The rest he couldn't decide what to do with. Until he remembered the journals.]

Fucking Hate every goddamn Die in a I need to get rid of a few things once owned by a woman. A couple of scarves, dresses. Pair of good boots. Handmade pouches for coin or something. A couple of books on healing and herbs, novice stuff. Some cooking books, more complex stuff, I guess. All that's free, I don't care. But I'll be selling a ruby ring and pair of earrings. May as well get some money back for those. If something appeals or you're curious, see me tomorrow morning. Name's Thanatos and I'm a blacksmith. Shouldn't be all that hard to find me if you've any sense.

But tonight, I will be in the nearest fucking tavern.

A man approaches you in the woods and attempts to steal your food from you after you haven't eaten in days. You're starving and exhausted. He's more worn out than you are, and you debate keeping the food for yourself, sharing it, or giving it away.

What do you do?

I don't need to work tonight. A blessing as my feet are so very sore. Bah~

Are there people in Mictlan who'd care to join me for a drink? I'm going to be a traitor to my tavern and go over to The Damned Watcher. The entertainer there is much better than the one at Iron Hound anyway. First round is on me.

Weddings, whoop-dee-doo. There is no possible way that I could care less than I already do. I don't know what it is about the whole general idea of ceremony, but I've never been a fan. I didn't even bother sailing anywhere to see who was coming and going. The weather is too damn cold in some places anyway. How does anyone from Svarga manage to not shrivel up and die in Glastheim?

I do need something to do though. Idleness isn't good for me.

I wonder what the potential job prospects for a musician are like in Mictlan... It would be nice to meet some new people before I head back to Camlann.

There's been a lot going on lately! I envy the people who got to go to that wedding and do all sorts of traveling. Must be nice... My brother and I mostly keep to ourselves but I know he works hard for both of us. I do what I can, but I'm not sure what I'd do if anything happened to him...

You people are all pretty boring and whiny.

how intrestin, this book here. were like monkees on display

[filter: mictlan faction] [writing is slow and careful, with pauses for referencing a dictionary or thesaurus.]

Glastheim loses a wise king and gains a foreign idiot. I do not know if I should laugh or cry.

Anyway, I will endear myself into the queenling's good graces. For your information, should the need arise.

Dear diary,

I'm being shipped off to marry some douchecanoe person in a place with crappy weather and-



Oh bollocks. I spilled my ink again.


Can I go home now? I miss my bed, good food and not having to keep losing my pens. WHERE ARE ALL MY PENS.

I almost forgot just what I didn't like about Glastheim but it's pretty damned obvious with every step north.

God, how do you survive the cold? I feel like bring out every fur and cloak I might have in that overly large chest of mine.

A farmer's - or in this case the handsome, hardworking, son of a farmer - work is never done. At this rate I'll never catch a break.

[filter; hebe]
I found a book about stars, but I can't figure out all the words. Want to look at it with me?