mythopoeics

I very badly wish for this to be over. This is cruel.

[Filter: Troilus]

Thank you. For letting me go.


[Filter: Hector]

When this ends, there is something I wish to ask of you.


[Filter: Gawain]

May we speak for a moment, sir knight?

I find all the interesting places. I know some of you here, don't I?

( Do you know what just started? )

[The charm had worn off and he was sick to death of compliant little Raphael and his loving Sarah. They weren't fun anymore, they weren't good enough for him. What had been a dream had soured and he had been in a terrible mood. It was just after he had finished jabbing away at Raphael with his cane, had just turned to stomp off, when he tripped over one of the chain binding his archangel to the wall.

Some time later, he bothered make a post.]

And I'm in bed with a sprained ankle. But Sarah is here, Sarah is taking care of me but I'll be back to work tomorrow because I've had worse but fuck this shit. When is it going to be over, people?

Spent the night in the Studio. I have to admit, some nights it makes my head hurt. Tonight, though, we start on a video. Wonderful, I think.

However, spent some of the time hiding my laughter from my manager when I was supposed to be listening to the tracks, because there are people here who just are so hilarious that laughing at inappropriate times was unavoidable.

( I wanna wish you away (I wanna kiss you away) )

Backdated: April 25th

I'm tired.

Yo, dad, are you alive? If you come back and find me dead it is because of a hangover. And the fact Morpheus won't make me soup for my hangover slash migraine slash too-tired-to-move state.

[Filter: Mordred]

Happy Birthday~

I'm definitely too tired to poke this dude.

( cut in relation to the previous Mordred-cuts (aka sensitive topic) )

Do you ever have those days where you feel like you've forgotten something, but you know that you've remembered every little thing? Something is just off about today.

A part of me thinks I should have stayed in bed this morning.

Or at least at home.

I'm not sure.

Perhaps it's just my shoes. I ran out with one black and one brown today, and I didn't notice until lunch. Either other people haven't noticed, or they've been too polite to say something. I'm guessing it's a mix of both.

More importantly, I suppose I should be asking about where I'm writing now. Is this more like tumblr, youtube, or blogspot?

( leave me out with the waste, this is not what i do )

[ ooc: warning for some icky imagery ]

[filter; mordred]
Look, I'm not good at this shit. All I want to say is I'm glad you're my brother. Don't do anything stupid.

[filter; daphne]
I'm this close to killing Gaheris, or whoever the fuck he is. Drinks on me tomorrow, and I don't give a shit if it's almost the middle of the week.

[filter; public]
My younger brother popped in today, since apparently there's not enough fucking crime in Burlington to keep him busy.

Oh. Hello world.

Weeks like these make me glad I put a cot in the back of the pub.

[filter; private]
It was swell for the first few days but I can't fool myself into thinking any of that is real.

[Thoth hadn’t been awful to deal with. No. He had been… perfect. Her perfect amazing husband. God knew everything in her wished she could fall back in the old routine, accept that that was really her husband. Ma’at knew better. She looked at him in all his perfection and saw the little flaws, remembered that when she closed her eyes to sleep, in the morning, she would wake to an empty bed. The heartache wasn’t worth it.

So the woman was fleeing. Brian tightly held in her arms, she spent as much time outside the house as the little boy would stand – hushing and consoling him when tiredness became too strong and he wanted nothing more than rest.

The worst was how Ma’at couldn’t decide whether she wanted her husband back, mortal and by her side, or protected where he was far more than a finite creature, subjected to sickness and ill fortune. In her old age, the woman was becoming quite selfish. Oh lovely. Another reason to avoid his ghost. Last thing she needed was to have a very personal conversation with herself about how human she was becoming.

“Mom? Can we…?”

“We’re going home right now, sugar.” Ma’at kissed the boy’s forehead and sighed. Time to face the music again.]

I remember now why I didn't live with my mothers.

[ it wasn't like she was complaining or anything. It was just. Fine, so maybe she was. But her father - the man who had pretty much ignored her all her life - was acting like she was suddenly her favorite child. And dear gods in the sky, if that wasn't freaking her out, then her siblings (mortal, mortal because her immortal were so much better) certainly did the trick.

Excuse her as she played pretend and avoided these.

The door to her room was closed and locked, keeping those illusions well away from her. But the part of her which was still Hemera, still day and ageless, hadn't been able to ignore the immortal part of her family. Lyssa sat by a corner, the Moirai to themselves as ever, Moros, Nemesis, it was a wonder how so many fit. Right behind her rested Aether, an arm carefully enfolding her shoulders as he spoke of whatever he had seen during the day.

It was also an illusion; all of them were. She soaked up every detail and word anyway ]

I have never thought I would see my mortal father hanging around with my mother. My real mother. I think the image is now burnt on the back of my eyelids.

They gave me Apollo. They gave me this imitation of him and expect me to be happy? Screw you. I swear, if I ever get my place back, I'll give you this a thousand fold back.

[ this wasn't the wife he remembered. That one he had taken in his king's name, given her choice and received a companion in return. That wife, he respected. This one was slowly but steadily keeping him away from home. He didn't want to pretend to be married, didn't want to play along with those people's illusions all over again. And more than anything, he wouldn't betray his present.

But he couldn't deny. To have his brothers nearby; younger, happier, carrying no hatred nor disgust, reminded him of happier times. Unlike his wife, he welcomed these illusions, spending time with both parents and siblings as if the world outside was Camelot.]

I feel tired.

When it comes to odd events, I prefer this one. Less violent.

[Filter: Private]

FUCK. FUCK. I may love my siblings but this proximity thing only works when we're out destroying the fucking world.


Would Death be very pissed if I locked her in my fucking closet? Probably. She's never finding out. Only Pestilence gets a free pass, it is good to see him walking again.


I should fucking kick Famine out of my bed. Eventually.

FUCK.

What the fuck is my life.

[It had been a nightmare from the beginning, reflecting everything that Galahad had never wanted to face. Reflecting a yearning for things he shouldn't. Love, praise, family- it felt like an indulgence. A weakness. The perfect knight could only want one thing, the Grail.

Yet that was also there, resting on his mantlepiece as if it had never been anywhere else. His mother and his father loved him, praised him and knew him. Mordred was happy, contently reading on his couch.

And Percival...

Percival was affectionate and warm; he touched him. He could touch and touch back, until it stopped being Galahad and Percival but just them.]

[Azazel's perfect world should have been a harem of men waiting at his every beck and call. But it wasn't. In his perfect world, he had a family who loved him unconditionally. His family included not only the mortal parents who had disowned him, but all the other Blackwells, and his two sisters from Zurvan. And he certainly didn't mind the presence of Samael's lovely little concubines. They weren't exactly the Brady Bunch but Azazel was having one hell of a good time. In the back of his mind he knew it wasn't real, that it couldn't possibly last forever, but why not enjoy it while it was?]

Bottomless supply of wine. Check.

Every season of Project Runway. Check.

I would invite some of you over to partake in this glorious fiesta, but my flat is literally filled up!

[Having her sisters around, at first, seemed like a dream come true. However, as time went on and it became more apparent that they were just facsimiles and not really her fellow Mousai, Euterpe found herself attempting to avoid the house she and Calliope shared as much as possible. Thankfully, it was the time of year when finals were on the horizon, so she was able to sequester herself in the library and music rehearsal rooms of NYU for most of her waking hours.]

The concert on Friday evening was amazing. Jack White played a combination of new and old stuff, and proved he's a consummate showman. The thing that made the night that much better was the older man who went off on a rant about how music is a corrupt institution and boy bands were designed to sell sex to teenage girls. I think anyone who can listen to 90% of the current boy band pop songs and miss the sexual implications has to be ignoring the lyrics. The good thing is I'm totally going to use that argument for my symbolism paper.

Otherwise, I think everyone else has said anything I might've thought to say about this latest situation, so I'll keep my thoughts on it to myself.

Anybody want to come out drinking with me tonight?

[Pestilence's idea of a perfect world is not different from Famine's. In it he has two legs that work; his siblings are in harmony; Beast is not dying. But War and Death are not his only two siblings around. One of his half-sisters from Zurvan is a notable addition to the cramped one bedroom apartment. Sigyn spends most of her time draped across the couch in the living room, the scrawny feline named Gaunt all but glued to her lap. Or, at least that's what he sees when he returns home late at night and leaves early in the morning before Famine can question him about her presence.]


Is it over yet? These stupid tricks of theirs never last. Nothing ever does.

[Phonecall to Set]

[Never let it be said that Tezcatlipoca didn't know how to play his part well. Perfectly normal, mirroring amusement that he was incapable of feeling (or if felt, he didn't feel like it like others did- like one should). His iphone had the most ridiculous picture he'd manage to take of Set. Well. Why not.

He let it ring and waited patiently.]

[There was a very good reason why she had been quiet until now. Perfect!Set had received her laptop to the skull for being so frighteningly good to her before she ran out of the apartment for work. When she had gotten home, the mess had been tidied up for her to deal with later.

It was only that afternoon she purchased another laptop and then hid in her closet from her flawless family to type up something for the community.]

I suddenly appreciate almost all of you for who you are.

I never realized how time-consuming taking care of two children can be.  I don't know if I feel guiltier for wishing this was over or apparently wishing for this in the first place. 

Though it is nice to pretend, even if that means having it all ripped away again.

[Filter: Egyptians]

It's been selfish of me to keep so distant, and I owe an apology for not trying harder to overcome my reservations. 

I need to get out for a bit, if anyone is interested in joining me for a picnic in the park.  Nothing too elaborate, I just miss the fresh air and wouldn't mind the company of somebody real.

Seconding what Echo said -- this was nice until it got real weird. Having so many people around after a couple of days is kinda strange. They never leave, either.

[filter; galahad]
You're here, too.

This went from being really weird to really cool then back to being really weird. Maybe if I give it another day it'll be really cool again.

The longer my house is full, the longer I want to scream. I may go homicidal crazy.

I don't know what you're all complaining about, because in my flat, things are pretty pantastic fantastic.

This wasn't cute at first. And it is not growing any more endearing as the days go on.

[It was all perfectly and comfortably black. Helios was the only light. She had been shocked that it was him, out of everyone who could've been there, it was him. She hated it.

Leukothoe felt disjointed. Even if he was here things could never go back.]

[It was everything she'd ever wanted, and it was nothing at all. Her mother, her father getting along just fine- Zeus didn't have his crazy harem of...whatever they were hanging around.

And yet.

It was all wrong. Even Jim (Heimdall, Heimdall, Heimdall) seemed a little too perfect, a little too wrong. He pushed (never too little, never too much) always just right (wrong). Sigyn was uncomfortable.

More than that, there was the shadow of a man who followed her every step, knowing her better than she knew herself. More importantly, he knew things about her that Sigyn didn't yet know. It was perfect and it was creeping her out.]

[Perfection did not always mean humiliating or crushing the despised. Sometimes it meant warping the smaller ones into tools against the greater foes. And that was happening in her apartment, with her daughter so casually taking it in as if it were normal.

Adam suffered, at her hands, at the hands of an Eve that did not waver or flinch at stepping on him. But, by now, the charm had worn down. It was too right, too well-executed and her toys did not sing like they should have but how her own dreams dictated. There was no reality in it and Lilith was disenchanted.]

I thought at the beginning this was semi-acceptable.

Not so much anymore. Someone come in here and take them away. They have outlived their usefulness.

[filter; private]

There is something about this that seems perfect and so it's unsettling. The last time I had a perfect life was long before Helen crossed Paris' radar, when Troy was strong and true and when my beloved child was in my womb and Hector and I were assured our happiness.

I cannot look at him without feeling guilty and yet here Astyanax is and he looks at me as though I am some radiant sun.

[filter; public]

Hector, I am going for a run. Keep an eye on our son - why does that not seem right? It is too perfect to be right.

(New York in spring is ideal for a photographer.)

It wasn't motherly love that saved the false!Gaheris from behind torn apart by her false versions of her sons. He remained in her home, calling out to her, demanding from her an acceptance of his forgiveness. The first hours, she enjoyed it. The next day she allowed it but the one after that she found herself worn, nerves frayed.

And no matter what she said, he wouldn't stop. So she had him gagged and bound, pushed somewhere where she could hear him kicking, trying to get out to get to her. How she imagined the real one would do the same but with different intentions.

She did not end him because she didn't know what the result of that would be. No matter what she wanted, she did not want to destroy her mortal daughter's life with selfish decision. Others could judge her for it, say it was her selfish decision that led to the loss of her head but Morgause was a woman with much pride and haughtiness to believe her affair was something offensive. Four out of five didn't react badly so it couldn't have been.

Morgause didn't wonder where Lamorak was in all this. It was probably better he hadn't come along anyway, false or not.

[Calliope hadn't been ready for the appearance of her husband. Two years dead, and now he was back in her life. Was it real? It couldn't be. People didn't come back from the dead, even with strange things happening all around. They didn't return with no knowledge of ever dying in the first place. They simply didn't return at all.

What she'd learned over the days was that he couldn't leave to house, even with her insistence. That meant he was a vision she could see only when within the house. They would never have another outing, confined to the house for as long as this would go on for. But Calliope wasn't unhappy. She hadn't shed tears, not even when Orpheus had shown himself on her couch. Couple that with her other sisters, who didn't seem to be her own but rather Euterpe's, she was at her happiest.

But her heart ached. How long had she longed to see her husband again? Too long. Now he was in her life once again, as well as her son and her other sisters, and words couldn't describe just how perfect it really was.]

[Text to Euterpe]
You need to know how much you mean to me. Please never forget it.

[Filter: Gwynevere]
He's here.

[Filter: Leyla; language: Turkish]
Not that I'm complaining, but something seems a bit off. I know I am a persuasive man when it comes to getting what I want, but I don't even know these people who showed up at my house. There has been a lot of sex Not that I don't enjoy them immensely, but you didn't have something to do with it, did you?

It wasn't my manager. I know that much.

[Filter: Public]
Are these things happening often? Things that are feeling unusual, I mean.

[For Pheme, waking up on the morning of the 25th to discover that she had the abilities of her goddess self back was like a dream come true. The wings were fun, but what she was really thrilled about was the fact that she could hear everything. No matter which way she turned her head, the conversations of everyone around her could be heard as though they were sitting in her bedroom telling her these things herself. Once she walked outside, her wings disappeared along with her stellar hearing, but that didn't bother her since she knew that once she got home she'd be her old self again.

By the time Saturday morning rolled around, she'd had enough. Switching on the voice function on her computer, a very tired-sounding Pheme took to the airwaves.]

Okay, seriously? Y'all need to shut the fuck up. I'm so sick and tired of hearin' everythin'. It was fun at first, but now I just wanna sleep....

How does it go -- three's a crowd?

Well, four is fucking annoying.

SO MANY PEOPLE I LOVE IN ONE PLACE. ♥

This is an interesting change. I can't say I ever expected it to happen.

[filtered away from theseus and deiphobus]
Can't say I'm entirely unhappy with this arrangement.

[filter; zeus & siblings]
Um

I have children in my apartment. They're my children. Heracles is here too. What do I do? My parents don't mind them around and

My husband and children are here. I'm

dsljhsdldlhs

[Work had devoured him for over a month. The two months he had spent away with some shadow of himself in his place didn't mean he felt entirely familiar with how things had gone. He had played catch-up silently, claiming he had been overworked and needed to adjust himself for the upcoming months.

And then the new game began to ruin his hard work. The-One-That-Got-Away showed on the morning of the twenty-fifth, apologetic and as beautiful as he remembered her. Golden-skinned and artfully twisted dark hair, a sultry voice to make a man drop to his knees (and he had - long ago). At first, he tried to throw her out (or, rather, off the balcony) but she couldn't seem to leave. So he cast her into a spare bedroom and locked it, heading to work immediately. There he saw the posts of confusion and realization struck. He came home and sent Maeve out, telling her to go stay with his twin a while.

It was the twenty-seventh's afternoon and he'd just now freed himself from the bedroom.]

[Filter: Archangels & Grigori (minus Samael)]

I think I have a problem.

[Admittedly, Nephthys showing up out of nowhere at his house and looking after him had been startling at first. Then he'd eased into it and it wasn't so bad...until she hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. Then it was definitely strange. His mother had never done that. Even now she'd been known to hang back more than she was for these sorts of reactions.

The fact that she'd insisted on cooking him meals and always checked to see how he was doing was also strange. It wasn't any easier to understand when Osiris and Horus also showed up at his house, talking to him about everything and anything, but never poking about. His father likely wouldn't poke, but his brother? Horus was very pokey.

Which brought him to another strange point. Bastet. Bastet was in his house, bubbly as ever but also surprisingly less pokey. She just had a habit of making him watch movies and dragged the other three with her. It was like family time, but this was obviously weird family time. Something was weird. He may have enjoyed the constant love and affection, but that didn't mean it was normal.]

[Filter: Horus]
Umm...I know you're sitting next to me and all...but is this you-you or...?

[Filter: Public]
I need coffee because I'm pretty sure there's been way too much alcohol consumption in this house.

[After waking up to find Erebos in her bed, and her house filled with the clatter of dishes, children and general family merriment, Nyx finds herself wondering what the hell is going on. She's even more confused as Erebos just dotes on her and helps out and makes her life easy.]

Well. This is awkward.

[Filtered: All myHer Children]
Well darlings, I seem to have you all in my house again.
I'm not sure what's going on. MOTHER SERIOUSLY? IS THIS YOUR DOING?!
In fact, Erebos is here too. Is anything going on with any of you?

[Filtered: Public]

My house is crowded. And there's so much noise.

[There had been no words when Igraine had discovered both Gorlois and Uther in her home. Both of them. Not only them, but her children as well in pint-sized forms. She had never been able to see Arthur as a toddler, and so the effect it had on her was immediate. While she'd been able to raise her girls, Arthur had been taken away from her.

On day two, things had only worsened. Gorlois was not angry with her. Uther was apologetic. It was what she wanted, what she'd craved for, but -- how to proceed? She needed to speak with someone.]

[filter; children]
Your fathers are in my home. As are all of you as children.

[Cornered. Confused. That was how Hermione felt when she'd woken up that morning with her real parents sitting on either sides of her bed. She'd slithered off the mattress, but was at a loss for words as her mother began rooting through her closet for clothes ("This would look lovely on you, darling~") and her father began stuffing her books into her backpack. All the while she stood there in pajamas, confused out of her mind. What the hell was happening?

Hermione actually looked forward to school to get away from the pod parents in her bedroom. Upon returning home, however, she learned they were still there, and that her other parents hadn't come home yet. She dropped her backpack and darted into her room, locking the door behind her. Their voices and polite knocks came through it. "I'll help you with your homework, honey"s and "How was your day at school, my dove?"s, too.

The little blonde collapsed onto her bed, wondering if she'd be able to face the parents she always wanted but never had.]

My kids are here. Both of them are here. And their mothers. And father. And mother. That last part shouldn't be said, just in case.

What's going on this time?

Seriously, Khaos. Don't you get tired of this?