mythopoeics

[ filtered from khaos & minions ]
I don't get why we can't just break these things. They're just cups, aren't they? Just smash that shit into pieces.

( Dragon tales and the 'water is wide'/Pirate's sail and lost boys fly/Fish bite moonbeams every night/And I love you... )

Hypnos and I got the baby checked out, and everything looks good. We've named her Dani Somna Iverson, and if all goes well she'll have the same curly dark hair as her father.

Freyja, Igraine, Mary -- thank you all again, if there's ever anything I can do for you please let me know. I love baking, so if there's any treats you like I'd love to make you something.

[When she suddenly found herself separated from Hypnos and in strange circumstances yet again, Pasithea did her best to remain calm. The room she'd found herself in seemed safe for the time being, although that quickly proved false when she started reading reports of dinosaurs in the area. Though she couldn't hear or see them, she knew that if she encountered one she'd be in a bad way. Her pregnancy had progressed to the point where she knew she could go into labor any day now, and these were not ideal circumstances.

Still, that didn't stop nature from taking its course.

She'd managed to make her way to the apartment building that up until recently had been designated a safe zone, and was preparing to get word to Hypnos when she felt the first contraction. Pasithea knew that so long as they weren't coming at least four minutes apart the baby would be fine, so she forced herself to take deep breaths as she turned on the computer. When the machine finally started up, she felt something wet soaking through her pajama pants.

This wasn't good.]

I'm not sure if anyone can help me, but my water just broke. I'm in the apartments [here]. Hypnos, if you're out there, I love you, and I'll do everything I can to keep our baby girl safe.

It had been years, so many years, and he'd walked through those doors like it had just been a only a few days. The smile he gave her made her feel sick and weak, furious and helpless. Her hands had shaken beneath the table as he took his place from across her, had so casually lit a cigarette. He told her of all the places he'd been, the work he'd been up to. He told her that she hadn't aged a day since he'd left, still looked like the gorgeous girl he'd married.

She'd remained uncharacteristically silent, drinking in everything he offered. When he made a gesture, she withdrew her hands from their hiding place and had held them out. And he'd held her hand as he told her that despite her looks she wasn't fit to be his wife. He had to move on from this person she'd become. It just wasn't healthy for either of them. Then he offered her the cigarette.

Numbness swelled into shock and finally rage. It'd taken five nurses and two doctors to pull them apart, her fingers coming away sticky with blood, skin and hair. The words she flung at him had all been in her native German, raw and crude, vowing revenge on his worthless self.

The moment she was alone, the tears came. It was less that she couldn't stop them and more that she didn't want to. There was no twin to comfort her, no daughters to dab at her eyes and rub her hands. She would have to get it out and see where her violent outburst would take her now in this damning place.

[ Thor had never woken with anything sitting on his nose, let alone a fairy. But this one perched on his nose as if nothing was amiss, and only when he woke did he realize something tickled him. Tickled him a lot. Something was giggling, and then he opened his eyes to-- Oh, jesus fuck.

Seriously?]

What the FUCK is going on?

My car may have been reduced to a pulp for no apparent reason. I can't wait to try and explain this to the insurance company.

I'm having a hair dilemma. After Halloween last year when I wore that blonde wig, I've kinda been pining for blonde hair. Would it be worth it? Will my hair hate me? Will I regret it and then turn to red dye in the end?

DECISIONS, THEY ARE HARD.

I saw Thor the other day. It has nothing to do with Norse mythology, so I'm glad it's just after the comic. I still don't get it.

His name is Garm.

[ filter; norse ]
This is Hel. Hello.

[From the moment she died things had changed, something inside of her had shifted and chipped away. It wasn't a quick awakening, but slow and drawn-out, painful like the water filling her lungs, choking her slowly - each breath a little shorter than the last. Agonizing torture until the miserable end. Sigyn wasn't unfamiliar with miserable endings and death, if anything she was painfully familiar with the concept.

That was why she wasn't - at first - panicked over dying. No, what caused her true pain was knowing she had messed up her vows.

That ring she'd brought back from Zurvan had not been given to her by Loki.]

[Filter: Loki]

Are you here?

[Filter: Norse]

I'm awake now, sorry I took so long. I don't really intend to make much conversation, please just tell me who is here.

Has anyone seen Loki?

[Filter: Private]

Thank God for twins who make themselves available instantly. My daughter. I have a daughter and yet I don't and I am very firmly going to avoid alcohol. It won't help. At all.

[Filter: Public]

I don't care if I'm saying this wrong, I feel like Leonardo DiCaprio Inception-ed me AKA sometimes I think even this world can't be real. A Greek goddess stomping about, dictating things to us. I'm a fucking Vanir, who is this brunette bitch to me? Hell, the Greeks wish they could be like me and my kind.

People say we are myths. People say we cannot exist and, yet, here we are. And then there is Zurvan, a place we say that cannot exist and is false. But what if those people we have left behind are real? They do exist?

What a tiring thing living as a mortal has become. And I don't even think I've gone on long enough as one.

[Filter: Private]

And I think I need to consider moving on.

( problems and problems )

[ filter; freyja ]

The girl. Our girl. They threw her here.

[ / ]

[ filter; elaine & visible to Aphrodite ]

There'll be a new addition to the house. Don't freak out.

[ / ]

Got back home in one piece. Random notice.

Fuck, New York. There are so many damn people in this city, how do they all fit in here? Better question: I need to find someone. The fuck do I get a phone book?

[ filter; norse pantheon ]
Don't know if I'm doing this right, but hey.

[Filter: Norse + Aeneas]

Stay away from the Niflheimians unless you are one. I have long since ceased to trust them but I have no way out at this time. War comes in many shapes and forms but I took the best of warriors into my halls. Those who understood what it meant to fight and die in the glory of real battle. I wouldn't pick any of these people to sit in my halls and drink my beer.

This isn't war if you butcher those who can't even defend themselves. It isn't war if the other side didn't know it was coming. This filth they have dragged Niflheim through is crime. And if they do not even care about that, they are little more than thugs and barbarians who are not fit to viewed in pleasing light.

[Filter: Aeneas]

It was lovely, wasn't it? ♥

[Filter: Hector]

Do you think when I was queen that I would have allowed such needless tactics as the Niflheimians have? I worry for what may still come. I worry that no one will stop these dishonourable people. Even of those they slaughter do not truly exist, they are disgracing themselves with these moves. And they may kill those we know.

Guard yourself. Protect yourselves and do what you can for others, dearest man.

[Her writing is jittery now and then but there is a reason for that. Anything crossed out should be especially considered poor writing.]

I have terrible hiccups. And everything that I
have tried
- know to try - won't

work

HELP ME RIGHT N

NOW OH I HATE THIS
AT LEAS
least the children have ceased laughing, the little

Just before she married, Freyja ceased to toy around with her twin. She didn't necessarily cradle the vows to her bosom as if they were sacred. She had on more than one occasion fooled with a married individual. But there had also been one more than one occasion where she saw someone who didn't deserve to be put in such a position. Yes, of course the other party were responsible for their actions but she didn't have to go and throw unnecessary temptation in anyone's path. She knew she had a way about her that made even strong men crack.

And Aeneas didn't deserve a wife whose eye roamed even while he was in the room. Her twin was lovingly set aside, nudged to go marry and have children of his own. And she found her happiness with her soldier husband. The children, of course, were a pure delight. The results of a good, loving marriage.

So when a patient smiled at her in a way she could read was more than just friendliness, she smiled back, all teeth and promise of pain should his hand wander when she was near. Loyalty meant something to her, even if she was the one to decide when it should begin or break.

Really didn't feel like going off to some.

Probably not the best place to speak of this.

Seriously, who knows why this war started to begin with? Wash the laundry in the house like the rest of us.

My youngest suddenly asked to learn how to handle a sword. And not the boys, mind you. But now that she asked, the other two are all up for it. I think I need to hide every kitchen knife just in case.

[All but one painting had been returned. It was well enough -- it wasn't one she particularly liked. With her studio apartment back to normal, she dove back into painting Rome and what she remembered of it, the brothel in particular.]

Gentlemen, don't look this way.

I've been learning that I lack better than just decent models. This city is full of beautiful women, and not enough come through my door, I'm afraid. Who would like to fix this dilemma of mine?

[filter; surpanakha]
I am looking at you. Can you feel it?

What a strange place I've found. It makes you wonder...

The day is warm and bright. Too bright. Brother, please turn down the lights a little. I burn easily but wearing long sleeves forever is too constricting and, once again, the day is warm. It would be uncomfortable. Thank someone for inventing umbrellas, sunglasses, and wide-brimmed hats...and sunscreen.

I wonder if you are here

Seems something's happened recently. Lots about hospitals and being alive. Strange.

[Filter: Private]
No calls from Benny today. Either he's staying put or he's remembered the GPS.

[Filter: Private]

And we all fall down.

...no, I don't even want to dwell on his death. Not when I can't even steal him and take him to my hall. Dearest Heimdall, you'd have such fun there. If only I were still



[She ceased to write, abandoning her journal entirely then. She had often recommended to her anxiety-ridden patients about writing down their thoughts, to try to free themselves from things that stressed them. But it wasn't helping at all.

Hearing her name called to attend to someone requesting her, Freyja smiled mirthlessly. There were other ways to soothe a troubled mind.]

This guy thought he could take me in the training yard, so I broke his fucking nose and four fingers. Guess he's not using both hands anymore.

I always have appreciated Roman clothing, even what little I'm wearing.

Aloha everyone! My name is Kallista Martin, I just settled into my new apartment this weekend ~ I'm originally from Oahu and relocated to your lovely city to open up a brand new office on Academy Street. I'm a sex therapist and matchmaker. We're accepting appointments and our hours are 9am to 6pm. Additionally, if anyone is looking for a job we could use a front desk receptionist! Must be 18 or older; please reply to this post if interested.

If you have any questions; about myself, the practice, or anything pertaining to relationships and all the issues that come with them ~ feel free to go ahead and ask! It's what I'm here for, after all.

And! I've actually got a question for you ~ what's your favorite romance/love song? This is mine.

[Filter: Skadi]

Do I get your eternal love if I tell you Loki's in town? Say yes, darling stepmother. ♥ You know how I hoard love and affection.

So you know, this was reported to me by Heimdall who got it from Sigyn. I don't know who Sigyn is and he hasn't figure out who Loki is yet but I thought you should know~

[ filter; freyja ]

Found Sigyn.

And the fucker's here. Watch yourself.

[ / ]

[ filter; gwen ]

So, what do I take to a dinner with girlfriend's parents? I can't believe I wrote the word...

[ / ]

Good timing for the end of this. I have a divorce to handle and two days to convince a woman that it'd be better if she didn't try to flirt with the jury to get her way.

I dislike California. Not one map seems to fit the area properly.

[Filter: Hypnos]

Darling~ ♥ I'm not horribly late with this, am I? Forgive me, it took me a little while to grab them but I eventually did and these would be willing to hear from you about your father and look over his charts. Go ahead and pick one or all three, lovely:

Dr. Hamed Bayat, age 54 [office number]
Dr. Alasdair MacGregor, age 51 [office number]
Dr. Theodora Andreou, age 45 [office number]
Dr. Annelise Jespersen, age 46 [office number + cell]

Annelise, bless her, even offered her cell when I told her you were Danish. Fear not, she's happily married! It's a 'oh, a fellow countrymen!' sort of thing. ♥

[Night had always been the time of day in which Hypnos was most active. He wasn't running around or doing aerobics, mind -- he was simply more alert. It gave him time to contemplate the things and the people in his life, those well and those unwell. His father, who had fallen ill again, had been occupying his mind for some time. But unwilling to share that information just yet, Hypnos instead turns to a comfort of his: his native tongue.

His voice comes in in soft Danish, lightly accented by his acquired American one. He speaks about his father, how the man had undergone surgery months ago, and how suddenly he was ill all over again. He mentions having Zeus as a father, but doesn't mention the man by name, simply referring to him as 'the man who was my father'. Finally, he reverts back to English, all of that off his chest.]

I wonder, sometimes, if Zurvan was just a dream or if it was real. It felt very real. But I've also had dreams that felt very real... and I've always woken up from them feeling strange.

It's Friday the thirteenth. Now, I don't believe in any of that silly nonsense because I've always have had good Friday the thirteenths. However, it's always enjoyable watching the overly paranoid fuss and worry about the harmless day.

Who here gets their panties in a knot over a number and a day?

Mm, fuck.

I could take hot baths for-fucking-ever. I love me my travel, but there ain't nothing like a goddamned homecoming. ♥

[Filter: Freyja]

Thank you for the meeting, by the by. ♥ Can't understand half the shit he's saying, but where words lack, his hands suffice.

I MISSED MY OWN BIRTHDAY. Well, close, I was busy on my birthday, but it's pretty much the same!

[ooc: For those close to her, feel free to know her birthday was on March 30!]

I love how this time of year the school starts planning all sorts of dances! People get so cray-cray about asking someone, and offended if they're asked by the wrong person or turned down. Even better, they all talk about these things where they think nobody's listening, which makes for some awesome looks of shock when it all turns up in the Pheme Periodical Underground News for everyone to see. I love my life.

Ugh, I need a dress. And a date. Sadly, none of the guys in my grade are remotely interesting enough for me to consider, but I guess I'll have to settle for someone. Denver, you want to go stag with me? We can dance around and laugh at everyone. It'll be funsies, promise!

[So Freyja got laid at long last. First visiting her twin and not leaving his place for three days. Then calling up one of her favourite blonds and inviting him to stay with her. She'd returned to work, of course and also was turning thirty-six on the thirtieth of the month.

She had many reasons to be happy. Best to make up for the last post, then.]

And all is right in the world. ♥ It's sunny though nippy, the month is ending, I'm getting a little older. And Sven is marveloussdfl;j
sdfkj
a'sdl


A pain in the ass when I don't want to be distracted but I'd be lying to say I'm not feeling distracted from this now.

SO BRB LOVING LIFE
GO AND DO SOMETHING FOR YOURSELF TODAY ♥♥

[she couldn't work, barely could eat, couldn't get dressed, couldn't feed her cats. she'd resorted to knocking over the bag with her elbow and just shooing them out of the kitchen when she suspected they had had their fill. water was a situation that had required more cleverness and she'd bruised herself in the process. but what was worst was that she felt neglected. physically. there. you know where.

yes, that was what was worst for her. a voice post was plotted then, so she could at least vent]

Sometimes, during times like this, I want to treat this place like a personal ad place. Though less about dating and deep meaningful relationships and more about good hard fucks that leave you unable to walk with any dignity at all. [she laughs, briefly amused by her own self] Gods above, that's indecent, I know. Not that I am a decent person. And I can't describe the state I'm in. I'm so very out of it. And irritated. It's not good for me to be like this. It's not good at all. Oh, I can get a maid in here to clean up, to even look after my cats if things don't stop eventually but I am not sure what would happen if I touched someone else with...passionate intentions.

But returning to the so-called ad business, it would end up a bad, bad idea, wouldn't it? Someone assure me of that. True, I don't know enough of you to trust you and not all of you know me well enough to believe I wouldn't rip your spines out and bathe in your blood. So I linger- no, languish is this state, sweetlings. [another laugh, she knows she's being very dramatic] Waiting for this stupidity to pass while simultaneously dreaming of the most effective way to make Khaos regret every single one of her decisions. I even know what I'd start with: a stiletto. [small pause] Not the heel, pets.

Though I can only imagine what Loki would say if he could see all this. But I know exactly what I'd want to do to him when he spoke, that impudent bastard.

[a faint sound of irritation is then made and then in German:] For fuck's sake, the cats are back in the kitchen...

[the post ends]

[Narcissus has found himself gazing into the bathroom mirror, lovingly, of course, watching himself towel off after a lengthy shower. Towel fixed about his slim waist, though dipping just enough to be tantalizing, at least to him, he smiles at himself, his hands gingerly caressing the side of his face. He runs his hand through his hair, and seems to procure...what was it? Something soft. A flower petal, from between his fingers. Thinking it to be nothing more than a fluke, he tries the action again. Panic sets in as he manages to pull yet another beautiful white petal from somewhere in his hair. His hands shaking, he refuses to touch himself again, but cocks his head, trying to look for the source of the petals in the mirror.

He's missing exactly two small locks of hair. Nothing he can't style over, but as he reaches out to touch the mirror, an idle gesture, the object liquifies beneath his touch. The entire thing is now a mirror-like puddle on his bathroom floor. He sinks onto the floor, and wraps himself up in another towel, but only after cautiously grabbing his ever-present cell phone from the counter (which thankfully, merely turns pink upon him grabbing it) and using it to make one, vague, panicked post. He's shivering, mostly naked, and terrified.]

My mirror is a puddle. I'm pulling parts of flowers out of my head. I don't...understand.

I must disagree with one of my relations. You have an interesting shine to you, a certain je ne sais quoi. Light reading for long plane travels.

Didn't have the party I was promised.

Instead, I get this. Hm. Well. I think I'll head east.



Emigrate. I should emigrate.

[Samael is a big man and a strong man and, despite Leukothoe's undoubted skills as an assassin, he survives.

When he opens his eyes, he thinks to tell the community of the strange dream he had in which he was a prince in a very foreign land who got stabbed for no good reason. When he opens his eyes, he sees that he's lying in a large four-poster bed, with a bandage wrapped around his torso.

He scrambles for his journal, which fucking exists, and, holy fuck, all the memories-]

WHAT THE EVER-LIVING FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?

[Leaving Samael's side was not going to happen. She ate, she slept and she allowed the windows to be opened for fresh air and light but she did not leave his side when it could be helped. She knew her people would work for Camlann, would manage it all when she was unfocused.

And though it was unreasonable, she loathed Gwynevere for her supposed role. Wasn't this how the Glastheins felt for Svargans for the suspicion that fell on them? Perhaps the little princess would understand, perhaps not. Freyja didn't very much care at the moment and it wasn't as if she could really get involved. The investigation into the matter couldn't contain her direct involvement, the twin sister of the victim. It would be biased with Glastheim questioning the results and the queen knew herself well enough to know she would want blood - fast.]

[Filter: Camlann Faction (top ranking)]

Tell me of what has been going on, lovelies.

[Filter: Polyxena]

You have poor luck, duckie. But with no report from Ilium of your harm or death, I suspect you kept yourself safe.

[edited in later] [Filter: Heimdall]

Your sister is returning to you as swiftly as possible. The investigation has cleared her. Speak to my right-hand for details.

[With great power, and height; with an imposing stature; with an arrogant nature; with all of these things comes complacency. Samael is stabbed. Samael is in shock. Samael cannot breathe and if he cannot breathe, he cannot talk. He cannot call for help. He cannot rage. He just about manages to drag himself to his journal, which is fortunately lying nearby. He has not the wherewithal to filter to the important parties but he needs get a message across. ]


He
L
p

[Filter: Gawain]

General.

[Filter: Freyja]

Sister.

[filter; freyja]

Camlann is quiet without her. I do not like it. It's not even that she's a rowdy creature; she is as delicate and silent as becomes any princess.

Go on. Tell me that it is my fault. Tell me that you can kiss it better.

[filter; public]

I'm supposed to get myself back to Camlann at some point but I've realized one of the many things that keep me coming back.

The ladies of the west do know how to pamper a man.

That and some nobles are so at odds with their consciousness that they feel like every shadow will attack them. And will pay anything to keep themselves safe.


Cute people.

I'd like to know: what or who gives you inspiration? Who gives you the strength to carry on or the inspiration to do something new, or perhaps something familiar?

Eli is getting restless. But it is no wonder. Spring is coming, and I am sure every bone in his body rejoices at it.

Even I am getting a little giddy. There are bits of green on the trees and just this morning I encountered rosebuds. Perhaps I am being silly.

[Filter: Heimdall]

You and Sigyn seem to be settling in well. If you don't mind, there are a few things I need to speak with you about.

[Filter: Galahad]

You've been rather elusive lately, though I've been seeing both Auntie and Sophie around. How've you been faring?

[Filter: Queen Freyja]

[added later] Representing Glastheim, I hope to visit Camlann in the near future to extend my region's sincerest congratulations to your Majesty's sister and the Lady Elaine. Of course, if it should not be a trouble to your Majesty.

I want to travel. Where is appealing at this time of year?

[filter; sisters]

What news of the boy king? Is he coming to claim our Polyxena? Shall we welcome him into our fold?

Here's an idea: don't touch my fucking horse, and you won't get kicked. Touch my horse and face the consequences. I'm going to beat the stable boy within an inch of his life

[As she told her sister, she herself would deal with the invitation to Arthur. It hadn't been immediate but she sent it off the moment she had the chance. Freyja made easy work of it, keeping it light (keeping it like he was already a dear, dear friend) and then had it sent off during the weekend.

Dearest Arthur,

Your health and region's well-being are things I hope are well. Camlann suffers little if at all and, no doubt, we all have the marriages between our regions in mind. Such joyous times are ahead of us, wouldn't you agree, sweeting? Keeps one's spirit uplifted and all that goodness. I do think, sometimes, once I have my siblings secure in happiness I may consider a marriage of my own. Perhaps!

I'll not drown you in pleasant talk too much for this letter has a stronger purpose. For sake of my sister's comfort as well as to get to know you much better, I propose you come here for a week. At the end of that week, my sister and your general's betrothed will accompany you to Mictlan to stay with you a week. This should give all peace of mind about what is to come as well as certainty that it is right. A chance to bond and such lovely business.

Consider it for our futures. I'm sure you will want my sister to feel at peace with the marriage and yourself.

With regards and love,
Queen Freyja of Camlann
[a red kiss mark is printed here]

The paper is then scented lovingly with one of her signature perfumes (one with notable hints of jasmine and neroli), sealed in an envelope and sent. She prayed by the beginning of the next month Arthur would not only have responded but would arrived. Polyxena's feelings about the whole matter came first.]

It'll be lovely when majority of the world begins to thaw from the season affecting some of us. I've always been greatly fond of fertile seasons opposed to the barren ones.

No, there is no code in that, it's a desire to




Cats are such troublesome creatures. Pesky thing. Now I need to go see what's knocked over.

[ handwritting is slightly scratched and bumpy because this is being written against his horse's head. Yes. ]

Wait. No. This way to Mictlan. What way? How come you get a sign in the middle of nowhere to indicate the way and forget adding the indications?

Farm.

Horse.

Fence.

Bloody corpse.

Trees.

More trees.

Thief.
Again.


I'll never understand why people think I have money. It should be pretty obvious I don't.

A description of my day sounds awfully boring, doesn't it?

Well.

Well.


It'll be interesting.