mythopoeics

This is the first time that my husband has been of any use to me. I haven't had to deal with anyone bothering me about my lack of marriage. I still think he's going to end up having an accident...

[Filter: Private, Asmodeus and the wives can see]
In other news...what the fucking fuck is happening and why the fuck are these clothes so hideous and why am I being told to have dinner on the table at exactly 6pm and why isn't he dead yet? why is there nowhere to order the food from so I don't have to do anything? This is ridiculous.

Ugh.

[ Always in life had Naamah been elusive, someone who kept to herself and said nothing of her past or her thoughts. She was more adept at playing games than giving straight answers, more likely to tease and torture than deliver, but in these days, she wondered. Was there much of a point to hiding? It was almost cowardly, not unveiling herself, when she'd once been a queen of Hell.

Well, that could change. ]

[ filter; all judeo-christians ]
Feathered ones, Horsemen, denizens of Hell~ This is Naamah speaking.

[ filter; fellow wives ]
Testing, testing~

I've become a father! It took me awhile to tell people, because I wanted to make sure if it was a boy or girl. After a very long stare, I've decided it's a he. His name is Bob. And he's a chip off the old block. Last night, he painted a masterpiece on my wall. It's abstract. Very creative use of white space. I'm so proud of him.

I invite everyone to come over to see his work.

Has anyone tried to see what happens if you trap it?

Personal success is so very satisfying, isn't it? What a first it was for someone to buy four of my paintings in one go. Will anyone ever top that, I wonder. Hmmm.

And once again, I'm looking for female models. Two in particular, as I've lost two due to relocation. Selfish whores. Let me know, and we'll meet.

[ filter; agrat ]
Dinner this week, darling? I'm feeling generous.

[ filter; tarek ]
I've been wondering~

[ filter; demons ]
Hmmm.

I love getting into debates with idiots, it's by far one of my favorite things about the whole college experience. This one was rather epic too, if I do say so myself. It started out being about how women claim they want nice guys but go for douchewaffles, then morphed into a discussion about homophobia (I hate the word homophobia; you're not scared, you're just an asshole who can't accept things that make you uncomfortable), gay rights and peoples' perceptions of gay marriage (this letter/op-ed piece should be required reading for everyone), and ended with me explaining to a dipshit classmate that calling me a 'fruit' isn't as insulting as he thinks it is because everyone loves fruit.

Thankfully, I was able to keep things classy, though I think my poor opponent had no idea what he was up against. He seemed to assume I would fall apart over his repeated insults, when the opposite happened. Victory is sweet.

I'm going to be perfectly frank here, and feel free to not stop me as I go on, but when women complain about men hitting on them while they're wearing short items of clothing, they really are just asking for it. What, exactly, is the point of wearing short dresses or skirts if you don't want men to strike up a conversation with you or call you gorgeous? The logic eludes me. Men don't complain like women do.

What a world it would be if women didn't bitch all the time.

How fortunate I was to not have to be tied down by marriage and children. It sounds dreadful~

Someone had better explain why we are suddenly a host to soldiers who aren't behaving in a very soldier-like manner.

[Filter: Babylonians]

Those Niflheimians are unpredictable. Ally with the more powerful countries immediately. Corner and massacre them. If they are not whipped into obedience, we will be razed to the fucking ground. We need power and cunning.

We must do something now that something appears to be wrong with the soldiers. They don't quite seem drunk but they do appear drugged in some manner. This is luck and we must take advantage of it to show this world that we are not their doormat.

[Filter: Eve]

Our sister, whoever she was, is dead. It's likely she wasn't anyone at all, though. We'll know if we ever return. In any case, I'm sure you must have heard by now.

I'll be home to deal with you soon. Don't move.

[Filter: Private]

And maybe I'll let you know who I am then. Perhaps as I pin you down and take away everything that makes you wrong. And Adam, will Adam see you so docile and submissive then? So perfect to put under him and treat like a second-class thing?

I'll ruin you, Eve. I'll drag you into hell and have you remold in the horror and filth all demons come to adore and treasure. And what will your precious fucking husband think then?

[Filter: Public]

And life goes on, it seems.

Can someone here in the Camelotian castle please do something about that little servant? My nerves are being grated here. I rather not have to go on poor terms. Presumptuous of me and I do not care but I imagine if we might actually be stuck here longer than we all would like that we better play nice still with the other regions and whatnot. Rulers are still rulers and servants are still servants.

As if I care. I just want to see him annoyed.

I'm not sure what I preferred, this or Rome. I'm placing my vote with this.

[Filter: Galahad]

Baby, I love you, I do, but mommy's going to lose her mind now. Look away. LOOK AWAY.

[Filter: Public]

I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO COPE WITH THIS RIGHT NOW
I AM MARRIED TO A MAN WHO DOES NOT LIKE ME BUT LLIKED ME
I HAVE TWO CHILDREN
THREE IF I DO NOT GO HOME SOON


WHAT IF I GO HOME LIKE THIS? OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD




I can't even DRINK. This is hell. This is hell, isn't it? Trying to breathe now. BREATHING NOW. ALL THE BREATHING TECHNIQUES. ALL OF THEM.

[Filter: Isis, Set & Osiris]
I'm sorry The Sultan is dead. I wish I didn't have to write that. He was found on the ground outside of the palace, directly beneath his room. There's a woman in the dungeons who snuck into the palace disguised as a servant. One of the other servants claims to have spotted her coming out of his room. She will be questioned and if it is found she is guilty, then she will be dealt with. Set, if you would like to take care of the questioning, you can. If not, then I will leave it to someone else.

On that note, I believe we need to have a meeting. I would like to be briefed on what's been happening in the region and what was said to both the Iriyians and the Niflheimians. I would rather be informed before I speak to them.

[ooc: added in later]

[Filter: Babylonians]
I must regretfully inform you that your our our Sultan is dead. There will be a funeral for him shortly. Even during these difficult times, we must be strong. As your new Sultan, I will do for you what I can.

[Filter: Private]
Damn it.

Because allowing foreign countries into your own to fight on your soil has always been such a good idea. I wonder who the genius behind this master plan was.

Well, you don't see something like that every day...

[Filtered AWAY from ALL high ranks and soldiers]

Oh.

My.

Word.

So... I went to go visit the chancellor of Camelot, because I'm totally a concerned citizen and I wanted to bring a 'get well basket' from my parents to him and give him my best wishes, and when I snuck got to his room you'll never guess what I saw!

There was a man curled up in a chair just watching the chancellor! The man was pale, had weird and stupid curly hair, and I could hear him speaking in a strange accent! I didn't catch what he was saying because I didn't go in the room; I didn't want to be rude; but from where I was standing it totally looked like he and the chancellor were being intimate.

...does this mean the chancellor is somehow in cahoots with one of the enemies? I think the accent was Ryugu-jo-ian, but I'm not sure. I ran before they could spot me.

WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

Am I hearing right or did they finally find that runaway princess dead? I caught wind of this while wrapped around a slim, elegant Iriyian merchant, all cold toes and nose, but such a warm, wet mouth working. If so, thank whatever God there is. An end of that stupid mess.

In other news, my sister is dreadful at playing nice and I need a back rub. The two are not necessarily connected.

[At the worst of times, Babylon could be so boring. With all the rumors of what had gone down at the peace talks, people were worrying their panties into a knot. And to top it off, still no one really knew where that royal couple was. There had been an article in Camelot about a sighting, but how true was it?

In any case, Naamah wasn't having enough fun. It was torture, sometimes. But she'd always figured, if you weren't having fun, you had to make your own fun. Don't expect others to create the interest for you, because people weren't trustworthy. And neither was she, frankly.

So Tuesday evening had found her curled up against the side of a bar patron, her hair appropriately curled and her dress hanging loosely about her hips. There was no intention to sleep with this man, only to press her lips to his ear and whisper. I heard it from someone else, but did you know officials are saying that body in the paper is the Ryugunese princess? And to another's ear -- did you know she has birthmarks they can use to identify her? Did you know she was still wearing a kimono when it happened?

Well, all in a day's work. She'd return home and congratulate herself with a glass of something strong but sweet.]

I have such a deep appreciation for the gifts that Babylon gives me. Carry on.

[filter; asmodeus]



[ ooc: warning for DIRTY CONVOS ]

If anyone tells you mothering on your own is easy, don't listen to them. Don't. Never believe them. Call them a liar. Minnie's kind of threatening my sanity. Four-year olds are just...well. I have no real words for them. But she's taking after me and mixed together some flowery little scents. My darling baby. ♥

Speaking of which, Helen, come over on Thursday. I need to have you try this soap.

[filter; private]
The air is crackling with something interesting.

[filter; public]
I will have to convince some musicians to come play for me while I work some day. How much would they charge, I wonder.

This heat.









It is not sexy, and it is ruining my hair. Do you realize how fucking difficult it is to fix your hair for stage? I don't even. Fuck.

I left the door open in my office for five minutes and the stupid puppy runs right out. So you'd think this is bad, right? Well, it is. Until this leggy-sort of guy with the prettiest hazel eyes I've ever seen trips right over him.

So I hired him. Among other things. Yeah, the dog's fine. He's chasing something in the room now. I have no idea what nor do I care as long as he doesn't



Never mind, there went the coffee mugs.

[The following is visible for a short period of time, from around 1AM to 8AM, as she later gets up and realizes that drunk!posts are ridiculous and damaging to her image. She's never been known to make good decisions while inebriated -- not that she can actually remember Dionysus and his date rape at this point in time.

Yet that she got this drunk in the first place is a point of wonder. There can be no doubt that the events of the day (or, to the more particular, the day before) have shaken her to the core.]

I t never
gets easy ;.ad

so

sorrryy

[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 Naamah should've come back to was a pristine apartment, everything in its place, her paintings lining the walls. Instead what she'd woken up to that afternoon was empty spaces on the walls, her paints splattered across the floor, brushes broken, and canvases damaged beyond repair. Something very personal against her.

She would have to think back very carefully to all the recent men she'd wronged, and when she remembered him, there would be pain. But first, to the police station. ]

[filter; private | language: italian ]
Someone is going to be ripped limb from limb when I find them. I am going to paint the walls with their blood. They are going to suffer painfully for ruining and taking what is mine.

( the mistress is speaking~ )

ooc; gets a little pg~

I find it somewhat unfortunate that television doesn't exist in this time. I would sneak away to watch the televised games if I could.

Oh, did I say that outloud?

[filter; apollo, artemis, gabriel, leviathan] [ooc; she goes by the name 'lena' since she does not know who she is yet /o/]

I would like to get to know my current set of siblings. And so many of you there are~ It appears I am fated to be part of large broods.

[filter; hermione] [who shall henceforth be included in all filters pertaining to hera's progeny.]

My darling. Accompany your mother to the baths?

[filter; pat
[filter; drake]

Are you all right?

[filter; blackwells + chiara]

Is everyone safe? Are any of you - I can't even write it

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

[She'd been nearly mugged two nights ago while passing an alley. Nearly being the key term but Lilith knew how to bring a man down and this one would suffer more than just an assault. The moment his knees hit the concrete, her foot lashed out to connect where it would hurt the most (first his ribs, then his belly and, with the very tip of her pumps, between his legs).

Murder wouldn't do. She was a mortal being. Checking to be sure she had left nothing that could possibly come back to her, she had left the alley. Once home, she spent an hour in the shower (not the bath, not where she may stew in the filth washed off herself), biting at the soft pads of her fingertips. Loathing flooded her hard for the males in the city, in the community. Lucille's knock at the door jarred her from her bloody thoughts, finally forcing to her to leave the bathroom. The girl is used to her mother's mood enough to not question her.

A couple of days later she was still in a mood but had cooled down a few degrees.]

What do you think motivates a woman? I ask in general and for the majority but if you need a specific, then let's consider crime or betrayal. Because I've never met one fucking soul who was mugged by a woman. Is it different from a man's motivations? Which one usually is more honourable?

[Angels, angels. How many of them were around, Naamah wondered. She didn't hold anything against them -- well, aside from her most intimate parts, when they succumbed to her -- but it was interesting to see them accumulating. Barachiel, Gabriel, Samyaza. Samael. He was the most interesting of all, revealing his identity to seemingly anyone. Did he have nothing to fear? Why would he give himself away so fast?

But she wouldn't reveal her own self just yet. She wanted the time to roll around in the knowledge of having one up on on the featherheads. Knowing of them without them knowing of her gave her the thrill of power, and she loved every second of it. Enough to celebrate her discovery with a nice glass of French wine.

Perhaps she'd make a list of angels, just to see who decided to pop in.]

[filter; tarek]
My studio, tomorrow at noon. You'll be there, won't you?

Helen. I -

[filter; helen]

So, last week was fucking weird. Don't know how it was for you. But come over, please? I Ti-Voed a bunch of shit movies of stuff getting blown up.

[filter; public]

It seems there are a lot more Italians around these days. I entirely approve. Sometimes, my name is Celestino.

I am just saying. No one ever said I had any fucking class. But I fucking love this city~

[filter; reza | visible to all blackwell women]

Caaaaaan we go punch Patrick now? I'll hold him down, you hit him with all your girly-strength.

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