Who: Clio and Open What: Being Hsitory is Hard When: Some time during the Apocalypse Where: A refugee camp Warnings: TBD
The problem with history was that it all boiled down to numbers at times. Certain tales could be skewed in the victor's favor, but at the end of the day a field of war would have a certain amount of people dead, and one side victorious above the other. It was no different now.
The world had gone to Hell, and she was forced to watch. There wasn't a choice about it anymore. Average humans couldn't see her anymore. The purpose of a Muse was the invisible influence. The gentle nudge. And her job, her duty, was to remember events and make sure humanity would do the same.
But Neutrality was as much a benefit as a curse. Like all the other deities who oversaw history like she did, she stood apart from everything. Most let her pass through their lands unharmed, and those who scorned her because of her blood soon learned that History was a good thing to keep on one good's side. Things had to be remembered, and she tended to be the one to go to for that.
Today she was in a camp that was protected by the Christians. Her purpose here was to watch and listen, as it ever was. She missed being able to talk to people. To touch. Just be looked at. But she leaned down to offer inspiration to the few who wished to put down their recollections before finding a few children who were playing.
She enjoyed just watching them. They still had some innocence despite the terrible nature of this world, and their laughter always soothed her. They couldn't really see her, but she could watch them and for a few moments, that was enough.