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Pygmalion ([info]milk_and_ivory) wrote in [info]nevermore_logs,
@ 2012-09-04 15:11:00

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Current mood:anxious
Entry tags:galatea, pygmalion

Who: Pygmalion and Galatea
What: Without his magical talents still Pygmalion is having a mid-life crisis and a mental break-down
When: Tuesday afternoon after he comes home from classes
Where: Galatea's place

Two weeks. It had been two weeks...maybe it was three...or four! The days had started to blend so close together, Pygmalion didn't even realize it was already September. He was distracted ever since Hephaestus had stripped him of his talents. He felt so....ordinary. It was a disgusting feeling. He could hardly rub together two lines on a grocery list without his thoughts causing him to panic.

He'd been on his way home from classes, two more students less than he'd had last week. There was a little over a dozen still in his class, all draining to mindless zombies now that their teacher was practically mentally handicap now. 

Wringing his hands together he approached Galatea's place. He didn't even wait for the maid to come to the door for an answer, he just came in in a panic.


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[info]ivorymade
2012-09-04 07:36 pm UTC (link)
One thing Galatea did not like was someone coming over unannounced. What she hated even more was coming over unannounced and barging right in. Well, whoever this was had better have a good explanation, she thought as one of her maids came rushing to tell her a man had come in without even knocking. She barked orders at her maids to keep the door locked so such things didn't happen. Now she had something to fix.

This was too much work.

But when she saw that it was her Pygmalion she smiled with relief. "Oh, my sweet, it's you. My maid had me thinking some random man had broken into the place and was about to murder us all." She wouldn't put it past anyone in this city.

Then she noticed his worried look. "Oh darling, has Hephaestus still not given back your gifts?" She became softer, putting her hands gently on his face as she kissed his cheek.

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[info]milk_and_ivory
2012-09-04 08:11 pm UTC (link)
He covered his face with his hands, tears draining from his eyes. He couldn't hold it together anymore. The more he looked at her the more he started to freak out. Those inner shakes started to move outside. "I can't do anything!" he whirled around, pacing himself in circles, wringing his hands into his hair. I can't draw, I can't write, I can't even look at a block of clay without it laughing at him. He was frantic.

"If I can't create then I'm no longer an artist. If I can't be an artist I can't show the world beauty. If I can't make beauty then I've failed to exist. You've failed to exist...you have no reason to..." to love him. He was wringing his hassle over and over circling by the door. He was choking up the more he rambled on.

The maids eyed Galatea confused asking if they should put on some herbal tea. It might make the strange little man calm down.

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[info]ivorymade
2012-09-04 08:28 pm UTC (link)
Galatea allowed him to whirl around and in doing so, she hooked her fingers together and watched him with concern. She sighed, shaking her head. She was angry the gods would do such a thing to him, but at the same time she could understand their reasoning for him needing to have a reality check. He had received his gifts from the gods. Without them he would have never made her statue, and thus he would have never had her. He had much to be grateful for. All he had to do was show it.

She waved her maids away to leave them be and she paid them no mind as they hurried to another, farther room.

"No, my sweet. You may achieve your gifts again. The Olympian said what you must do. You are not nothing without them, but you cannot live without your gifts because with them you are complete." She firmly took hold of his hands. "You must admit fault. It is the only way."

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[info]milk_and_ivory
2012-09-04 09:39 pm UTC (link)
"There are those that don't think so. " His big blue eyes searched hers. "If you didn't love me I wouldn't exist." He knew he had to prove himself to Hephaestus. He'd brought himself down before when he begged Aphrodite to grant Galatea life.

He clung to her hands. His energy was depleted. This had completely wrecked him.

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[info]ivorymade
2012-09-05 01:47 am UTC (link)
She moved in closer and pressed her head against his. "Shhhh, don't say things like that," she whispered. He should only worry about what she thought, not what others thought of him. She thought he was the most wonderful man in the world. Maybe it was because he had made her to be that way, maybe it was because she really could think for herself.

The world may never know.

"Come, stay here tonight. We will have dinner and we will talk and drink and laugh like we always do."

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[info]milk_and_ivory
2012-09-05 03:18 pm UTC (link)
The thoughts of others were usually a mile a away, he never even dwelt on it. The truth was though, once a man was stripped of all he knew that made him what he was it was opportunity for doubt to sink in.

He quieted down a little, head still spinning in all kinds of directions. He gave her a soft nod because it was all he could muster behind those big guilty eyes. A broken artist was worthless, at least in their own mind.

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[info]ivorymade
2012-09-07 08:03 pm UTC (link)
As much as Galatea hated seeing him this way she would put on a happy face. It pained her to no end that he was hurting. She could kiss and hug and love him as much as possible, but it wouldn't change anything. She knew that.

She kiss his cheek before taking his hand and leading him into the dining area. "Margot, Francesca, you may come in now," she called, directing her voice to the opposite end of the room where a door lead into the kitchen. When both women presented themselves Galatea smiled sweetly, "Please prepare something light and delicate. My dear, sweet Phillip is feeling out of sorts. Be sure to make tea as well." The women simply nodded and returned to the kitchen as Galatea settled into her usual chair at the head of the table.

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[info]milk_and_ivory
2012-09-08 04:00 pm UTC (link)
He was still a little chocked up, but at least he wasn't panicking quite so much. She put some light at the end of this tunnel. If Galatea had cast him out he would have curled up somewhere in a ditch.

His hands were still shaking as he followed her into the kitchen. He felt so vulnerable. He was usually narcissistic about himself, but in front of his Galatea he was a different person---and right now he was completely at her feet for her to coddle.

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