Saint Patrick ☘ (shamrocked_) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2010-12-02 09:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | clio, saint patrick |
Who: Clio and Saint Patrick
What: Helping Saints find themselves(Originally posted by Clio)
When: Friday, 3pm
Where: Patrick's place
Warning: Probable language, geekery
She didn't remember when she'd had this much fun. Well she did it was only that it had been a very long time since she'd gotten her hands on things she didn't know about. It made her easily excitable and overly energetic. Christians were a fascination. She'd watched the first of them go around, hiding and then she'd blinked and suddenly they ruled the very people who had oppressed them.
Although she was often in conflict. She couldn't share her excitement with Vercingetorix, she doubted he'd appreciate these people and she had no one to talk to. Well no one that wouldn't tune her out.
She shivered in the cold wind and knocked on the door, for a moment appreciating the irony that a Muse had to do legwork. It was nice too though, being active instead of being on the sidelines unable to do anything. Life slipped away when all you could do was watch.
She studied the are as she waited. She'd brought a number of books she hoped would help, that and the donuts she'd promised. Sweets tended to be a great ice breaker.
Patrick had been wiggling around waiting for Clio to arrive all afternoon. When the knock came, he jumped up, startling Grey Cat such that he actually lifted his head for a moment before settling back down.
Patrick pulled the door open and he grinned at her in a creepy, overly-excitable way. "Come in, please!"
She returned the smile before stepping inside. Curiously she looked around the home before extending the box of donuts. "Donuts, like I promised." He looked different then she'd imagined, but she always tried not to judge a book by it's cover.
She set her bag down log enough to take off ehr coat and set it aside before picking her bag back up. "So is it Patrick with or without the Saint before it?" She wanted to make sure. She was big on using proper terms and names. It just felt polite.
"I am going to repeat what I said to Michael for a moment. Perspective can be changed, but only to a certain degree. If my theory is correct you will change on some levels, but not all of them. As corny as this is going to sound, I can't do miracles." Smiling she set her hands in her pockets, "so let's get started."
"Patrick is better than Saint Patrick. And...it's okay, I understand," Patrick said quietly. He wished Clio could perform miracles, but beggars couldn't be choosers.
Patrick showed Clio to the living room and then he placed the box of doughnuts on the coffee table. "Would you like anything to eat or drink, or did you want to get right down to business?"
She shrugged and followed him. Maybe when she'd been in her prime she could have done more. "Alright. I have to at least let you know." She set her bag down, smiling, "I'd like some tea and in the meanwhile I'll ask some questions?" She looked to him, trying to build a comfort zone. She knew it was probably hard and he was sharing things with a stranger so she was trying.
"What happened that one day on the forums, when you seemed to act differently? Also does it happen a lot? And there's a point to that, several and one of them is a starting point."
Patrick didn't mind questions, or at least not that one. He rose to go make the tea, and he thought how best to answer that, since he didn't remember clearly. "I think it's happened a few times before, but I-I can't describe it. I don't remember it at all, but George said I sounded like I used to. Apparently I said I prayed and I poured out all the alcohol I had in the house."
She frowned and tapped her fingers on one of the books, "alright. So here's my theory. Gods have changed since people first thought of us existing, but some haven't. There are some old gods who are virtually the same and then there are those like you. I don't know why, but I believe that at the very bottom we'll always remember who we used to be."
She really wished there was a better way to explain this, "the reason I know I can help, that there may be the slightest chance of a physical change is because of my own family." She gave an apologetic smile, "to go into us pagans for a second. Anyway, my biggest proof I have is Eros. Cupid to you. Perspective sees him as a tiny and chubby baby with wings and a bunch of hearts. Reality is he looks young but doesn't look like a baby. Acts like it but not the topic of debate. And if Eros can draw power from that image, but remain as he is it stands to reason this can happen to others, should we remember our past."
She flipped through some books, "theory number two is that gods can...well kind of overtake other gods. Say for instance theres an old god who does something, and a newer god that does the same. The newer one is more popular and grows so strong that the old god is taken in by the new god until they merge. I believe you do that as well. There is another aspect to you, someone people still pray to and believe in. And it's strong enough to occasionally come through." She ran her fingers through her hair, "question is if this will happen more or less now."
She motioned to the journals, "sorry but there's homework. See I usually stick around people I'm helping. Being who and what I am, I don't forget. Sometimes that transfers over, because in a way it's inspiring people. And I'm a Muse, it's what we do. I can't exactly trail after you so we'll have to think of ways to help."
All of that made a certain kind of sense to Patrick and he was glad that there was someone to explain it so he didn't go cross-eyed trying to arrive at that conclusion himself.
"I have to believe there's another aspect of me because of what happened the other day, and-" Patrick bit his lip, about to reveal something he hadn't told anyone else about and he was about to reveal it to a pagan. Saint Patrick really had changed. "I don't hear their prayers any more. If people pray to Saint Patrick, and they must, I don't hear it like this. I only hope that I was hearing it the other morning when I was...different."
Patrick hung his head and he swept his fingers through his hair. "I don't mind homework. What do you want me to do?" he asked, looking at the journals.
She blinked at the hearing prayer thing and in typical Clio fashion said the first thing that came to mind, "wait, you can hear prayers?" She realized how that sounded and smiled, "sorry, this is me trying really really hard not to go off topic and put you under a microscope. I never experienced that, but I'm different. I was never prayed to. We're neutral, at least supposed to be, and we got invoked but never prayed too." She grinned, "so this is me excited."
She calmed down then, "but this is probably big, I can't relate, and hopefully it will change." Gently she set her hand on his shoulder and smiled, "look things will get better. And for now just write. Memories, either blurry or not, and a note to yourself. This other part of you should write too, even if it's in another language. I know translators." Smiling she squeezed his shoulder. "I'll contact some historians I know, do my job. I suspect it'll take a month to get everything off the ground, and hopefully by the end of this year you'll have a book out and things might start to get changed." She sighed, "I wish it could go faster, really I do, but this will take time. I'll do more research."
Smiling she released him, "and visit Ireland Patrick, at some point go home. I can give you books and clues but all your answers are right there. Trace yourself back. Your past is important, even the bad parts. Ignoring that is going to do harm." With a grin she leaned back, "and I'll stop doing the whole I know better thing. I'm old, I have cases of 'you crazy kids you'." Smiling she picked up her own notes. "and I'll come back for those journals in a bit, straighten them out. And you know if I talk to much feel free to say 'shut up Clio'. I'm very used to it."
"No, I like the talking," Patrick said with a laugh. It was a lot to take in, but he had followed it. "I'll write. Though I never thought of putting a book out! That's...really brilliant, actually. I'll do it."
The idea of visiting Ireland filled Patrick with dread without an understanding as to why. Clio was right, and being there would probably help him. But the idea was terrifying. He could cross that bridge when he came to it.
"As for prayers...we're supposed to hear them. I haven't for a long time, and I worry that those prayers are going unanswered. It's actually a really horrible feeling."
She laughed, "you'll regret saying that when I go on forever. Even my students learn to do it." She looked to him then, "just not as Saint Patrick or I suspect heads will implode. And your Angels are scary. All that smiting." She made a face, "I'm way to cute to go hang out with my uncle."
She grew more serious and frowned, then shook her head. "I don't know. Can't help there. Not a god. Still though, I'm sure you do what you can regardless. What do people pray to you for anyway?"
Patrick laughed that Clio felt she needed to explain that he couldn't publish the book under 'Saint Patrick'. "The angels are scary," Patrick said with a grin. "Don't worry though, they only tend to smite if you like...if you're Satan or something. And it's okay. I hope the prayers will get through eventually. They used to be about all sorts of things. I heard prayers for the Irish Question, and the immigrants who came to America only to be treated with disdain by everyone else. And snakes. Not...the snakes themselves. People pray to me about snakebites and other snakey things, which probably doesn't help my fear of them."
It was one f those reasons people tended to hush her. "Better then some of my family. They still do the smiting things. Olympians are so swell I tell you." she nodded as he explained, "weird." She bit her lip then, almost saying something in the likes of 'maybe they've stopped because people don't need them anymore' but that sounded plain rude and not to mention hurtful in her own head. And occasionally she stopped herself.
Then she smiled, "I'm sure they will come back. Anyway I'll come back whenever you want, we'll discuss what you've written down and see if we can jumpstart your memory."
"Thank you," Patrick said, his smile wide and relieved. "Thank you very much, Clio. I appreciate your help, especially since you hardly have to bother with something like this."
Smiling she shrugged, "you're going to make me all sappy. Listen don't worry about it, and it is actually something I have to do. History is my thing and this is a thing I don't know anything about. Granted, it makes me feel old, because seriously I blinked and suddenly you guys were in charge. That was confusing. I'm learning from this and I'll only stop when I'm dead."
She'd hug him, but hugging people you just met tended to be strange.
Patrick didn't think hugging people you'd just met was strange. He stood and hugged Clio gratefully, already feeling excited about this entire project because he couldn't help himself. He needed something to focus on.
She returned the hug with a smile before releasing him, both grateful and confused. "I think that means I'm doing good. Anyway you have my number. Call if you need anything. I'll let you know if I find anything."