Rosario Ortiz (reluciente) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2021-12-18 19:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | clio, rosario ortiz |
WHO Rosario and Clio
WHEN Friday 17 December, afternoon
WHERE Clio’s place
WHAT Hi, I guess I’m your niece…?
WARNINGS Probs not
Clio, the Greek Muse of History, lived in a well-kept brownstone with a wide stoop and flowering plants spilling from planter boxes beneath the windows. Rosario stood at the bottom of the steps, scrutinising the ornamental leaf carvings on either side of the entryway as though they were gonna tell her something about the woman who lived inside. It was surreal. She’d already met one aunt, so arguably this, being the second time around, oughta be easier. But the first time around had involved Lyra’s arm linked tightly with her own, and Patrick making glowing introductions, and a crowded public space, and also not insignificant amounts of alcohol. Today was a quiet street of row houses, and a stranger who asked about food allergies because she wanted to bake for Rosario, and (most disconcerting of all by far) a seven-year-old cousin. Rosario knew on a rational level that she most likely had hundreds of cousins, if not more. She’d even read about some of them: Ariadne the princess of Crete, Orpheus the musician who was shitty at following instructions, Pan the skeevy goat boy— but they were myths, and this was a flesh-and-blood little kid who was (apparently??) excited to meet her, and Rosario had no frame of reference for that, none at all. Gahhh. She hoped this wasn’t a mistake. She knew far too little about how all this Greek shit actually worked, she didn’t know what she was walking into. But that was, of course, exactly why she needed to have this conversation with someone – someone, crucially, other than Apollo – so she could figure out how it worked. At least Clio came with the Patrick stamp of approval. Squaring her shoulders, Rosario climbed the steps to the door and knocked. |