A lot of new books bother me.
A lot of these quotes being perpetuated in modern society, in pop culture, bother me.
There
isn't any beauty in being messed up, mentally. People seem to think
that being fucked in the head means you're automatically something more
than others. Or that it grants you a special status.
But it doesn't.
What's
beautiful, the part of it that actually matters and means something, is
you. It's the strength. We've all been weak, been cowards - or maybe
it's just me - but we don't stay that way. There is growth, and
realization. Sometimes you cry, for hours, until your pillow is soaked.
But sometimes you cry for a moment, then wipe away the tears, and get
what needs to be done finished. This is beautiful.
The idea that
sickness gives an individual beauty is...saddening. Being ill doesn't
necessarily make a person "good". They can still be horrible to other
human beings.
We all have a little heaven in us, and we all have a little hell in us.
I've never been called an angel, or a demon. But I've been both.
The
personal sacrifices we make, when we are already so burdened by our own
biological flaws, is angelic. The anger we unleash when someone we love
and care about is hurting because of what someone else said, that is
demonic. We are wrath and we are love. There is no separation between
the two.
Yin and Yang? The idea is that they aren't actually
darkness and light. They are merely opposite forces which balance one
another. That's all we are. A balance of darkness and light, good and
bad, and there are people who are unbalanced with greater qualities of
one or the other.
Inside my own head, I can't say I think I have
more good than bad. I don't act mean, not usually. I do everything I can
to be a nice person, but sometimes my head is full of glass and nails
and angry fog, and so even though I may look nice on the outside, inside
I am hating. This isn't a mental disorder so much as a symptom of it.
But I've never imagined what I could be without such feelings. I've
never been able to comprehend what kind of person I would be without it.
My
own mental drama is not who I am, but it is a factor in me as a whole. I
can't say it made me a better or worse person, but I can say it has
taught me what things deserve my feelings and what don't. It has taught
me to be stronger than it is. It's given me a power, one that I didn't
realize I had.
Maybe it isn't a worthy trade-off to suffer so
deeply for such meager power, but if it's all I get, I'm taking it, no
moping here.
I don't want to be lonely and sad, I don't want to
experience days of happiness and wake up the next morning feeling
worthless. I want to be "okay", not even good, not bad. Just okay.
That's what I want.
In the end, we humans, no matter our personal
mental state, are a marriage of heaven and hell. Normally, however,
those of us with a personal problem mentally tend to be a bit stronger
than the average person.
More angelic than devilish. It's the one
thing a mental disorder can give, and even then, you have to embrace
your strength, not abuse it.
From the Ends of the World
It started in the Garden of Oblivion…
…and ended at the Ocean of Faith.
Things had become confused, muddled and fuzzy. Aura no longer knew what she was doing, if she was in the right or the wrong.
From above, the Morningstar looked down, and sighed in his melodramatic fashion. His companion the Garden of Eden was nearing its end, just as Eden had. It was, in the end, merely a minor inconvenience and nothing more, but he had come to like Aura and Era. It was disappointing to see his creations reaching their crescendo so soon.
Aura smiled, her features lighting up like the sun from the expression. The kitten mewed pitifully at her, eyes locked as she lifted it gently in front of her face.
“For me, brother?” She asked Era.
“For you,” Era affirmed.
They had lived in the Garden for as long as they had existed, and knew nothing of the world beyond their garden. It was full of things that slithered and crawled, but they had never met a mammal before, and this little ball of fur had already stolen Aura’s heart.
Era knew better than to take strays into the Garden. The Morningstar had told him plenty of times before not to. The breaking of this rule was the herald of the end.
“But why? Have we not done as you’ve wanted, Master?” Aura asked, her eyes filling with tears as the Morningstar looked at her, apathy on his face. However, being faced with a woman’s tears was a new experience for him, and he was finding it difficult to maintain his carefully constructed façade of indifference.
“Your brother has not.” He eventually answered, once he regained his composure.
“What?” Aura’s eyes moved from his to Era’s, the tears now steadily streaming. “What does he mean, Era? What happened?”
The kitten meowed from its place on her foot.
“The cat, Aura,” the Morningstar answered. “I told your brother, no strays. This cat is a stray. Its presence has disrupted the Garden, and now I must ask you to leave. Well, I say ask, but I’ll force you if I must.”
With these words, Aura took her brother’s hand, and lifted her kitten to her shoulder. Then, after the kitten attained balance, Aura walked out of the garden, fingers entwined with Era’s. The Morningstar watched, more than a little impressed. A sort of sadness descended on him. He had rather liked his creation, the one named Aura. Her attitude, her strength, they were qualities he admired, and he wasn’t even sure how exactly he had given them to her. What he did know is that she would have made a wonderful demon.
The land was barren, gray and dark. The soil, ruinous. It was a mixture of clay and silt, entirely devoid of an ability for growing. So the siblings wandered. Their stomachs rumbled, hollowing out, ribs growing prominent. The kitten cried. Aura took to catching the small lizards they came across, and quickly killing them. Then, she fed the kitten. Sometimes, she would give the lizards to Era. She, however, did not eat. She sacrificed the shine of her hair and the softness of her skin for her brother and kitten.
Era did all he could to get her to eat, but until they left the wasteland place, she steadfastly refused. They needed it more than she did.
The Morningstar watched, and grew angry.
“What are you asking?”
“You know what I’m asking. Please, allow them to reach the Ocean.”
“How could you ask this of me? We are opposites, you and I. Your creations, anathema to
mine. I will not allow them to pollute my own vassals.”
“Oh, the vassals you purposefully manipulated into failure so that you could continue your great plan?”
“I cannot do this.”
“Do I ask much of you? No. I’m playing your universe’s villain, you’d think you could do me this one favor after I agreed to perpetuate the enemy.”
“Fine.”
Their feet had long ago become raw, then calloused. Their bodies stained with dust, the only clean one the kitten, whom Aura had taken to calling “Mea”. Era had gone from sad, to distraught, to his current state of numb. He numbly accepted everything about their situation, following Aura like a zombie. It was his fault, he knew, and he hated that.
When the taste of the wind became salty, he opened his mouth wider. The numb acceptance faded to be replaced by curiosity, and he deftly took the lead.
He led them to the Ocean, and it was there they found their new home. Already, a family lived there, but they were welcoming enough to the new arrivals. A man and wife, two children…
Yes, a new home indeed.
…and ended at the Ocean of Faith.
Things had become confused, muddled and fuzzy. Aura no longer knew what she was doing, if she was in the right or the wrong.
From above, the Morningstar looked down, and sighed in his melodramatic fashion. His companion the Garden of Eden was nearing its end, just as Eden had. It was, in the end, merely a minor inconvenience and nothing more, but he had come to like Aura and Era. It was disappointing to see his creations reaching their crescendo so soon.
Aura smiled, her features lighting up like the sun from the expression. The kitten mewed pitifully at her, eyes locked as she lifted it gently in front of her face.
“For me, brother?” She asked Era.
“For you,” Era affirmed.
They had lived in the Garden for as long as they had existed, and knew nothing of the world beyond their garden. It was full of things that slithered and crawled, but they had never met a mammal before, and this little ball of fur had already stolen Aura’s heart.
Era knew better than to take strays into the Garden. The Morningstar had told him plenty of times before not to. The breaking of this rule was the herald of the end.
“But why? Have we not done as you’ve wanted, Master?” Aura asked, her eyes filling with tears as the Morningstar looked at her, apathy on his face. However, being faced with a woman’s tears was a new experience for him, and he was finding it difficult to maintain his carefully constructed façade of indifference.
“Your brother has not.” He eventually answered, once he regained his composure.
“What?” Aura’s eyes moved from his to Era’s, the tears now steadily streaming. “What does he mean, Era? What happened?”
The kitten meowed from its place on her foot.
“The cat, Aura,” the Morningstar answered. “I told your brother, no strays. This cat is a stray. Its presence has disrupted the Garden, and now I must ask you to leave. Well, I say ask, but I’ll force you if I must.”
With these words, Aura took her brother’s hand, and lifted her kitten to her shoulder. Then, after the kitten attained balance, Aura walked out of the garden, fingers entwined with Era’s. The Morningstar watched, more than a little impressed. A sort of sadness descended on him. He had rather liked his creation, the one named Aura. Her attitude, her strength, they were qualities he admired, and he wasn’t even sure how exactly he had given them to her. What he did know is that she would have made a wonderful demon.
The land was barren, gray and dark. The soil, ruinous. It was a mixture of clay and silt, entirely devoid of an ability for growing. So the siblings wandered. Their stomachs rumbled, hollowing out, ribs growing prominent. The kitten cried. Aura took to catching the small lizards they came across, and quickly killing them. Then, she fed the kitten. Sometimes, she would give the lizards to Era. She, however, did not eat. She sacrificed the shine of her hair and the softness of her skin for her brother and kitten.
Era did all he could to get her to eat, but until they left the wasteland place, she steadfastly refused. They needed it more than she did.
The Morningstar watched, and grew angry.
“What are you asking?”
“You know what I’m asking. Please, allow them to reach the Ocean.”
“How could you ask this of me? We are opposites, you and I. Your creations, anathema to
mine. I will not allow them to pollute my own vassals.”
“Oh, the vassals you purposefully manipulated into failure so that you could continue your great plan?”
“I cannot do this.”
“Do I ask much of you? No. I’m playing your universe’s villain, you’d think you could do me this one favor after I agreed to perpetuate the enemy.”
“Fine.”
Their feet had long ago become raw, then calloused. Their bodies stained with dust, the only clean one the kitten, whom Aura had taken to calling “Mea”. Era had gone from sad, to distraught, to his current state of numb. He numbly accepted everything about their situation, following Aura like a zombie. It was his fault, he knew, and he hated that.
When the taste of the wind became salty, he opened his mouth wider. The numb acceptance faded to be replaced by curiosity, and he deftly took the lead.
He led them to the Ocean, and it was there they found their new home. Already, a family lived there, but they were welcoming enough to the new arrivals. A man and wife, two children…
Yes, a new home indeed.
Balancing Act
An explosion of color.
Dark and light.
The passion of Hell's ardor,
the bliss of Heaven's respite.
Soft and hard,
Strong and weak,
A balance sought,
A balance to keep.
Perfecting the form,
That was the difficulty.
but then, success!
A balance between the density and destiny.
A tide of red, slicing through,
constantly rushing forward,
forever onward.
Pulsating with the lifebeat of
Creation.
Thick white support for everything,
holding the world up,
support for the support structure within,
a combination of red and yellow inside the white.
Then came the soft;
the pink and gray,
the sickly yellow and pale blue,
the heat and warmth, the stickiness.
Glue to hold Creation together;
Glue to fuel Creation forward.
Soldiers and civilians,
Villains and victims.
White knights to banish ill,
Red peasants, hurt and overwhelmed.
A balance.
Slithering lengths of space,
Constant pressure,
lumps of red warmth,
black flushes of decay.
Creation.
If you wonder,
"How do you keep a body balanced?"
Just ask me.
After all, I created the damn things.
Dark and light.
The passion of Hell's ardor,
the bliss of Heaven's respite.
Soft and hard,
Strong and weak,
A balance sought,
A balance to keep.
Perfecting the form,
That was the difficulty.
but then, success!
A balance between the density and destiny.
A tide of red, slicing through,
constantly rushing forward,
forever onward.
Pulsating with the lifebeat of
Creation.
Thick white support for everything,
holding the world up,
support for the support structure within,
a combination of red and yellow inside the white.
Then came the soft;
the pink and gray,
the sickly yellow and pale blue,
the heat and warmth, the stickiness.
Glue to hold Creation together;
Glue to fuel Creation forward.
Soldiers and civilians,
Villains and victims.
White knights to banish ill,
Red peasants, hurt and overwhelmed.
A balance.
Slithering lengths of space,
Constant pressure,
lumps of red warmth,
black flushes of decay.
Creation.
If you wonder,
"How do you keep a body balanced?"
Just ask me.
After all, I created the damn things.
Going Back to the Greek Tragedy pt.1
Monday, January 18, 2016
It was the light drizzle that put her in a poor mood. She'd been in this suffocating city for weeks now, and it had taken its toll. Now, the rain; a concrete city made dourer by the overcast sky and wet seeping into everything.
How she loathed these damned mortals.
Immortals weren't much better in her book, but at least they chose comfortable locations in which to live. Mortals simply built their temples to human fallacy wherever there was space, worlds of concrete and steel, an attempt to obtain godhood.
She almost laughed at that. Godhood wasn't nearly all it was cracked up to be. It was the fact that the mortals were indeed immortal that created all of the problems. Unlike the many mythical monsters forged from twisted human minds, there was no special circumstance in which these immortals died. They would endure for all of time, and this had led to some of the most creative punishments the world across. While she didn't endorse the barbaric practices her family engaged in, she could do nothing for them. Despite her far superior power, she and her sisters had little sway with the Olympians.
Queasiness settled in her gut. It felt wrong to be hunting him. Yet the Olympians had demanded justice, and she was forced to oblige despite her misgivings. She would find him, she always found her targets, but she would take him to be tried by the court of Themis. Truthfully, Themis belonged to the small handful of gods she trusted. But she was still concerned. There was no doubt that the Olympians wanted him imprisoned with no questions asked, and so she was bothered with the idea that they might try something.
Her fingers tightened around the blackened chain she held close, wrapped up around one arm. If they did, they would receive a taste of her reputation for vengeance.
Taking a deep breath - a mistake she realized as soon as the piss-reek of the alley filled her nostrils - she stood and waited. There was a steady pedestrian traffic seen from the mouth of the alley, many humans pushing and shoving one another out of the way, too impatient for their lives. But then, a bob and flash, and she knew it was him.
She darted out of the alley, immediately flowing into the stream of walkers. Though she could not see him, she could sense him. Her chain had tightened around her biceps, warming, something that occurred whenever she set eyes on the one she hunted. The clawed hand cover on her right hand was getting itchy, violence rippling under her skin. The power was flowing, and though she attempted to ignore it, stifle it, it had been so long since she had hunted...
He turned a corner, heading to a less populated area of the city, and she followed at a discreet distance. To her surprise, he ducked into a hole in the wall bar. She tentatively waited, then went in.
It was a sad little hovel, and the few patrons there at 6:00 pm were already sloppy drunk, staring into their glasses with dull eyes. It brought up emotions she never felt with her family; the depression of it all, the way she felt weary of it, how she felt bad for them and desired to help them. Then her eyes caught him. He was staring at her.
"Are you here for me?" He asked quietly from his place at the bar near the door, hand clutched around a foggy mug.
"You had to know it was coming," she said evenly.
"I suppose it was foolish of me to hope otherwise."
"Why did you do this?"
"What? Free him?"
She hissed in impatience, quickly striding to him, and pulled up short when she saw him cringe away from her.
"Yes. Why did you free him? You had to know the action would force me into this... I don't want to do this..." She hated the weakness in her voice, the obvious tint of pain.
He noticed it too, straightening slightly to peer at her face, a concerned expression overtaking his features.
"Why do you care?" He asked.
"Do you really have to ask?"
"No, no. You're right. You've always been rather humane when it comes to your jobs. Your existence, even. An oddity among the family."
"Why did you free him?"
"That again? Dammit, Tisiphone, why do you think?!" His voice had raised, and as it did, drunken heads perked up, slowed brain functions reacting sluggishly to the stimulus. He quickly cast his tone lower, trying to quiet himself. "After so many centuries, I couldn't stand it anymore. No other in this family has been hurt the way he has."
"Well..."
"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I know you've... But you were freed. That's... I needed the screaming to end." He finished, a defeated man slumping down on a bar stool, mug in hand.
"Do you think I failed to hear it?" She asked, sliding onto the stool next to him. He looked at her in surprise.
"What?"
"My role is justice. Justice in the form of vengeance. Do you not think his screams reach me? I have to hold back every time I visit them on Olympus; my power wants to enact its role on them. I'd think the reason why is obvious."
"Why haven't you done anything then?"
"What do you think, Thanatos? I was bound once before... I don't know that I could make it out with sanity intact were I to go another round. Besides that, my sisters... I'm not stupid, they've been effectively hostages for centuries, not that either realizes it."
"You mean...?"
"Oh yes. They've been staying on Olympus for a long time. They are even taking their side now, calling me a vigilante. Trying to force me into jobs that make no reasonable sense. I didn't want this, certainly. Is it still a filial murder if what you're doing is a grace? Apparently, the Olympians think so."
A deep sigh left Thanatos, and he slowly let go of the mug.
"I'll go with you. If you have to hurt me, I--,"
"Idiot!" Tisiphone snarled, shoving off of her stool and kicking away from him. "What kind of person do you think I am? Truly? You should know that of all the people in the world, mortal and immortal, I could never hurt you." She turned her back to him, shoulders dropping and arms hanging limply by her sides.
"What did you intend, then?" He asked quietly, slipping off of his own stool.
"I was going to take you to the court of Themis. I trust her. Any verdict will be irrefutable even in the face of the Olympians anger. I don't think you would be found guilty."
There was a pregnant pause, and she could almost hear the mental gears whirring in his head.
"Okay. Let's go." He said, the suddenness of his hand on her waist startling her. But it was merely to guide her outside, back into the gray dim of the day. "What do I need to do?"
"Take my hand," she said softly. He complied, and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. There was a sudden flash of darkness, and she heard Thanatos groan. She almost laughed, he could be such a wimp sometimes.
When she opened her eyes, they stood in the marble foyer of Themis' court. They stood for a moment before she realized their hands were still clasped, and quickly stepped back and away. His eyes caught hers, a curious glint in them, and she already felt dread welling up. If he asked her, she could only be honest, there was no way she could lie to him, but he had never realized it. Why would he realize it now, of all the ridiculous times?
"Tisiphone... Why is it, you said you could never hurt me?" Bastard.
"You know why."
"No. I'm not sure I do. I'm not sure I understand at all."
"Must we have this talk now? Themis is waiting!"
"Well, if I'm going to be sentenced in a non-positive light, then yes. Yes I would like to have this talk now."
"Why did you have to notice now?"
"Notice what?"
"That I love you, you dolt!" Her voice echoed loudly across the acoustic surfaces of the foyer. She cringed, taking steps back and away from him. How she hated herself in that moment.
"I... I don't... What?"
"I am well aware you don't view me in such a light, we can pretend this conversation didn't happen. May we proceed now?"
"Tisi..." The use of his nickname for her made her stomach twist into knots. Damn him. "Do you--, I mean... Are you sure? You never gave an indication before, are you sure this isn't some weird guilt thing?" The look she gave him would have left a weaker man huddled in a ball on the floor.
"How could you ask me that? You should be well aware that my affection towards the family is limited, and even those I interact with never touch me, and there's a clear reason for that. Just as it seems rather obvious why I would let you touch my hand for travel, let alone the past when you've hugged me."
"I didn't... It didn't seem possible, after...everything."
"Everything? What, you mean that time Zeus, Ares, and Poseidon took turns screwing me while Artemis, Apollo, Aphrodite, and Hera took turns torturing the shit out of me?" A harsh laugh left her. "It isn't possible for me to hold any affection towards but two true Olympians. You were never one of them though, were you? Your power is the same as mine."
"The greater power, Titan power...Yes. It is." He closed his eyes, his head hanging down. He scrubbed his hands angrily up and down his face, then straightened himself up and looked at her. "Tisiphone, if this doesn't go well, then I think I best do this now, so I won't regret inaction later." Before she could respond, he had taken her face in his hands and kissed her.
It wasn't a particularly long kiss, but it certainly was a special one, the culmination of centuries of secret feelings on both their parts, though he wouldn't admit that to her anytime soon. The god of death pining over a woman? It was mortifying to think of how she relentlessly she'd tease him with that.
Their lips drifted away, and she stared at him, seemingly lost for words. A moment passed, and then the doors to the main court opened, and they broke apart with incredible speed. Tisiphone's cheeks flamed red as Themis peeked at them curiously.
"Aren't you going to come in?"
"Of course," Tisiphone smiled, gesturing Thanatos forward. Themis turned, returning inside, with Thanatos and Tisiphone close on her heels.
Things had certainly gotten more complicated...
How she loathed these damned mortals.
Immortals weren't much better in her book, but at least they chose comfortable locations in which to live. Mortals simply built their temples to human fallacy wherever there was space, worlds of concrete and steel, an attempt to obtain godhood.
She almost laughed at that. Godhood wasn't nearly all it was cracked up to be. It was the fact that the mortals were indeed immortal that created all of the problems. Unlike the many mythical monsters forged from twisted human minds, there was no special circumstance in which these immortals died. They would endure for all of time, and this had led to some of the most creative punishments the world across. While she didn't endorse the barbaric practices her family engaged in, she could do nothing for them. Despite her far superior power, she and her sisters had little sway with the Olympians.
Queasiness settled in her gut. It felt wrong to be hunting him. Yet the Olympians had demanded justice, and she was forced to oblige despite her misgivings. She would find him, she always found her targets, but she would take him to be tried by the court of Themis. Truthfully, Themis belonged to the small handful of gods she trusted. But she was still concerned. There was no doubt that the Olympians wanted him imprisoned with no questions asked, and so she was bothered with the idea that they might try something.
Her fingers tightened around the blackened chain she held close, wrapped up around one arm. If they did, they would receive a taste of her reputation for vengeance.
Taking a deep breath - a mistake she realized as soon as the piss-reek of the alley filled her nostrils - she stood and waited. There was a steady pedestrian traffic seen from the mouth of the alley, many humans pushing and shoving one another out of the way, too impatient for their lives. But then, a bob and flash, and she knew it was him.
She darted out of the alley, immediately flowing into the stream of walkers. Though she could not see him, she could sense him. Her chain had tightened around her biceps, warming, something that occurred whenever she set eyes on the one she hunted. The clawed hand cover on her right hand was getting itchy, violence rippling under her skin. The power was flowing, and though she attempted to ignore it, stifle it, it had been so long since she had hunted...
He turned a corner, heading to a less populated area of the city, and she followed at a discreet distance. To her surprise, he ducked into a hole in the wall bar. She tentatively waited, then went in.
It was a sad little hovel, and the few patrons there at 6:00 pm were already sloppy drunk, staring into their glasses with dull eyes. It brought up emotions she never felt with her family; the depression of it all, the way she felt weary of it, how she felt bad for them and desired to help them. Then her eyes caught him. He was staring at her.
"Are you here for me?" He asked quietly from his place at the bar near the door, hand clutched around a foggy mug.
"You had to know it was coming," she said evenly.
"I suppose it was foolish of me to hope otherwise."
"Why did you do this?"
"What? Free him?"
She hissed in impatience, quickly striding to him, and pulled up short when she saw him cringe away from her.
"Yes. Why did you free him? You had to know the action would force me into this... I don't want to do this..." She hated the weakness in her voice, the obvious tint of pain.
He noticed it too, straightening slightly to peer at her face, a concerned expression overtaking his features.
"Why do you care?" He asked.
"Do you really have to ask?"
"No, no. You're right. You've always been rather humane when it comes to your jobs. Your existence, even. An oddity among the family."
"Why did you free him?"
"That again? Dammit, Tisiphone, why do you think?!" His voice had raised, and as it did, drunken heads perked up, slowed brain functions reacting sluggishly to the stimulus. He quickly cast his tone lower, trying to quiet himself. "After so many centuries, I couldn't stand it anymore. No other in this family has been hurt the way he has."
"Well..."
"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I know you've... But you were freed. That's... I needed the screaming to end." He finished, a defeated man slumping down on a bar stool, mug in hand.
"Do you think I failed to hear it?" She asked, sliding onto the stool next to him. He looked at her in surprise.
"What?"
"My role is justice. Justice in the form of vengeance. Do you not think his screams reach me? I have to hold back every time I visit them on Olympus; my power wants to enact its role on them. I'd think the reason why is obvious."
"Why haven't you done anything then?"
"What do you think, Thanatos? I was bound once before... I don't know that I could make it out with sanity intact were I to go another round. Besides that, my sisters... I'm not stupid, they've been effectively hostages for centuries, not that either realizes it."
"You mean...?"
"Oh yes. They've been staying on Olympus for a long time. They are even taking their side now, calling me a vigilante. Trying to force me into jobs that make no reasonable sense. I didn't want this, certainly. Is it still a filial murder if what you're doing is a grace? Apparently, the Olympians think so."
A deep sigh left Thanatos, and he slowly let go of the mug.
"I'll go with you. If you have to hurt me, I--,"
"Idiot!" Tisiphone snarled, shoving off of her stool and kicking away from him. "What kind of person do you think I am? Truly? You should know that of all the people in the world, mortal and immortal, I could never hurt you." She turned her back to him, shoulders dropping and arms hanging limply by her sides.
"What did you intend, then?" He asked quietly, slipping off of his own stool.
"I was going to take you to the court of Themis. I trust her. Any verdict will be irrefutable even in the face of the Olympians anger. I don't think you would be found guilty."
There was a pregnant pause, and she could almost hear the mental gears whirring in his head.
"Okay. Let's go." He said, the suddenness of his hand on her waist startling her. But it was merely to guide her outside, back into the gray dim of the day. "What do I need to do?"
"Take my hand," she said softly. He complied, and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. There was a sudden flash of darkness, and she heard Thanatos groan. She almost laughed, he could be such a wimp sometimes.
When she opened her eyes, they stood in the marble foyer of Themis' court. They stood for a moment before she realized their hands were still clasped, and quickly stepped back and away. His eyes caught hers, a curious glint in them, and she already felt dread welling up. If he asked her, she could only be honest, there was no way she could lie to him, but he had never realized it. Why would he realize it now, of all the ridiculous times?
"Tisiphone... Why is it, you said you could never hurt me?" Bastard.
"You know why."
"No. I'm not sure I do. I'm not sure I understand at all."
"Must we have this talk now? Themis is waiting!"
"Well, if I'm going to be sentenced in a non-positive light, then yes. Yes I would like to have this talk now."
"Why did you have to notice now?"
"Notice what?"
"That I love you, you dolt!" Her voice echoed loudly across the acoustic surfaces of the foyer. She cringed, taking steps back and away from him. How she hated herself in that moment.
"I... I don't... What?"
"I am well aware you don't view me in such a light, we can pretend this conversation didn't happen. May we proceed now?"
"Tisi..." The use of his nickname for her made her stomach twist into knots. Damn him. "Do you--, I mean... Are you sure? You never gave an indication before, are you sure this isn't some weird guilt thing?" The look she gave him would have left a weaker man huddled in a ball on the floor.
"How could you ask me that? You should be well aware that my affection towards the family is limited, and even those I interact with never touch me, and there's a clear reason for that. Just as it seems rather obvious why I would let you touch my hand for travel, let alone the past when you've hugged me."
"I didn't... It didn't seem possible, after...everything."
"Everything? What, you mean that time Zeus, Ares, and Poseidon took turns screwing me while Artemis, Apollo, Aphrodite, and Hera took turns torturing the shit out of me?" A harsh laugh left her. "It isn't possible for me to hold any affection towards but two true Olympians. You were never one of them though, were you? Your power is the same as mine."
"The greater power, Titan power...Yes. It is." He closed his eyes, his head hanging down. He scrubbed his hands angrily up and down his face, then straightened himself up and looked at her. "Tisiphone, if this doesn't go well, then I think I best do this now, so I won't regret inaction later." Before she could respond, he had taken her face in his hands and kissed her.
It wasn't a particularly long kiss, but it certainly was a special one, the culmination of centuries of secret feelings on both their parts, though he wouldn't admit that to her anytime soon. The god of death pining over a woman? It was mortifying to think of how she relentlessly she'd tease him with that.
Their lips drifted away, and she stared at him, seemingly lost for words. A moment passed, and then the doors to the main court opened, and they broke apart with incredible speed. Tisiphone's cheeks flamed red as Themis peeked at them curiously.
"Aren't you going to come in?"
"Of course," Tisiphone smiled, gesturing Thanatos forward. Themis turned, returning inside, with Thanatos and Tisiphone close on her heels.
Things had certainly gotten more complicated...
Worlds' Ends & Whales
Wednesday, January 6, 2016
This was it.
The edge of the precipice.
The end of the world.
Don't think me dramatic, for this is simple truth. My feet clenched on the grassy fall away, toes sinking into the sucking mud that was beneath the turf supporting me, until it made contact with the back of the galaxy whale. I cautiously leaned my upper body forward, eyes straining to see.
To see what?
Well, wasn't that the question.
The black was vast, seemingly never-ending. The only thing to break up the darkness was the faintly flickering stars. They had been dying for a long time now, and so the galaxy whale the earth sat on top of was sailing the planet through space. Even as it moved, stars blinked out of existence in its wake.
No one was certain there were any stars left to be found. The planet, the civilizations and countries and animals and plants, they might be nearing their end if no star was found soon. But still the galaxy whale swam, toward salvation or oblivion.
A sense of fear had settled in my guy, one I had become accustomed to. It was only natural. If you fell off the edge of the world...that was it. Lights out. No coming back, lost to the vast black. Just like the stars. I'd been raised on horror stories of those who had fallen from the edge. The numerous and ghastly manners in which people had perished. I didn't want to die like one of them.
An entire galaxy spread out before me, and I had been sent to look for stars that appeared to be in good health. So far, I had seen none, but still the galaxy whale moved, as if it knew where it was going. And maybe it did, but if the galaxy whale had a higher intelligence, no one had yet to be graced by its wisdom.
This was it.
The end of the world.
Maybe, even, the end of mine.
The edge of the precipice.
The end of the world.
Don't think me dramatic, for this is simple truth. My feet clenched on the grassy fall away, toes sinking into the sucking mud that was beneath the turf supporting me, until it made contact with the back of the galaxy whale. I cautiously leaned my upper body forward, eyes straining to see.
To see what?
Well, wasn't that the question.
The black was vast, seemingly never-ending. The only thing to break up the darkness was the faintly flickering stars. They had been dying for a long time now, and so the galaxy whale the earth sat on top of was sailing the planet through space. Even as it moved, stars blinked out of existence in its wake.
No one was certain there were any stars left to be found. The planet, the civilizations and countries and animals and plants, they might be nearing their end if no star was found soon. But still the galaxy whale swam, toward salvation or oblivion.
A sense of fear had settled in my guy, one I had become accustomed to. It was only natural. If you fell off the edge of the world...that was it. Lights out. No coming back, lost to the vast black. Just like the stars. I'd been raised on horror stories of those who had fallen from the edge. The numerous and ghastly manners in which people had perished. I didn't want to die like one of them.
An entire galaxy spread out before me, and I had been sent to look for stars that appeared to be in good health. So far, I had seen none, but still the galaxy whale moved, as if it knew where it was going. And maybe it did, but if the galaxy whale had a higher intelligence, no one had yet to be graced by its wisdom.
This was it.
The end of the world.
Maybe, even, the end of mine.
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