PRAECANTATIO / NATUS * !

circe. goddess. sin. → wrath. waitress & bartender @ gray's gamble.

[ciiirce]

ARABELLA REYES.

Arabella leaned forward as she grasped her glass with both hands and wore a mischievous grin. “However, long you like.” she mused, before leaning back and letting out a laugh. “Oh please, I’m a very generous soul.” When her people were impoverished, she provided them with the fruits of her labour. She turned ginger to gold. She granted blessings, on top of blessings, until they all didn’t deserve it. Now that she was a supermodel, she only gave her wealth to those who deserve it. If Circe was good company, then she had no issues handing her a couple of large bills for a few measly drinks.

It seems like her true identity was given up the moment she’d sensed her. Perfect, Maria could naturally be herself. “Times have changed Circe.” she simply replied, before taking a long sip of her drink. “Mmm…Sarap.” Delicious. Alcohol did nothing to her, as if it was like juice, but she liked expressing herself regardless. “—And I knew my worth. They don’t deserve me.” Tilting her head to the side, she raised a brow out of curiosity and diverted a similar question to her. “Has your God pardon your soul? Or are you still a wrathful prisoner?”

circe places an elbow on the bar so she’s able to place her chin onto her closed fist. flipping long braids to one side and flash a sweet, sweet smile, she replies with: “you have ten minutes.” what was circe going to say? ‘you can stay for eternity if you keep looking at me with those eyes’? no.  - well, yes. but also, no. the bar was closing and the goddess wanted to go home. “your soul isn’t the only thing your generous with,” circe smirks teasingly, “or, so i’ve heard and have never experienced, which is a real shame.” circe wasn’t one to talk, she knows this. after her husband, the goddess has had many suitors, but none came close to him. she only chose them to fill her time.

“and that’s it? that’s your whole reasoning?” she asks dully, not fully believing the diwata. it was too -- simple. “okay, relax. you just got here.” circe says while making a face and gesturing for the other to bring it down some. “give me a moment to adjust so that i can handle your confidence spiel. - unless you’re done. was that it?” circe has been listening all night. well, not fully listening since half of the ramblings that came her way were drunken, slurred rants. but they pilled up quickly. “i don’t answer to god.” she says, and keeps it at that. 

[ciiirce]

SAWYER | VALENTINA OLIVEIRA.

“How do you find all these reasons to get mad?” Ever tried meditating, she wanted to ask, but she knew not to. She respected the Goddess. And despite her position as the Gamble’s resident sinner extraordinaire, she hadn’t killed her father or burned down the bar. Both were very good reasons to like her. “This version of me is from the future… But I’m sure you’ve met others. Time’s not as linear as people think.” 

Sawyer grinned at her. “They all love to talk about you, but I guess that’s a good thing. But yeah, I’ve heard stories.” She remembered reading somewhere that Gods and Goddesses found their power in the people who still believed in them. And in a place like this, it was hard to forget people like her. “Yeah, I gathered that much…I’ll probably purge it from my systems though. It isn’t an image I’d like to remember.” 

She chuckled. “Sure, you can. Just like with every other position, you have to avoid getting caught.”  Sawyer liked Circe’s grin. To her, it was a good sign that meant that something fun was going to happen. “So… serious question, do you make people mad on purpose sometimes just to watch them descend into madness?” 

“half the time, there’s no reason at all.” circe admits. although childish, it’s true. “you and others also fail to understand that wrath isn’t always anger.” she says, fingers trailing against the edge of the bar, dark eyes skimming the people behind the child before giving a slow nod to a member by the jukebox. “them, over there; they’re uncomfortable.” slightly glazed eyes, she reads them. “they feel threatened in one way or another. i don’t know why and right now i don’t care, but that,” a finger is pointed sharply to the stranger before her eyes move to sawyer. “that is what i can feed off of. not. always. anger.”  the goddess nods, giving indication that she has met another from the future, and then, at the mention of time, circe scoffs. “don’t start with that, young one.” time didn’t mean a damn thing to her. “there is no before, during, and after, there's simply existence and occurrence.”

circe waves a hand and rolls her eyes. people always talked. she didn’t know who they where, so she chalked it up to people in general. she knew that people still whispered her name in stories. most of them wrong and inaccurate, but it’s been this way since the dawn of time. Nobody ever gets anything right with the facts of history because they weren’t there. they make sit up as they go. to make it more fun or relatable or so that they can understand. 

“i’m going to give you a short lesson, technowitch, and you better listen because i give few and far in between.” circe leans forward, eyes locking onto Sawyer. “it gets too easy. it gets boring. every living being on this planet has an end. you have an end. hell, even i have an end. it’s only prolonged. Nothing is immortal. for beings like you that have a shorter lifespan, it can all end with the snap of your fingers. but who knows. maybe that will eventually ware off for you. people aren’t linear as some might think.” circe shakes her head, standing back up right but her hands are now flat against the bar counter. “no. people do that all by themselves.” then, slowly, a grin creeps onto her lips. “i’m just the gentle nudge that gets them there.”

[shirazade]

Tessa Thompson photographed by Shaniqwa Jarvis

[mydarlinginej]

I had begun to know what fear was. What could make a god afraid? I knew that answer too.

A power greater than their own.

[ciiirce]

QUENTIN GODRICK.

godrick turned to face circe, an eyebrow rose as he heard her voice.  her sudden look of mischief was much different from what he had known for her to normally have.  gods and goddesses in the city wasn’t too far of a stretch.  it only made sense.  he cast a knowing glance toward circe but turned his attention to the open scene of the city in front of them.  “the angels …,” he muttered as he looked upward, eyeing the sky above them.  it would make sense if angels started to fall from the sky at this point.  “i’m surprised they haven’t just come down and swarmed over everything already,” he admitted with a shrug.  “though i do have to say, you sound extremely excited for all of this, circe.  i can’t believe you’re not waving around an artifact already.”

“i have never met an angel myself. nor, have i ever felt the need to meet one, but, i’ve heard they like to be fashionably late. keep people on their toes before the big finale, sort of thing,” circe chuckles excitably, following godrick’s gaze to the sky, "that’s something i can appreciate.” the goddess gives the mercenary a look. with the question she asks her voice rises, "do you know who i am?" she tsks again, persing her lips before rolling her eyes and getting to her feet with out stretched arms. "i thrive from chaos, peaches. you shouldn't be surprised about the amount of frustration and angry comes out of chaos." a laugh escapes circe that sounds as if it had come from the pit of her belly, "as fun as it would be to wield a peice of holy, holy history. i'm afraid it might burn me." she pouts, then she says as a whisper, "i also don't need it." gasping suddenly, her jaw hangs while looking at quentin. "do you have an artifact?"

[ciiirce]

ARABELLA REYES.

@ciiirce

“Another please.” mused Arabella as she locked her gaze on the bartender. Gray’s Gamble was apparently the spot to be. She knew the shits and giggles that happened around here with mercenaries and all sorts of interesting beings. However, what caught her attention was the goddess in front of her.

Sure, she was a deity, similar despite different cultures, but each goddess had their fair share of stories and Maria was interested in hers. “So, is this resting bitch face your regular look? Or am I able to get a smile out of ya?” 

“that depends on how long you plan on sticking around for,” circe says, features unchanging as she leans her forearms against the bar counter, pushing arabella’s drink towards her, “and how well you tip, diwata,” she lets the word roll off her tongue as she moves back into a standing position, looking over the brunette before her. 

contrary to popular belief, circe is not all-knowing. she's just able to pick up easily on the vibes others give out. there were similar energies between her own nymph companions while she was still living her mythical island of aeaea, though this one specifically, felt more powerful. this nature-based spirit before her gave circe a slightly nostalgic feeling because of it. circe also read. a lot. “what made you come crawling out of that mountain of yours?”

[ciiirce]

quentin godrick.

“well, that’s just fucking crazy,” godrick muttered under his breath as he swiped through the posts on the gamble’s server.  he shook his head as read through the reports the other mercs had started to share - blue monsters and killer angels(? that one was iffy to considering it was passed on by remoridal and from a past mission, godrick could not trust that man) and of course, the curious idea that these powerful weapons from heaven have been spread through the city.  he wasn’t so much as worried about the weapons hitting the city, but moreso about the people who had the weapons.  the artifacts were carried through the world, showcased in front of people with wealth and many of them with ill-intent - if someone had their hands on the artifact, godrick could swear that a target would be painted on them.

“every time that you think ceres couldn’t get anymore insane,” godrick said aloud, leaning back on the park bench.  he stared up at the sky momentarily before he finished his thought, “something even worse happens.  it’s like you can never prepare for what ceres will do.”

circe felt the chaos like a raw nerve.  and god, did it ever give her an adventurous feeling. she felt like a young goddess again! brand new and thriving. the aliens were good. but this, oh, -- oh, to the gods above this was so much better. circe has to admit that she wasn’t happy not waking up with one of these stolen artifacts on her bedside waiting for her. she would have absolutely loved to have one of these precious things in her possession. there were also monsters running around the city. circe had yet to spot any. yet, she so excitedly hopes it's a monster she recognizes. perhaphs someone she's even turned into a beast by her own hand. what a reunion that would be!

"godrick, godrick, godrick," circe tsks with her tongue against perfect teeth. "if only you knew the true meaning of insane." she sits down beside the mercenary all too comfortable. looking around, keeping her eye open and hopefully. "maybe you can never prepare, but you can always adapt." dark eyes filled with mischief snap over to godrick, a grin on her lips, "besides, there's already gods and goddess in the city. no surprise that the angels decided to make an appearance. they probably felt left out. attention whores. beautiful, but are they ever needy.""

[dailytessa]

Tessa Thompson by Awol Erizku for The Cut (2018)

[oceansabove]

sea salt

maybe i never wanted solid ground, but never knew it. never found another way. in the middle of the ocean, there is a special kind of numb. an open kind. speech is not enough. i understand it never was. it is not forgetting but letting be. not letting go but making new. i find hope in the exquisite curl of the waves against a wooden hull. in this moment: i imagine to see clear through the water to the beginning of the world.

6/18/18

[r-siken-deactivated20210531]

dirty valentine, richard siken

[ciiirce]

grace vale doe.

Grace lips formed into an ‘O’ as she stared at her Aunt in awkward silence. She would have wanted to protest that she wasn’t kissing her ass, but of course she was like an open book to Circe. Instead she chuckled nervously and waved the woman off as if what she did wasn’t a big deal. “Oh Auntie, I was merely pointing out the obvious, but if you insist.” She then moved onto the subject of humans and listened attentively to her perspective of things. “Hm true, everyone has their moments and then it’s the littlest things that tick them off.” She took another sip of her drink and hummed in agreement, “Ouuu the cookie one is the worst and of course we shouldn’t underestimate them, but they’re simply easy beings to deal with in general. Their wants and needs say it all.”

If Grace could facepalm herself at this very moment, she would. Thousands of years of history and yet she couldn’t nail her Aunt’s timeline of her life. “Oh yeah…” she replied with a frown. “You’re stuck here.” Realizing that she was too blunt for her own good, Grace braced herself as brown hues turned immediate black for any retaliation that came her way. “Auntie Circe, in no means are my intentions to ever want to insult, nor disrespect you.” she truthfully replied. Downing her drink in one go, she then slid the glass over to the bartender and forced out a smile, “I can see that and yet, here I thought I could be your ray of sunshine on your cloudy day.” 

Circe moves in a fluid motion, just as an ancient, island Witch does. One who looked upon her would probably think she’s dancing when really, she’s only pulling out a stool to sit on.  “Their lives are so short.” She says, eyes glazing over in thought. “Their lives are so short, and they know it. Deep down.” Coming back into focus, her eyes dart to Grace. “Unlike us. Would you not be ticked off too, if you had such little time to do the things you want to do?” Circe always found it funny how the gods deemed themselves superior to humans. And why? Because they lived longer? The gods are children. Always squabbling. Never apologizing.

“I have yet to come across any being or species that enjoys oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. Why do they still even exist? – Sounds like a move I would do…” Did she keep disgusting cookies around to ruin someone’s day? Gods… Circe might have tricked herself with her own lame joke. “Do your wants and needs not say it all as well, Little Death?” It was a genuine question.

Perhaps she was being too hard on the young goddess. Circe liked Grace. They shared a few of the same qualities and the same outlooks. But she was young. Incredibly young. Circe was old. Incredibly old. That was explanation enough, in the goddess eyes. “Who raised you? What are their names?” She asks, looking at Grace with a look that was between amusement and curiosity. “I should visit them. Let them know that they gave you decent manners. Parents like hearing that, right?” It might have sounded odd coming from Circe. Maybe even close to a threat in Grace’s eyes since this was not something Circe did regularly. "Not a ray of sunshine... You are much better company than these morons." She gestures to the drunken group behind Grace. "I'll give you that."

[ciiirce]

hunter daniels. ‌

The Gamble felt different.  The moment that Hunter entered The Gamble, he could feel the change.  Though he had his powers back, he swore he could feel how different the place was.   The die-hard patrons were there, but it was a lot less crowded than usual.  With a quick look around, Hunter could tell that the person he’d originally looked for wasn’t there.  With that dead-end, he shrugged and decided it was time to drink something to take the edge off it.  The top floor of the bar was okay, but the second floor was where all the good stuff was and all the fun people.

“Yo,” Hunter greeted as he slid into his usual seat at the bar.  He sat down comfortably and then took a second look around, eyeing the entirety of the lower level.  "An old fashioned,” Hunter requested his drink.  As he waited, he turned his attention over to the familiar waitress, “It’s weird when this place gets as slow as right now.”  He turned around in his seat, looking around again before he teased, “What did you kill all of them?”

@ciiirce

Sitting on her own bar stool, Circe isn’t on a break as she scrolls through her Instagram timeline. The change was going to happen. A change was inevitable, and really, Circe was rather surprised it took this long, and now that it’s happened Circe felt indifferent. Gray was gone, Isaac – whoever in the Underworld that was – is in charge and she didn’t really care. As long as she still had a job at the end of the day and kept her regular hours, there was going to be no fuss from the sorceress.

Dark eyes lazily move from the phone screen the man who takes a seat at the bar. Hunter Daniels. She was wondering when he was going to make a reappearance, whether he was dead or not. Or was he somewhere in-between? She couldn’t remember what a few spirits had told her. Circe wasn’t really listening. She found souls to be too whiney. Tossing her phone onto the counter, she slipped off her seat to make his drink. “It is what it is.” She says, eyes drifting over the new customers. She’ll admit, if it was going to be this quiet, Circe was going to miss throwing bricks at drunks. A slow grin slips on her lips before asking, “Are you wired?”  She gives him his drink. The right one, no tricks or gimmicks, plus a shot on the side. “Welcome back, Zombie Boy.” There’s an arch of a brow when she says, “So, you were too stupid to stay dead. That’s a whole new ball game.”

[ciiirce]

sawyer | valentina oliveira.

She learned many great lessons from her parents and one of them was to never get drunk in the Gamble when Gray wasn’t around. It wasn’t that she couldn’t protect herself while intoxicated. If anything, one of her godfathers had shown her the art in drunken boxing. Her parents seemed to want her to know that having a clear mind meant that she could deal with the change in patrons. Ever since her father took a break, so did many of his trusted mercenaries, which was expected, considering that they were only loyal to him. 

But that didn’t mean all her favorite people had disappeared. She approached the bar and then reached over to get herself a cup of water. “Hello, Goddess, ma’am.” She smiled at Circe. “So, who pissed you off today? It couldn’t have been me. I just got here.” Sawyer then took a crumpled Benjamin from her pocket and slammed it down on the counter between them. “My bet is on the guy who has a mop on his head, runs around and thinks he owns the place. I’ve never quite understood that. You’ve been here longer.” // @ciiirce

“Another child of the future,” Circe breathes out, arms apart she plants her palms against the counter while running her tongue against her top teeth. Circe should have known when Grace first made an appearance and went she felt something was off over a month ago, now. There must be more of them which was an interesting thought, - but in the long run, it seemed like more of a problem. One that Circe didn’t want to deal with. One Circe didn’t want to be part of, and yet, these kids seemed to be filing in whenever they please. 

Then again, this was the manager's daughter. Ex-manager? Who cares. She’s here, and her sudden presence is incredibly disruptive. 

“You would be surprised who easily I can be ticked off, TechnoWitch. - Then again, you should already know this, should you not?” Her head tilts, staring at the young one through narrowed eyes. “Mmm, he’s one of them. He’s throwing up more than the patrons, and he isn’t intoxicated.” Circe is letting him clean up his own messes. One was enough. Her good deed for the week was done. “I’m fine with my position. You can’t get away with anything when you’re the manager.” Her signature frown turns into her more signature, impish grin.

[ciiirce]

 ulrik the first. 

“Now, now, none of this would do.” The Seventh District of the city was notorious for the the occult and home to many witches, but even he could tell that things had been going far too quiet in this part of Ceres. When things seemed calm and magic remained hidden, he knew that it was time to check out things. After all, it had been far too long since a catastrophe in this city. Ulrik stopped in front of River Styx and gently knocked on the door. It may have been a shop, but the founder knew how to treat a coven with respect. “Oh, don’t mind me.” He said moving out of the way for a customer. “I’m waiting for someone.”

Gracing River Styx with her presence, Circe easily keeps to herself. She picks up books and flips through the pages, she lifts incenses to her nose and lets their perfume fill her senses, she choose candles to restock for both spells for the simple aesthetic. Other than Gray’s Gamble or her home, Circe doesn’t usual leave those two premises. If she does - the sorceress makes her errands quick. That’s why when someone speaks to her, she feels her nose tingle with annoyance. Though, feeling the strong existence of the other being, Circe realized she knew just who spoke to her. It was also the same feeling when Death arrived, although a little colder and this child was more intense.  “... And who could you possibly be meeting, Son of Mars?”  Circe turns, letting the demigod see her face, eyes shining. Normally, she wouldn’t bother asking such a question, - on the other hand. demigods always held her interest longer than most. They were interesting creatures. Half human, half god. Sometimes even all of that and more. Interesting creatures, indeed. 

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

I’ve seen a lot of beautiful things with a heavy heart.

Albert Camus, from A Happy Death

[ofhotheads-blog]

Get to know the people in my muse’s life.

Send me a symbol and I’ll tell you about…

🌟 …someone my muse trusts. 💔 …someone who broke my muse’s heart. 💕 …someone my muse loves.  😒 …someone my muse hates. 🔥…someone my muse would die for. 💀 …someone my muse would kill for. 👻 …someone my muse considers a best friend. 💘 …someone my muse has a crush on. 🔪 …someone my muse hurt in the past. 👀 …someone my muse likes, but doesn’t trust. 💩 …someone my muse dislikes, but admires. 👿 …someone my muse used to like, but doesn’t anymore. 😉 …someone my muse has had sex with. 💋 …someone my muse used to date. 😜 …someone who makes my muse laugh. 👪 …someone in my muse’s family. 👑 …someone my muse is jealous of. 👊 …someone who hates my muse. 👫 …someone who has a crush on my muse. 👌 …someone my muse has only met once, but will never forget. 🍓…someone my muse has never met, but wants to meet. 👰 …someone my muse would consider marrying.

[angelicgays]

“But gods are born of ichor and nectar, their excellences already bursting from their fingertips. So they find their fame by proving what they can mar: destroying cities, starting wars, breeding plagues and monsters. All that smoke and savour rising so delicately from our altars. It leaves only ash behind.”

               – Madeline Miller, Circe