“Has it occurred to you that I was seeking your attention because I actually wished to converse with you? But I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked, considering none of you actually think I have actual autonomy outside of my own fulfillment as a goddess. Well, guess what. You’re wrong.”
Her voice echoed and bellowed on that last word, heavily contrasting her normally soft and mellow tone. She wasn’t angry so much as exasperated, and yet even she knew, deep down inside, feeling such emotions were pointless. There was no right or wrong in her actions, and the same can arguably be said for any other deity, yet this hypocrisy has always earned Clotho’s scorn.
“But…. I will admit, you’re right. It is a redundant, time wasting question, but its hardly because I’m being fickle. I do what I do because that is who I am. I’m not simply a manipulator of fate, I’m FATE itself, just as you are Ritualistic Madness, among other things. Everyone knows who I am and what I do, I’m not limited to just the name of ‘Clotho’ or ‘The Spinner.’ They can pretend to forget, but alas, its impossible. And I highly doubt anyone forget someone has…. remarkably unforgettable as your presence. I decide what to do so I keep the everything in balance in my mother’s wishes, not necessarily because ‘it’s what I want’.Other gods manipulate, bend, create and destroy simply out of their own volition. Contrary to popular belief, they don’t even need my help or interference to do so, that is often their choice. And they’re celebrated for days on end for being ‘fierce forces of nature that can’t be contained or commanded’. You can’t blame me for finding it rather….. baffling at best, and agitating at worst…. sometimes. But if that’s how it has to be, then I guess, so be it.”
All she could do now is sigh, collecting herself mentally as she raises up her hands, wiggling all of her fingers in a seemingly random order. “Not shocked… ? I’ll believe that when I see it. True, there are a few that accept their fate, but most of them go stark white in fear or boil red with rage….when they realize that they can’t control forces behind their comprehension, that there is always someone above, and assuming you are no different from the rest……”
A faint, eerily cryptic smirk appeared on her face, as the more her fingers moved accordingly, the more that it was revealed that nearly invisible threads were attached to them, all wrapped around not only those fingers, but even her neck, wrists, ankles and toes. There were many, many more that existed, but the ones that she chose to show now, were the ones that were connected straight to Dionysus. These threads were not only usually invisible, but intangible, and couldn’t possibly be physically felt but anyone but a Fate, but they served a purpose. A reminder that everything is connected in a web of Fate, and they all lead back to a single source. An inescapable, messy, tangled mess that can leave either one feeling ultimately trapped. Such is the inevitable dread that is Destiny.
“…….I’m curious, which color would you be? Red of white? Or blue, if these threads could actually suffocate someone. Well, in a literal sense~”
