2 lots of brownies baked for sunday, car emptied of all my camping gear from the last event 6 weeks ago (don’t ask), bathroom cleaned and I’m just going to put laundry on.
Then I’m off to Empire. Not camping this time because I’m fucking broken, and I live half an hour from site, and because on sunday, a bunch of us are GOING TO THE ZOO!
Anyway, my phone signal is pretty shit on site, and I’m normally pretty busy, and I won’t be home til god knows when in the morning, but the queue is up and running, and there will probably be facepaint selfies at some point.
Excellent day off, many things done. This evening comprised of beer, not enough food, posting fic and realising I don't have enough liquid latex for tomorrow's LARP. I'm fairly sure I'm almost out of rigid collodion as well. This will teach me not to hideously mutilate my characters. Also my wisdom tooth is pissing me off. I am wise enough as it is and hate dentists. Could it possibly just stop.
3 day weekend! Saturday I am LARPing and shit, but tomorrow and sunday I get to chill :D
Tomorrow I get to pick up large amounts of gorgeous fabric (which has destroyed my bank account because the pount / dollar conversion is not good right now and customs charges are a bitch) but it will be turned into stuff I can sell!
Right. I'm off to a field for the weekend. I think I'm running a fever, I feel like absolute shite, but I'm booked for stuff so I have to show up. I'm not convinced I'm going to make it the whole weekend. And then on Monday, when I'm likely still dying from the weekend, I have my yearly pill check where I have to convince the nurse that I know I'm overweight and I know my blood pressure is the worst but could they please let me stay on this pill because it mostly stops my periods make me want to remove my uterus with a spoon (only mostly, they're still far too frequent and too painful, but I'm not living off painkillers these days) so that will be fun. And then Tuesday is back to work, where I hate everyone, and they hate me.
More vague Odyssey related rambles. I think I’m putting them here because I’m too scared to put them on facebook; my friends are actually good writers, and I’m too terrified this is all self indulgent fluff.
"I would say that's not appropriate, but..." Phoebe looks at the remains of the chaos in front of her and tries to hide a smile. There are chitons strewn all over the place, jugs cracked on the floor and cups scattered all over. If she didn't know better she'd think she was looking at a temple of Dionysus. The two boys awake enough to be cleaning up, half heartedly remind her so strongly of Meander it hurts. The older Ithican is still around, still seems to spend half his life clearing up after his kin, but to see the next generation doing the same is strange.
"Priest," one of them manages, holding out a jug of wine to her. "Will you join us?"S
he shakes her head, "Too early for me, but don't let me stop you." She picks her way past them, picking up the odd bit of detritus, and makes her way to the central altar.
"You'd be pleased, I'm sure," she says to the empty space. "Everyone drinks in your name, tonight there'll be all kinds of trickery and chaos in your name."
Priest of Cleonidas is far easier a job than priest of Hermes ever was. Too easy. She has too much time to spare and she's avoiding something, something she hasn't quite defined yet.
Once upon a time she would have asked Lysandra what to do (or at least she thinks she would have, if they’d had time for this to be a thing they actually talked about), but now she just has a tree and her imagination of what her friend would have said.
Her footsteps take her to that tree anyway, and she sits in its shade, "At least if he'd gone off to that island, I could have gone back to the underworld, I wouldn't have to watch everyone get old."
It's the kind of thing she thinks Lysandra would have laughed at, reminded her that she offered to speak to Apollo to fix her, that she got to live and love."I never asked for that though," she reminds her friend who is a tree. "In fact I very clearly said I didn't want it. I wanted a trial period, or something. I didn't ask for this."
She doesn't really know why she's worrying; after fifteen years most of them still have plenty of life left in them, but it's becoming more obvious that they're getting older.
I have a lot of feels from Odyssey. I am still compiling my froth post (it’s really hard to write about an IC relationship without coming across a bit weird) (also I keep making myself cry)
Anyway, there is lots of fic being written, and now Phoebe’s tragic backstory (which isn’t actually very tragic) is out, I figured I’d join in the party.
“But Kyriod said...”
“When are you going to stop trusting the priest of Eris?”
Phoebe shrugs, “It makes sense though.”
The other priest laughs, “Of course it does. It’s all rubbish though, whatever works best to cause the most trouble later down the line. Surely a priestess of Hermes can see between the lines?” The disdain was obvious, at least they didn’t remind her that technically she was breaking divine law by continuing to worship Hermes.
“There’s nothing between the lines. He wouldn’t lie like that when Greece is on the line.”
“Suit yourself.” The older priest stands and limps off. Serdika is full of priests, but they all bow to Hades or Ares, a few to Hera or Demeter, and the younger ones flocking to Nike and the Dogs of War. There was little respect for the God of Tricksters, even before he was consumed by Thoth, and even less respect for the Goddess of Discord.
Phoebe sighs and brushes herself off as she gets to her feet. She pays her final respects to the Lord of the Underworld, an offering in the name of her parents left.
As she wanders the city, she thinks of the letters she should write; to Lysandra about the problems that they have, to Calliope and Sadiki to make apologies for things she has no power to apologise for. Chances are that she won’t write them, she’s too easily distracted, too ashamed, too clumsy with words.
She catches a brief glimpse of someone who looks too much like Androcles and she thinks of the knife on her belt, but that’s another thing she still can’t do. Another lesson that she’s learning the hard way.
You can’t kill the people you love, but you can’t love the people you can’t trust. Or at least you shouldn’t.
Maybe next annual she’ll let someone do it for her.
Maybe next annual the priests of other nations will stop treating her and Lysandra like foolish children.
Maybe next annual she’ll be quick enough to match words with Kyriod, rather than fumbling her way through conversations and getting flustered whenever he agrees with her.
I am so very very emotionally broken right now. Phoebe got everything she wanted and more at the end of Odyssey, but it was so intense, and to walk away knowing I will never play that character again, I will never have those relationships again, it hurts. (also the reason I generally don't do IC relationships... the bleed is horrific)