[identity profile] lugh-thecelt.livejournal.com
The Marks Ranch
Dawn, Thursday 5 November


Today has come.

I knew it would.

Like the sand knows the surf will come.

It always does.

The house is silent. It has been since he left. There's no joy here any more. Her smiles all are tinged with sadness. Her anger is tinged with sadness. How long will it go on and on and on like this?

I watch her from the doorway as she lays on the chaise in the courtyard, eyes staring blankly at the yellow and orange and blue tinted clouds passing overhead lazily. Might be more rain soon.


[OPEN to Eris]

[CLOSED]
[identity profile] lugh-thecelt.livejournal.com
The Marks Ranch
Dawn, Thursday 5 November


Today has come.

I knew it would.

Like the sand knows the surf will come.

It always does.

The house is silent. It has been since he left. There's no joy here any more. Her smiles all are tinged with sadness. Her anger is tinged with sadness. How long will it go on and on and on like this?

I watch her from the doorway as she lays on the chaise in the courtyard, eyes staring blankly at the yellow and orange and blue tinted clouds passing overhead lazily. Might be more rain soon.


[OPEN to Eris]

[CLOSED]
[identity profile] cain-excolo.livejournal.com
The Mark's Ranch
Afternoon, Thursday, 23 October


Pausing on the stoop, feet from the door, I take in a deep breath.

I have not seen her since our disagreement. I do not know if I am still her worshiper. I do not know how the death of Ares has affected her.

It is quite possible that she has already left Excolo. I cannot sense her the way that, I suppose, Kaeli sense Lúgh. I have seen him, anyway. At Laurence's church this past Sunday. It was odd to see him there. A god attending the service of another god is strange, especially when the other god is touted as being the Creator, the greatest of all the gods. I have not met many gods that were comfortable knowing that they are not the strongest or most knowledgeable or the eldest.

I inhale deeply again, step forth, and rap my knuckles against the door. The breath escapes in a slow exhale as I await an answer that I do not know will arrive.


[OPEN to Eris]

[CLOSED]
[identity profile] cain-excolo.livejournal.com
The Mark's Ranch
Afternoon, Thursday, 23 October


Pausing on the stoop, feet from the door, I take in a deep breath.

I have not seen her since our disagreement. I do not know if I am still her worshiper. I do not know how the death of Ares has affected her.

It is quite possible that she has already left Excolo. I cannot sense her the way that, I suppose, Kaeli sense Lúgh. I have seen him, anyway. At Laurence's church this past Sunday. It was odd to see him there. A god attending the service of another god is strange, especially when the other god is touted as being the Creator, the greatest of all the gods. I have not met many gods that were comfortable knowing that they are not the strongest or most knowledgeable or the eldest.

I inhale deeply again, step forth, and rap my knuckles against the door. The breath escapes in a slow exhale as I await an answer that I do not know will arrive.


[OPEN to Eris]

[CLOSED]
[identity profile] maryk-graeb.livejournal.com
The Marks Ranch
Midday, Friday 16 October


The gossip at the General Store and the Miskatonic and on Main Street and along Silk Road has been the disaster at the Voronin place. Some woman named Anushka died. As far as I can remember, I never met her. No loss there.

The other one that was there, however, was Anthony Marks. Ares. Eris' brother.

I told Karina where I was going. That I didn't know how long I'd be. She understands. At least, she puts up a really convincing show of understanding. Maybe she'll go find Lúgh to make sure he's doing OK.

I don't knock. I haven't knocked in ages. Eris told me to stop that. So, I walk in through the unlocked door. It looks exactly like it did last time I was here. Except the house isn't just quiet. It's silent in the way cemetaries at two in the morning are silent.

Slowly, I shut the door behind me and take a few steps into the room. Maybe Eris isn't even here.

[OPEN to Eris]

[CLOSED]
[identity profile] maryk-graeb.livejournal.com
The Marks Ranch
Midday, Friday 16 October


The gossip at the General Store and the Miskatonic and on Main Street and along Silk Road has been the disaster at the Voronin place. Some woman named Anushka died. As far as I can remember, I never met her. No loss there.

The other one that was there, however, was Anthony Marks. Ares. Eris' brother.

I told Karina where I was going. That I didn't know how long I'd be. She understands. At least, she puts up a really convincing show of understanding. Maybe she'll go find Lúgh to make sure he's doing OK.

I don't knock. I haven't knocked in ages. Eris told me to stop that. So, I walk in through the unlocked door. It looks exactly like it did last time I was here. Except the house isn't just quiet. It's silent in the way cemetaries at two in the morning are silent.

Slowly, I shut the door behind me and take a few steps into the room. Maybe Eris isn't even here.

[OPEN to Eris]

[CLOSED]
[identity profile] erisdiscordious.livejournal.com
Noon of Day 137


I don't know how long I was there, pressed to the stone. It was no longer cold under this coil, but I was. That's what Lúgh said. That I was cold. I should get up. Aphrodite slithers over my body, whispering in my ear. I can't hear what she says. I can stare. That I can do.

Finally, I pull myself to a stand. I don't fix my hair or worry over my appearance. I don't look for Lúgh.

I look for the one who is at fault for this.

Silk swirls around my body at the move of my hips and the stir of Chaos about me. I see dust rising on the road and I know. Father allows me that much.

I stop dead in the middle and wait.

Come to me, dear Luke, dear Cleopatra reborn. You and I have unfinished business.


[OPEN to Luke.]
[identity profile] erisdiscordious.livejournal.com
Noon of Day 137


I don't know how long I was there, pressed to the stone. It was no longer cold under this coil, but I was. That's what Lúgh said. That I was cold. I should get up. Aphrodite slithers over my body, whispering in my ear. I can't hear what she says. I can stare. That I can do.

Finally, I pull myself to a stand. I don't fix my hair or worry over my appearance. I don't look for Lúgh.

I look for the one who is at fault for this.

Silk swirls around my body at the move of my hips and the stir of Chaos about me. I see dust rising on the road and I know. Father allows me that much.

I stop dead in the middle and wait.

Come to me, dear Luke, dear Cleopatra reborn. You and I have unfinished business.


[OPEN to Luke.]
[identity profile] erisdiscordious.livejournal.com
the Marks' Ranch
Mid-morning of Day 136



I awaken with a pain in my head, my stomach, my teeth, my feet. Blood. There is blood and pain and--

I sit up straight in bed and run to Ares' room. It is empty. I knew it was empty. I clutch the sides of the doorway with my fingers and cry out, not caring if my fingers or the wood break under the pressure.

No. Ares. No. My eyes well up with tears. I rush out into the courtyard, the best place I can see the sky, and it is clear. The sun dares shine at a time like this.

"I HATE YOU," I scream to my father and I know he can hear me. Not again. Not again. My knees buckle and I collapse on the stone. "Damn you," I whisper and feel my face touch the cool stone. There's a puddle beneath my face, water pouring from these mortal eyes.


Ares. No.




They always leave.



[CLOSED.]
[identity profile] erisdiscordious.livejournal.com
the Marks' Ranch
Mid-morning of Day 136



I awaken with a pain in my head, my stomach, my teeth, my feet. Blood. There is blood and pain and--

I sit up straight in bed and run to Ares' room. It is empty. I knew it was empty. I clutch the sides of the doorway with my fingers and cry out, not caring if my fingers or the wood break under the pressure.

No. Ares. No. My eyes well up with tears. I rush out into the courtyard, the best place I can see the sky, and it is clear. The sun dares shine at a time like this.

"I HATE YOU," I scream to my father and I know he can hear me. Not again. Not again. My knees buckle and I collapse on the stone. "Damn you," I whisper and feel my face touch the cool stone. There's a puddle beneath my face, water pouring from these mortal eyes.


Ares. No.




They always leave.



[CLOSED.]
[identity profile] ares-thracian.livejournal.com
Tuesday, October 13th
Day 135
Morning


I have not slept. The bitch has deviled me for the past two days; everywhere I look she is there. She was there last night, where I went to get far away from here. Away from this town, away from the fire that seems to plague this body, away from it all. As far and as fast as I rode, the moment I stopped, she was there and her laughter made the flames inside me rise higher. That was the last thing I heard, before the blood and the pain and the clash of swords in battle. When I could hear again, there was nothing but silence as the town burned around me, the ground littered with bodies and soaked in blood. There was nothing left but me and my laughter roared over the flames.

The pen pauses in my hand as I think on these things and my resolve is firmer than it ever was. I need to get far the fuck away from this town and fast, before it happens again and there’s nothing left but blood and ash. As much as it made my blood sing, the core of what I am stretch to free itself from its confines, and I am losing control. I will not allow it to happen here.

All of the books, records and other various items will be moved tomorrow and weapons sent to their designated places. The papers for Simon have been signed, and all I have left to finish is this wretched paper in front of me. If I can fucking finish it. Who would have thought something as simple as this would prove to be such a cunt. As for the rest in this house, I care not. I have clung to it all for far longer than I should, it is time to leave it behind. Save the things that have always belonged to me and are part of what I am, and one more thing beyond that. As I think of it, my fingers run down the near smooth edges of the bit of stone that still hangs from a leather thong around my neck. My lips pull into a small grin as I bend my head and pen the words that would not come before.

My grin grows wider as the others in the house stir and I fold the last letter and place it in an envelope with the other documents and the bit of metal that will accompany it. Everything is set. As I leave, I close the door to my room and head for the main one. I was mistaken, there is one more thing I must do. Now let’s see if she’ll let me go. Not that she has a choice.

[OPEN TO LÚGH AND ERIS]   [CLOSED]
[identity profile] ares-thracian.livejournal.com
Tuesday, October 13th
Day 135
Morning


I have not slept. The bitch has deviled me for the past two days; everywhere I look she is there. She was there last night, where I went to get far away from here. Away from this town, away from the fire that seems to plague this body, away from it all. As far and as fast as I rode, the moment I stopped, she was there and her laughter made the flames inside me rise higher. That was the last thing I heard, before the blood and the pain and the clash of swords in battle. When I could hear again, there was nothing but silence as the town burned around me, the ground littered with bodies and soaked in blood. There was nothing left but me and my laughter roared over the flames.

The pen pauses in my hand as I think on these things and my resolve is firmer than it ever was. I need to get far the fuck away from this town and fast, before it happens again and there’s nothing left but blood and ash. As much as it made my blood sing, the core of what I am stretch to free itself from its confines, and I am losing control. I will not allow it to happen here.

All of the books, records and other various items will be moved tomorrow and weapons sent to their designated places. The papers for Simon have been signed, and all I have left to finish is this wretched paper in front of me. If I can fucking finish it. Who would have thought something as simple as this would prove to be such a cunt. As for the rest in this house, I care not. I have clung to it all for far longer than I should, it is time to leave it behind. Save the things that have always belonged to me and are part of what I am, and one more thing beyond that. As I think of it, my fingers run down the near smooth edges of the bit of stone that still hangs from a leather thong around my neck. My lips pull into a small grin as I bend my head and pen the words that would not come before.

My grin grows wider as the others in the house stir and I fold the last letter and place it in an envelope with the other documents and the bit of metal that will accompany it. Everything is set. As I leave, I close the door to my room and head for the main one. I was mistaken, there is one more thing I must do. Now let’s see if she’ll let me go. Not that she has a choice.

[OPEN TO LÚGH AND ERIS]   [CLOSED]
[identity profile] maryk-graeb.livejournal.com
The River
Early Morning, Friday 2 October


Can't sleep again. "Can't" isn't the right word. "Won't" or "don't" are more accurate. I think Karina went to find Lúgh the other day. Nothing's changed. Don't think she can help, but what do I have to lose. She'll laugh. Brush it off. Smile at me. And that'll be it.

Maybe. But maybe. There's something she can do. Maybe Lúgh can do something and will if he hears it from both of them. How could anyone say "no" to two women they love? Especially those two.

The water's gurgling past, like always. The river's so consistent, so lasting. I breathe in deeply. My hand's on Tempest as she stirs.

Eris, I whisper in my mind. "Eris," I whisper on my lips.

[OPEN to Eris]

[CLOSED]
[identity profile] maryk-graeb.livejournal.com
The River
Early Morning, Friday 2 October


Can't sleep again. "Can't" isn't the right word. "Won't" or "don't" are more accurate. I think Karina went to find Lúgh the other day. Nothing's changed. Don't think she can help, but what do I have to lose. She'll laugh. Brush it off. Smile at me. And that'll be it.

Maybe. But maybe. There's something she can do. Maybe Lúgh can do something and will if he hears it from both of them. How could anyone say "no" to two women they love? Especially those two.

The water's gurgling past, like always. The river's so consistent, so lasting. I breathe in deeply. My hand's on Tempest as she stirs.

Eris, I whisper in my mind. "Eris," I whisper on my lips.

[OPEN to Eris]

[CLOSED]
[identity profile] lugh-thecelt.livejournal.com
The Marks Ranch
Dawn, Friday 25 September


Now, what is rounder than a ring,
And higher than the trees?
And what is worse than a woman's curse,
And what is deeper than the sea?
And which bird sings first, which one best?
Where does the dew first fall
And you and I in a bed might lie



Eris......Eeerrrrrrriiiiiiisssssssss......

My lips draw back in a grin. My eyes slowly open.

Earth is rounder than a ring,
And Heaven is higher than the trees.


She's here in my arms.

The Devil is worse than a woman's curse,
And Hell is deeper than the sea.


I draw her close to me, inhaling the smell of olive trees and lightning and Disorder.

The lark sings first and the thrush sings best
And the earth is where the dew falls


"And you and I in a bed must lie,
Roll me over next to the wall."

I place my lips softly against her forehead and sigh softly.

[OPEN to Eris]

[CLOSED]
[identity profile] lugh-thecelt.livejournal.com
The Marks Ranch
Dawn, Friday 25 September


Now, what is rounder than a ring,
And higher than the trees?
And what is worse than a woman's curse,
And what is deeper than the sea?
And which bird sings first, which one best?
Where does the dew first fall
And you and I in a bed might lie



Eris......Eeerrrrrrriiiiiiisssssssss......

My lips draw back in a grin. My eyes slowly open.

Earth is rounder than a ring,
And Heaven is higher than the trees.


She's here in my arms.

The Devil is worse than a woman's curse,
And Hell is deeper than the sea.


I draw her close to me, inhaling the smell of olive trees and lightning and Disorder.

The lark sings first and the thrush sings best
And the earth is where the dew falls


"And you and I in a bed must lie,
Roll me over next to the wall."

I place my lips softly against her forehead and sigh softly.

[OPEN to Eris]

[CLOSED]
[identity profile] cain-excolo.livejournal.com
The Marks' Ranch
Morning, Wednesday 23 September


Work filled my day yesterday. Kaeli and I both spent time pouring over books the last two nights. I came up rather empty handed in my searches. I know a good deal about Ares and Eris, but nothing that would be useful against them. As much as I would like to find something, I am very torn about whether I would actually share a weakness of Eris' should I discover one. This conversation may change things considerably, however.

I take a deep breath and raise my fist. A momentary hesitation causes me to pause my fist halfway to the door. What if it was her? What if she is using it to get to me for not visiting sooner? What if she answers the door and the proof of her being with child is clearly present?

My knuckles rap against the hardwood door and I step back. I have no idea what to expect of this but the sinking feeling in my gut tells me it will not go pleasantly.

[OPEN to Eris]

[CLOSED]
[identity profile] cain-excolo.livejournal.com
The Marks' Ranch
Morning, Wednesday 23 September


Work filled my day yesterday. Kaeli and I both spent time pouring over books the last two nights. I came up rather empty handed in my searches. I know a good deal about Ares and Eris, but nothing that would be useful against them. As much as I would like to find something, I am very torn about whether I would actually share a weakness of Eris' should I discover one. This conversation may change things considerably, however.

I take a deep breath and raise my fist. A momentary hesitation causes me to pause my fist halfway to the door. What if it was her? What if she is using it to get to me for not visiting sooner? What if she answers the door and the proof of her being with child is clearly present?

My knuckles rap against the hardwood door and I step back. I have no idea what to expect of this but the sinking feeling in my gut tells me it will not go pleasantly.

[OPEN to Eris]

[CLOSED]
[identity profile] kateohara.livejournal.com
Nobody lives forever -
The crassest of clichés,
Like time,
Time is the greatest healer;
But it’s a murderer today


Tuesday, around 5pm

I spent most of the day yesterday feeling numb. I walked home after I spoke to Laurence, but I couldn't face my empty apartment, somehow, and so I saddled Lady and we went for a ride in the rain. It was silly, really; I was soaked through when we got back, and I had to give Lady a hot mash to make sure she didn't get cold. Then I went upstairs and sat in the bath, and I cried for a while, and after that I felt clean and empty inside, like I had been washed inside as well as on the outside.

Laurence's clock kept ticking as I sat. Eventually I had to put it in the cupboard. It's too lovely to stay there forever, but yesterday... I didn't want to hear it.

Today, at least, I had work to do. It was a busy enough day, perhaps because it's drier than it was yesterday. People were gossiping about things, but I barely heard what they were saying. I kept wondering - have I done the right thing? If it is the right thing, should it hurt like this? But it's the only way forward I can see.

I've just closed up the store. It's strange; I don't feel like seeking anyone out to talk to, but somehow I don't want to go home and sit alone. Dinner at the cafe seems like a good compromise. I can exchange pleasantries with Tulzcha, say hello to anyone I know, and the clatter of other people's plates and the buzz of their conversation will keep my mind busy.

I come in to the cafe. It's still too early for most people to want dinner, and too late for lunch, so there are just two or three other people. I wave to Mr Wilkes, who always has his 4.30 coffee here. He reads a paperback novel for 45 minutes, chats to Tulzcha for five, and then he goes home. He's done this ever since his wife died. Routine is useful. Ritual is a better word, maybe. That's why I go to Nanshe's church, I suppose. I respect the Lady, but really what I like is the repetition and the community. Ritual places us in the world...

Tulzcha has already come with a coffee, and I stir a sugar into it and then some cream. I'll think about food in a little while.

I think about Laurence as I watch the cream swirl into the coffee. My spoon clinks against the side of the cup. I wonder what he's doing now, and if he's alright. I hope Cain is looking out for him. I hope he hasn't done something dramatic and foolish. It would be in character. But if anything truly bad had happened, I would have heard already, surely? I will just have to hope so. I can't go and see him yet. It wouldn't be fair to him, or to me.

Too much has happened, I think. These last few months. There hasn't been a chance to draw breath and be, well, normal. I nearly died. Laurence was beaten unconscious. Glass was assaulted. That poor baby. Annegwish. Kora. God knows it's a miracle we've all not lost our minds. For some people I think these hard times have rushed their hearts onward. Glass and Iago, for instance. Would they have fallen in love another, quieter time? They might well have. But perhaps they'd have not moved so fast together. When the world falls to pieces, we hold fast to what seems true, and perhaps that encourages short courtship and swift weddings. Then I think of Laurence's proposal, and I have to swallow down a lump in my throat. It would be easier, I think, if everything that's happened could make me just throw aside what's in my past and seize the future. But it is not how I'm made, I don't think. I think I have changed a lot, these last few months. I am glad of it, for the most part. I think my heart is a more complete thing than it used to be. But it does mean I'm no longer sure where I'm going. I got so used to being on my own, to having many acquaintances but few friends, to not loving. And now I care about so many things, and I don't know where all of them are taking me...

I look out of the window. Will I look back on yesterday as a turning point, one day? Or only a mistake? Or something else altogether?

[open to friendly faces!]
[closed]
[identity profile] kateohara.livejournal.com
Nobody lives forever -
The crassest of clichés,
Like time,
Time is the greatest healer;
But it’s a murderer today


Tuesday, around 5pm

I spent most of the day yesterday feeling numb. I walked home after I spoke to Laurence, but I couldn't face my empty apartment, somehow, and so I saddled Lady and we went for a ride in the rain. It was silly, really; I was soaked through when we got back, and I had to give Lady a hot mash to make sure she didn't get cold. Then I went upstairs and sat in the bath, and I cried for a while, and after that I felt clean and empty inside, like I had been washed inside as well as on the outside.

Laurence's clock kept ticking as I sat. Eventually I had to put it in the cupboard. It's too lovely to stay there forever, but yesterday... I didn't want to hear it.

Today, at least, I had work to do. It was a busy enough day, perhaps because it's drier than it was yesterday. People were gossiping about things, but I barely heard what they were saying. I kept wondering - have I done the right thing? If it is the right thing, should it hurt like this? But it's the only way forward I can see.

I've just closed up the store. It's strange; I don't feel like seeking anyone out to talk to, but somehow I don't want to go home and sit alone. Dinner at the cafe seems like a good compromise. I can exchange pleasantries with Tulzcha, say hello to anyone I know, and the clatter of other people's plates and the buzz of their conversation will keep my mind busy.

I come in to the cafe. It's still too early for most people to want dinner, and too late for lunch, so there are just two or three other people. I wave to Mr Wilkes, who always has his 4.30 coffee here. He reads a paperback novel for 45 minutes, chats to Tulzcha for five, and then he goes home. He's done this ever since his wife died. Routine is useful. Ritual is a better word, maybe. That's why I go to Nanshe's church, I suppose. I respect the Lady, but really what I like is the repetition and the community. Ritual places us in the world...

Tulzcha has already come with a coffee, and I stir a sugar into it and then some cream. I'll think about food in a little while.

I think about Laurence as I watch the cream swirl into the coffee. My spoon clinks against the side of the cup. I wonder what he's doing now, and if he's alright. I hope Cain is looking out for him. I hope he hasn't done something dramatic and foolish. It would be in character. But if anything truly bad had happened, I would have heard already, surely? I will just have to hope so. I can't go and see him yet. It wouldn't be fair to him, or to me.

Too much has happened, I think. These last few months. There hasn't been a chance to draw breath and be, well, normal. I nearly died. Laurence was beaten unconscious. Glass was assaulted. That poor baby. Annegwish. Kora. God knows it's a miracle we've all not lost our minds. For some people I think these hard times have rushed their hearts onward. Glass and Iago, for instance. Would they have fallen in love another, quieter time? They might well have. But perhaps they'd have not moved so fast together. When the world falls to pieces, we hold fast to what seems true, and perhaps that encourages short courtship and swift weddings. Then I think of Laurence's proposal, and I have to swallow down a lump in my throat. It would be easier, I think, if everything that's happened could make me just throw aside what's in my past and seize the future. But it is not how I'm made, I don't think. I think I have changed a lot, these last few months. I am glad of it, for the most part. I think my heart is a more complete thing than it used to be. But it does mean I'm no longer sure where I'm going. I got so used to being on my own, to having many acquaintances but few friends, to not loving. And now I care about so many things, and I don't know where all of them are taking me...

I look out of the window. Will I look back on yesterday as a turning point, one day? Or only a mistake? Or something else altogether?

[open to friendly faces!]
[closed]

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