Theatrical Muse Application - Topic 235
"Show us where you live."
The gods mentioned in this story are not meant to represent any of the gods that may currently exist in the variety of prompt and roleplaying communities on Livejournal or elsewhere. They are gods inside of Athena's universe only, and their actions and personalities have no relation to, or effect upon, any other characters but Athena.
Inhabit
01. Her fingers move like lightning across the loom. Well, not exactly like lightning. Lightning is something I know well enough that I shouldn't make the simile. Still, she's quick. She's quick and good, and despite her age she's the best weaver in Europe. She must be over ninety now. I visited her once before, when she was young and beautiful. I guess she still is, in a way. I step up behind her and touch her shoulder. She smiles briefly and looks out the window towards the ocean, but her eyes refocus on her work in an instant, and she is nothing but a weaver again.
02. There's nothing but the moment. The wind rushes through my hair, and I know there's a big grin on my face. I look to my left, and the General nods to me, respectfully. His eyes tell the truth. This woman is crazy; I ride with her because she brings me to Victory. My sword connects with a body and the impact is dull and sharp at the same time. This is not what I love. This is what I do because it's the physical expression of what I love. That came before.
03. Before war, there's planning. We bend ourselves over the maps for so long that our bodies forget what it's like to stand up straight. "Will it work?" The question's silly. Sometimes they forget who I am. I take the wine that the slave offers me and I nod. "It'll work."
04. After it rains, I understand why my uncle fought so hard for this city. The sun peeks through the clouds and the haze lifts, and it smells of the ocean. I lean against a pillar and look out to the sea. Behind me, my bed is empty. Iris pulls a rainbow from sea to sky. For the first time in a century, I feel rested.
05. Every time I have ambrosia feels like the first time. I think that's part of its nature. It's always a new experience and always a good experience. It makes my visits to Olympus more enjoyable, even after three thousand years. Aphrodite wants to talk. I walk past Ares, who's glaring as though someone killed his prized slave. Hermes grins and nods towards me. Each passing moment makes me feel worse and worse. Why did I come back? I step into Aphrodite's chamber. She's naked. Oh boy.