Aspasia - Tulsa - Feb 18 - Anthesteria, Second Night
OOC: I so have to get two entries for Aspasia posted before the SCaRE madness begins. Here's then is the short one.
Aspasia arrives perhaps two hours after sunset to this most private of places. She heads directly for the stone which took up residence some months ago, carved by the claws of herself and Exodus.
She takes the flask out of her back hip pocket and pours a measure of liquid on the ground before it, ceremoniously.
Then, the Amazon sits, knees bent, with heels tucked under, her posture that of a supplicant, her body language one of prayer and contemplation. With hands uplifted, palms to the sky, outstretched to either side of her body, Aspasia bows her head. Silent.
Bacchus, I leave this Libation in honor of you. Trample my fears and quash my worries.
Just as the vine winds its way through the Earth. And this blood makes a river over the dirt, let the life flow through my veins, Let the blood of the sacrifice give power to my limbs, strength to my heart. Let it sustain me until vengeance is fulfilled.
Her arms are brought in, and palms press over her eyes for a minute, then down on the wet earth, as she leans forward, stopping only when her forehead is mere inches away from the ground. The smell of blood and wine, life and earth, enveloping her senses.
There is no noise. But, Aspasia can sense that someone else is standing witness in the distance behind her, not wanting to disturb her contemplation and prayers. And as quickly as she comes to the realization, it is dismissed from her thoughts.
I looked through my daughter’s eyes. I could see the killers before her. I could feel the heft of the katana in her hand.
I felt her die.
I see this each night. This and nothing else.
Bacchus, her killers elude me. But I will not yield.
The first figure waiting, watching the Amazon is half-hidden in shadows, is identifiable by his trademark duster and hat. Not far behind Dominion stops as well. She stares at Aspasia with her black eyes, before turning to glance at her broodmate.
As if unaware of the two witnesses, Aspasia pulls Hisa's katana, still sheathed, off her back. She cradles it for a moment against her body, pressing her cheek against the hilt.
Hisa. My daughter. Beloved of Artemis.
I could not save you. I could not die with you. Die for you.
….
Peace, come away. For the song of woe is an earthy song.
Peace, come away. For I do her wrong to tolerate quietly this loss.
I do her wrong.
When Aspasia moves again, it is only to pick it up in both hands, lifting the sword to shoulder height as she extends her arms towards the Omphalos, parallel to the ground.
She becomes still once more.
With your own weapon, I will send your killer to Hades.
I will not give up. I will not give way.
I pledge this now and will pledge this to your shade on the night that follows.
Raven motions to Dominion to move away to speak with him and pads away on... bare feet? It appears so.
Dominion tilts her head and let her eyes fall to her brother’s feet. She makes a ‘hmmh’ sound and follows him into the distance and the night.
And for the length of the hours until sunrise, Aspasia remains in prayer. A statue of skin and bone among the stones. What other company or observers pass by receive no acknowledgment or recognition. No sound passes her lips.
And the second night of Anthesteria is completed. Ritual fulfilled.
Aspasia arrives perhaps two hours after sunset to this most private of places. She heads directly for the stone which took up residence some months ago, carved by the claws of herself and Exodus.
She takes the flask out of her back hip pocket and pours a measure of liquid on the ground before it, ceremoniously.
Then, the Amazon sits, knees bent, with heels tucked under, her posture that of a supplicant, her body language one of prayer and contemplation. With hands uplifted, palms to the sky, outstretched to either side of her body, Aspasia bows her head. Silent.
Bacchus, I leave this Libation in honor of you. Trample my fears and quash my worries.
Just as the vine winds its way through the Earth. And this blood makes a river over the dirt, let the life flow through my veins, Let the blood of the sacrifice give power to my limbs, strength to my heart. Let it sustain me until vengeance is fulfilled.
Her arms are brought in, and palms press over her eyes for a minute, then down on the wet earth, as she leans forward, stopping only when her forehead is mere inches away from the ground. The smell of blood and wine, life and earth, enveloping her senses.
There is no noise. But, Aspasia can sense that someone else is standing witness in the distance behind her, not wanting to disturb her contemplation and prayers. And as quickly as she comes to the realization, it is dismissed from her thoughts.
I looked through my daughter’s eyes. I could see the killers before her. I could feel the heft of the katana in her hand.
I felt her die.
I see this each night. This and nothing else.
Bacchus, her killers elude me. But I will not yield.
The first figure waiting, watching the Amazon is half-hidden in shadows, is identifiable by his trademark duster and hat. Not far behind Dominion stops as well. She stares at Aspasia with her black eyes, before turning to glance at her broodmate.
As if unaware of the two witnesses, Aspasia pulls Hisa's katana, still sheathed, off her back. She cradles it for a moment against her body, pressing her cheek against the hilt.
Hisa. My daughter. Beloved of Artemis.
I could not save you. I could not die with you. Die for you.
….
Peace, come away. For the song of woe is an earthy song.
Peace, come away. For I do her wrong to tolerate quietly this loss.
I do her wrong.
When Aspasia moves again, it is only to pick it up in both hands, lifting the sword to shoulder height as she extends her arms towards the Omphalos, parallel to the ground.
She becomes still once more.
With your own weapon, I will send your killer to Hades.
I will not give up. I will not give way.
I pledge this now and will pledge this to your shade on the night that follows.
Raven motions to Dominion to move away to speak with him and pads away on... bare feet? It appears so.
Dominion tilts her head and let her eyes fall to her brother’s feet. She makes a ‘hmmh’ sound and follows him into the distance and the night.
And for the length of the hours until sunrise, Aspasia remains in prayer. A statue of skin and bone among the stones. What other company or observers pass by receive no acknowledgment or recognition. No sound passes her lips.
And the second night of Anthesteria is completed. Ritual fulfilled.