ritual
It's something he never thought he'd find himself doing, but here he was, freshly shaved and showered, with a canvas bag slung over his shoulder, walking through a field somewhere outside the Labs on Ashes B. It felt right. Comfortable. Peaceful.
He found a small clearing where the grass had grown sparse and there were patches of bare dirt. He set the bag on the ground and unpacked it. A bowl, which had been Rosie's mother's, brought from England nearly a century prior, washed before he'd set out on his journey; a very sharp knife, borrowed from his 'brother' Augustus, also having been cleansed; and a small stylus from his lab area, one he used with his PDA. He hadn't been sure if he should wash this up as well, but he had.
With the stylus, he drew a circle in the dirt about two feet wide. Kneeling right outside of the circle, he set the tool aside and took a bottle from the sack. The label read 'Casa Brina Extra Virgin Olive Oil'. He unscrewed the cap and poured the contents into the circle, slowly.
He sighed and replaced the cap, setting the bottle aside. He closed his eyes, listening to his own breathing for a few long moments. He opened his eyes and rolled up his shirtsleeves, picked up the knife. Setting the bowl in front of him, he bared his arm and drew the knife across it, quickly, the blood flowing down and collecting in the bowl.
Quietly, he began to speak.
"O Hermes, you lucky most fortunate god
Bringer of good will and victory in chance to mortals
Son of Zeus, inventor of the lyre,
I sing praises to you, o most worthy god
You are in a shower of coins at a casino
The luck of a draw, the winning hand
The traveling companion with a wink and a smile
Who would not readily sing praises to Hermes, patron god of the fortunate?
The glint of silver is akin to the twinkle in your eye
Who would boast of good fortune must also boast of Hermes
For they are one and the same, o good god!
Hermes, your cunning and skillful ways are beloved to us all.
Lead us to victory in all things big and small, dear Hermes
Share with us your random wisdom
Let us laugh at your jokes
Travel with us on our journeys
And remind us that above all else, life is one big random adventure."
When he was finished, he set the knife aside and poured the blood into the circle. It mingled with the oil, making odd patterns in the dirt. He bound his arm with a length of gauze he had in the bag, and repacked his things and stood.
"Good day to you, friend." He smiled and turned back towards home.
He found a small clearing where the grass had grown sparse and there were patches of bare dirt. He set the bag on the ground and unpacked it. A bowl, which had been Rosie's mother's, brought from England nearly a century prior, washed before he'd set out on his journey; a very sharp knife, borrowed from his 'brother' Augustus, also having been cleansed; and a small stylus from his lab area, one he used with his PDA. He hadn't been sure if he should wash this up as well, but he had.
With the stylus, he drew a circle in the dirt about two feet wide. Kneeling right outside of the circle, he set the tool aside and took a bottle from the sack. The label read 'Casa Brina Extra Virgin Olive Oil'. He unscrewed the cap and poured the contents into the circle, slowly.
He sighed and replaced the cap, setting the bottle aside. He closed his eyes, listening to his own breathing for a few long moments. He opened his eyes and rolled up his shirtsleeves, picked up the knife. Setting the bowl in front of him, he bared his arm and drew the knife across it, quickly, the blood flowing down and collecting in the bowl.
Quietly, he began to speak.
"O Hermes, you lucky most fortunate god
Bringer of good will and victory in chance to mortals
Son of Zeus, inventor of the lyre,
I sing praises to you, o most worthy god
You are in a shower of coins at a casino
The luck of a draw, the winning hand
The traveling companion with a wink and a smile
Who would not readily sing praises to Hermes, patron god of the fortunate?
The glint of silver is akin to the twinkle in your eye
Who would boast of good fortune must also boast of Hermes
For they are one and the same, o good god!
Hermes, your cunning and skillful ways are beloved to us all.
Lead us to victory in all things big and small, dear Hermes
Share with us your random wisdom
Let us laugh at your jokes
Travel with us on our journeys
And remind us that above all else, life is one big random adventure."
When he was finished, he set the knife aside and poured the blood into the circle. It mingled with the oil, making odd patterns in the dirt. He bound his arm with a length of gauze he had in the bag, and repacked his things and stood.
"Good day to you, friend." He smiled and turned back towards home.