Log:Four Roads

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Four Roads
Characters  •   Alecto  •  Manticore  •  Mad Sweeney  •  Urania  •  Coyote  •  Áine  •  Gran Brigitte  •  Hodr  •  Diamond Devil  •
Location  •  Carnival Grounds - Carnie Camp
Date  •  2019-04-12
Summary  •  Having options isn't the same as having good options. Urania delivers the news from Management to the carnival.

No one sees Urania outside her trailer in the daylight. It's almost as rare to see Lily -- the real one, not the muse simply taking on her shape -- charging through before roughly 3 in the afternoon, and usually then, she's still hung over and flagging. Not this time. Never, ever seen is Urania taking the real Lily out for a walk -- but that's what's happening now. She carries a basket looped over her arm in which there is a peculiar feline: an impossibly male calico cat, wearing a bright yellow bow tie. The cat looks... confused, even for an impossible cat in a basket wearing a bow tie. 'Lily' is entirely too serious for Lily to be at the helm, and so it's the muse that speaks through her as she bolts into the common area, setting down the basket and immediately racing for the coffee as she's stammering out, "We all need to talk," to anyone in earshot. "Anyone you can grab, grab them." Milton straggles in behind the pair, in his usual hooded jacket, carrying a sheaf of paper on which he's already been frantically scribbling notes. "Everyone had the... the dream?"


The afternoon's a rough time to hold a meeting, especially when there's visitors already on the property and Cedric's just about ready to round up some of his performers to showcase them to the daytime crowd in the hopes of luring them stay for the Burlesque show in the evening. So when he's told that the fortune teller has something to say, his little messenger boy tugging at his sleeve, all that the bally can do is sigh and be dragged along, ushering a few of the performers to come with, since they probably would need to hear this. Or so he'll assume.


Alecto lopes closer to the fortune teller, eather-clad for her show with her hair bound so the snakes aren't quite so obviously snakes. She holds her coiled whip in one hand and looks, as usual, grumpy.


Sebastianus and Olivia are taking a break from his vendor tent while Dash keeps an eye on it and entertains carnival-goers with his contraptions. Olivia's having a simple lunch of goat cheese, sourdough, fruit, and nuts, while Sebastianus sips from a mug of fragrant tea. He raises his eyebrows at Urania-Lily, turns in his chair so he's properly facing her. The cat in the basket get a small, sly smile, then he's regarding Urania-Lily again. "Yes," he confirms. "The dream of the false star, in the desert."

Sachin serves Urania-as-Lily a mug of fresh coffee without hesitation, glances to Olivia and Sebastianus, eyes wide with alarm.


Diamanto comes into the camp in her great gown and regalia, having just finished her shift as the bearded lady. Georgia and Ethel are with her, holding hands. Who knows where Philomena has gone off to, but she's been spending an awful lot of time around Oh lately. Diamanto walks over to the nearest place to sit down, and she fans herself. That corset has her sitting ramrod straight. The girls go to get her a cup of wine, as is her preference after her day job is done.


Eve is brought along in short order with Urania's bidding because Lawrence was having a meal with his writing book and the second he hears, he pops up to go grab her. She's wrapping herself in robe across the grounds in her bare feet like he pulled her from bed despite it being afternoon. She honestly looks a little cranky, but she sobers up once she realizes what he's on about and when they're back and seated, she slaps the pen from his hand when he prepares to look like he's about to take written notes for some reason. Chastised, he pulls her over onto a leg instead to serve as a seat because she's just standing there incredibly still, waiting for some kind of shoe to drop while looking at the others.


It's unlikely any of those at the carnival have seen the muse in such a state as she is now. Typically, she's dreamy, distracted, scattered. The only scattered aspect of her for the moment is the way her hands shake as she starts tossing coffee into Lily, who probably is suffering from a wicked hangover likely to resume the moment the muse leaves her body. Her eyes are far too clear, now, and her voice steady as she begins to speak. "The dream was a warning," she insists, already desperately needing the fresh coffee Sachin hands her; she manages a grateful smile, but she's already back to the tale she came to tell. "A warning to all of us." There is a pause, and she swallows a breath. "From Management."

"She wanted us all to know. To see it. To feel it, but she spoke to me, directly, in it. She could only tell one of us, or so she said." She pauses, then, half-expecting the disbelief to start pouring in, but not for long. "A very long time ago, my role was that of harbinger, and I fear it may well be again." The smile is grim, and sits ironically on Lily's heavily made-up face. "She spoke of the offer that's been made to us. I... haven't heard what came of the meeting with Ishtar, I'm afraid, so we should compare notes on... this, and on that."

"But what we saw, it is to come." Her chin tips downward, and her lips twist uncomfortably. "That much I know. I wish I didn't. I saw it once before, before I came to the carnival, and thought-" There's a rueful wince, and a shake of her head. "I was arrogant enough to think I prevented it."

"Maybe then, but not forever."

"And that day, it is coming. The day of a false sun erupting over the desert sky, to scorch the earth of everything like us. It is the day Men will become gods in their own right."


Kit has judiciously left Tybalt on the bally for now. He knows the midway well enough and he never shuts up. He's hard to understand with that accent, but he sounds so damn pretty usually no one cares and they jsut follow along. It will, as it were, suffice for now. He leans, shoulder to the side of one of the caravans while Inali scampers trying to bite his shoelace. His toothy grin grows wide, "false star in the desert and a man made god? Why," those gold eyes hone in on the herald like this is somehow terribly entertaining to him, wheels turning behind the facade, "do go on, lovely."


Alecto folds her arms across her chest, baring her teeth for a moment. "The meeting with Ishtar did not go well," she says, her voice a low growl. Now she's looking even grumpier, though she doesn't elaborate - perhaps she expects someone else to do so.


Holden didn't sleep. He's been moping around since the meeting with Ishtar, only lighting up to perform and nothing more. "It was a lie!" Holden cries out from a nearby crate he's been perched on since sunup. Moonshine sits between his legs. "A fucking lie! A trap. Yes! Those were the words. A trap!" Beat. "False sun. Eating the sun...sounds like Ragnarok to me." Except not at all. Poor drunk Hodr.


With his hands tucked deeply within his pockets, Cedric's shoulders lift into a shrug, almost in agreement with Alecto's response to this Ishtar thing. "This changin' into a new you, isn't all it's cracked up t'be. Hollywood definitely weren't lettin' on about how things'd go and it seems... our old friend, Ishtar, may be caught up in somethin' that she can't get out of." There's this piqued interest into this false star, his gaze looking over the other faces who now join them, even as he speaks out to Urania's current guise, "I'm curious of what you'd seen an' what ya did t'stop it before."


Diamanto takes a drink of wine, and her ears perk up at the sound of Holden's voice. Glancing over at the poor drunken god, she realizes that this is her circus and he is her monkey. "Husband, come to me," she says. She holds out a hand in his direction, as if he could see her. At least he can hear her. Georgia and Ethel go over to him to help lead the way. Meanwhile, Diamanto drags a seat over beside her.


"It is coming," Urania repeats with a slow and certain nod to Kit. "And it is the time when Man will have no more need of us, or at least not as we are. She said she aims to fight it for as long as she can, but that-" The swallow of a deep breath immediately follows. "She was quite emphatic on this particular point." At first, it may seem like a tangent. "Fighting this future, it is an option. It is not an option likely to meet with-" No, that's too gentle a way of putting it, and her jaw snaps shut. "She said the outcome was almost certainly failure. Not entirely doomed, but that death was by far the most likely result, and not a glorious end they'll sing songs about, but merely an end, of the truest kind, ground down and away and utterly forgotten." This bit? Surely aimed at the Norse in the crowd, perhaps more than any others. "She has chosen to fight, knowing this. And she insisted it be made clear the near certainty of failure for anyone who chooses the same."

"Another option, of course, is to take the radio's offer." This doesn't seem likely in the muse's case, as she still refers to it as 'the radio' rather than speaking of it as an entity proper. "Management insisted it was not what it seems, and even more distasteful than what we may now think we know." There's a pained look in Holden's direction, and she nods quietly, looking all the more morose for it.

Cedric's question gives her some pause, and she nods to him once, clear-eyed and thoughtful. "It's a different story, but one worth telling, after a piece. The couple that came in from another part of the state to see us, they may be able to explain a trifle more about it. The man, Antonin. He had a very different future before our paths crossed, one likely to bring such a thing into being." There's assuredly more to that, but it will keep, and she tries to focus on the rest of the message she was sent to convey. "There were... two other options. One of them most unexpected."


Olivia pales, stops eating, and swallows. Sebastianus pushes his tea to her, and she takes a gulp to calm her nerves. Sachin comes around from the cooking area to sit next to her, rubs her arm, and she leans into him. She, of the three of them, was the most terrified of Sebastianus' description of the dream.

Sebastianus nods at Cedric. "In short, we shouldn't accept their offer, it's a trap. She confirmed that." He folds his arms, crosses his legs, turns one slippered foot in an agitated fashion. It's easy to imagine him lashing his tail as a cat. "We are we to do, then? If we don't accept their offer, and man will become the new gods, what's left to us?"


Kit looks to Cedric and arches an eyebrow with a most unbelpful smirk, "Someone didn't read the pro-vided fine print and wondered why the deal got screwed Well rest my wicked soul pain me shocked." Looking back to Olivia he offers gently, "Of course it's a trap. Anyone tryin to change us are the ones withthe problem. Centuries did we gather praise, but we are not the ones that changed nor," He pops another peanut in his mouthshaking his head, "Or needed to." Looking to Alex and Cedric he asks, soberly, his casul posture not changing since fact has vindicated the prior offense he and Sky railed against. "Can we figure out a way to help her? Ishtar was one of us."


The tip of Alecto's whip twitches, like an angry cat's tail. She looses the coil and lets it slip down onto the ground to trail there a few inches, eyes narrowed.


Holden doesn't move until Dia's ladies get to him. He is not steady on his feet at all. He does make it to Dia's side and leans against her. "Nothing was wrong with the deal on its face! Times change! Mortals change! And they are changing fast and it made /perfect/ sense that their true Gods would not be us!" Yes. He is loud, yelling and eventually flailing a bit. "The radio. Even I found myself listening every damn night. I love the shows back east. I'm not the only one. But are any real amount of people still killing goats for the Greeks? No! Goats give milk and egg--no. Uh...cheese! And get the grass and it's easier to ride to church on Sunday." Beat. "Get the fuck out of here. Pretending as if you didn't think the offer made sense." He's utterly disgusted now and just leans against his new wife again, moaning softly.


Sitting on Lawrence, Eve is very still while the man sits pensive and listening to levels of keen attention, and at some point, he steals a near accusatory glance over at the faery queen like he suddenly understands the scope of something she's no doubt been hiding from him and the other two men where she can. Her own expression, though, through all of this is almost painstakingly neutral in favor of her own consideration and she seems a bit confused for a beat when Urania mentions a couple and this Antonin.

After a moment, she stares at Holden yelling instead of the muse passing what's been seen and the others around trying to clue her into what happened with Ishtar. Then her stillness breaks as if she needs to disconnect herself from Lawrence's general touch and presence in close for some reason. She wanders over to pour herself a large cup of milk from camp supplies around, quiet as hell.


Olivia cradles the mug of tea, flicks a glance at Kit. "Colorado knew that from the moment he heard it. He'd know a trap from a mile away."

Sebastianus, meanwhile, arches an eyebrow. "Are you so certain they provided her with fine print? Doesn't seem their style, after their evasiveness in answering my questions." He shakes his head. "I wouldn't be surprised if they flat out lied to her. They clearly did to us, after all." He gives Holden a sympathetic look. Even if he'd been skeptical and wanted more information, he hadn't hung any hopes on it. It had seemed too good to be true, and lo, it was.

He considers Urania, foot still wiggling in annoyance. "So these are our options? Die fighting the inevitable, accept a deal we know will render us prisoners, or die when the false sun is created and the Age of Wonders ends?" He snorts. "Sounds like we should all see about putting our affairs in order."


Diamanto nods to her girls in silent thanks. She knocks back her wine gracelessly and hands the cup off so she can put both arms around her husband. "There's no shame in thinking it made sense," she says gently. "But it's neither here nor there now. We know it's a trap." She strokes Holden's hair like one might try to soothe an anxious animal.

"We should have been culling them all the while," she says, "so that they wouldn't gain this kind of power. It's not too late. We could find the source of their power and destroy it, kill everyone involved so they can't raise it again."


Alecto nods decisively, her gaze flicking to Diamanto. "Yes. Someone benefits most from doing this to the old Gods. If we find that being, perhaps they can be dealt with. Perhaps Ishtar could be freed again."


"Haven't we, though?" Urania asks Kit, brows lofting. "Most of us surely have. As Man re-envisions us, we are fundamentally altered. Syncretization is a long-standing practice for many of us. Lorraine, me, at the very least. I used to preach it to any of us I came across, years past. I was here already when the poets took me up, and it altered... " She shifts uncomfortably, tugging at her skirt and swigging down more coffee. "...more than I care to think on."

"But. That is one of the other choices: to change. But not per their edicts or direction, no, but on our own terms, because-" Pointing to Holden, she nods decisively. "-that is the fundamental truth that sells their ever-so-compelling lie. At our core, we are ideas no less than the 'new' gods, and they don't want us to see that for ourselves. That the places they seek to claim for themselves and make us slaves to? We can seize for ourselves. That's the thing they're afraid of. It's what makes this a war at all: we know how. We have done it, we've done precisely that for centuries to survive, adapting incrementally with each passing generation over centuries, over millennia. It's second nature, and done on our own terms, outside their control? Each one of us that chooses that path, we put an end to one of them if we succeed."

"It's why the radio spoke of it being bloody. Of the war being inevitable. They want to starve us out to have the chance to supplant us, and to control our evolution under their thumbs, to remain under their control for so long as we can eke out a morsel or two of adoration. It seems, more so with what you've said of Ishtar, it's choosing slavery."

Her nostrils flare. "I may ultimately be futile, forgotten, or fail, but I am not now, nor will I ever be a slave," the muse insists through clenched teeth, but her expression eases, and she sinks back to a slump against the table behind her.


"Ishtar said not to try," says Brigitte, currently riding her left-hand girl, Nightshade. "She took a big risk to warn us. I'm not wasting the chance she gave us by going back. She said she can't be saved."


A frown tugs on Cedric's lips when Holden goes on, even mentioning the radio, "I d'be hopin' that you'd destroyed the thing by now, like I'd told others t'do. We're in no need of any o' that. And I still got a feelin' that he, it can hear us through those filthy things." The rest of the Norseman's words gain no comment as he's eager to hear more about.. ah, there it is.

Listening in quiet, the Leprechaun lifts his chin to scratch idly at the side of his neck. "They've found a way to evolve and reach out t'the masses. Gaining such a wide audience. We've got to find a way to... evolve and grow stronger and now I'm wonderin' what that entails." Even as he says this, his mind ponders on a few ideas. "Because if Management believes that we'd lose this bloody war if we fought... Wait, why is she even fightin' at all?"


"I want to try even if it doesn't save Ishtar," Alecto says, tipping her chin up. "Sometimes what's done cannot be undone, but that doesn't mean the perpetrator should go unpunished. Should remain free to hurt and harm again."


Kit grins wryly to Olivia holding his hands up in one of those don't I know it? gestures. "Course he did, Olivia. The horse ain't stupid." Looking back to Uraniawhom he seems inclined not to direct smug nor smark at, "Well, maybe for some." The last of her words draw a silence from the old trickster. Sobering to serious he murmurs, "well my path is El Passo whic is apparently spanish for The Passo." The back of his finger nudges the side of Urania's shoulder in the smallest gesture of suppor, "No. We won't be slaves. Cheer up, they ain't caught us yet." Looking up to Brigitte the look of his is a wince. Is he accepting this answer? Sadly. Is he going to try to conjure up some other answer? Likely. That path speaks volumes of failure. "Then it'd be fool of us to waste her effort and make that suffering for nothin. We don't go back then."


Olivia sits up, looking hopeful. She turns that look on Sebastianus', whose foot stills. "And many of us are ideas already," he says. "Oh, myself, Colorado..." He rubs his chin. "Perhaps that path wouldn't be as impossible to wrest for ourselves as it might seem at first. But," his eyes narrow, and he looks out over the camp, "we must determine what niche we may inhabit." He licks his lips, glances at Alecto. "You know her story, yes? What's happened to her is not so unlike that. She descended into the underworld, some say because of her pride, and was judged for it and slain there, imprisoned by her sister. How she was freed suggests a solution, but not one any of us might care for: that one of us should take her place." He dips his head at Kit. "Unless someone is willing to do so--if it's even possible to make such an exchange--there's possibly no point in trying, save to die in a glorious fashion, true to one's nature. Which, I'll allow, has it's appeal."


Holden begins speaking, muffled by his buried face in Dia's shoulder. Soon, he looks up and speaks clearly. "You all don't understand. It's a cycle. There have been Ragnaroks before. There will be after. The world is a wheel. Does that mean its pointless? No. No. But...it'll begin again." He pauses and shakes his head. "Eh, I had a point. Gone now." He takes a swig of the moonshine. "Cedric, you would deny a blind man the only entertainment he has? I can't read. I can't take in the sights." He waits for an answer but he laughs a little too quickly, before it got awkward. "I don't have a radio, man. Got rid of it back in Colorado at Baldr's bidding. And I'll say this as well. I am not going after Ishtar. She gave us a chance and I won't mess that up."


There is a slow nod from Urania when Alecto speaks of retribution for what's been done to Ishtar. "Working to find our own places in the word to claim for ourselves -- without them -- will strike them, and hard." Her eyes lower, and she says carefully, "I believe the way Management put it was that for each of us that does so, it 'strangles one of them in their crib'." Some of her better humor returns along with a smile for Kit, even if it is a bit toothy on Lily. "I have options to consider there, and a rocketeer to help, no less, but it's a way to strike a blow where it will hurt them, and weaken them considerably."

She seems inclined to say something else, but stops herself, redirecting quickly. "There was one final option. An unexpected one, to say the least." Here, she pauses, and one by one, she looks at those assembled with a look more sober than anyone has probably ever seen on Lily. "She said we could choose to become human. That, as we are, when we die, when we are gone, we are simply forgotten. We are nothing."

"But as a human, we will, yes, grow sick. Grow old. Eventually die, maybe much sooner than we would even if we chose to fight." Her voice is reverently quiet. "But we would have a soul, like they do. We would have an afterlife, in eternity, whatever shape that takes."


Diamanto holds Holden in her arms and cradles his head on her shoulder. There there, Northman, there there. "We will avenge Ishtar when we tear them and their institutions to the ground," she says. "If we rush in now, the only one who dies is Ishtar. The idea that imprisons her is everywhere." She considers. "Or we could go to California and burn Hollywood to the ground, kill them all, and dance on their charred corpses." It's always about dancing on charred corpses with her.

She tilts her head as she listens to Urania. "Human?" Her brow knits. "That's disturbing. And the afterlife, Hades, that's grim. To be a shade floating around forever."


Alecto frowns immediately. Get sick? Grow old? She shakes her head, not seeming to like that idea at all. And so she turns her attention back to the idea of fighting, which is, to be honest, Alecto's usual solution to problems. "Is Radio from Hollywood?"


Olivia and Sachin swallow, staring nervously as the ground, when Diamnato says that. They're intensely careful to not look at her, at all. Sebastianus grimaces; once upon a time, he'd have been in full agreement, but the millennia in which that was a viable option is long lost to them.

"Ah, this would explain it, then. The reason it's us or them, if you will, and why Radio came to us. He wanted to see if anyone else could be lured peacefully, so they could reserve their strength for the real fight." He smirks. "Well. Now I'm determined to find myself a place to take from them. I'll strangle any many of these whelps as I can. Perhaps there's a place for me among libraries, or universities, they have so many."

The possibility of becoming human just has him making a face. "I think for me that would be...inappropriate." Sachin winces, Olivia snorts.


Holden mutters up to Diamanto. "Or a mead hall. Or a field. Or fluffy clouds at the hand of the Father. The afterlife is different for each of us, divine." He sits up a little. "Humanity. We just decide it? Think it and make it so? Can I make some changes to my mortal form?" He chuckles a little. "I do not fear death and I embrace mortals for all of their weaknesses. I am curious about that option."


Eve drinks all of her milk and refills the cup while Lawrence eyes her with mild alarm on his features with his own continued listening. But he doesn't dare approach her, he leaves her distance because as she's so keen to tell them, some of her moments aren't to share with men. Drawing in a long breath, she carries the cup over to where Cedric is to pass it off to him, then loops her arms about his midsection to stand with her cheek right there at his shirt while viewing the general varied reactions and questions and concerns of others. She seems to be taking that in as much as the theory and information that's being put out for them, and though she's often a little exciteable or flighty, now is not one of those times.

In fact, even taking that bout to give drink and attention to the leprechaun and leaning on him for her own comfort of taking in his solidity, there's a vaguely inherent set of her jaw and general uplifted position of chin that screams goddess or royalty. And maybe that's indicative of saying what she -won't- do in the face of all this. Human.


The Leprechaun isn't here to entertain a blind man, but there's probably ways in which Fae magic could do just that. More likely back when the Fair Folk had their powers in full. "Has your brother began readin' t'you then, to chase your boredom away." His eyes then flicker over to Diamanto curiously, tacking on, "I've a feelin', yoursefl won't be needin' that anymore if it were true."

Some of the options that Urania offers continues to intrigue Cedric. First, this idea of evolving... and then, turning human. There's something almost disturbing about the latter. "We've all experienced or seen what comes after death. Not all of it is pleasant." Though he's sure he doesn't need to remind anyone of that! Then Eve saunters over to hand him a cup of lovely stuff and he beams pleasantly at her, "Generous as always, My Queen. That smile then fades, even after he takes a sip, when he says, "Right now, some of the things they're inventin' and creatin' is a mere copy for some o' us can do. The films bein' show is just a glamour o' sorts. Magic in a sense. Ideas they be stealin'."


Kit eyes them trying to make plans for the end. Sharp gold eyes narrowing and falling, perhaps, the most quiet anyone's ever really gotten out of the chatty Coyote. Finally he asks, "Humanity? Abandon our people and just let them take their victory? Well I'm certain they'd love to scare us into thinking we are out of options." Eyes twinge and with a sharp whistle he calls Inali up to his shoulder, "C'mon. We... are goin for a walk, because some of us have better things to do than decide how we gonna quit." He snags his tin cup back up looking at Urania curiously, "Was having them kiss our ass on the list? Because if it ain't they did so finely leave an option off that list." The look hardens, not for her but a hardening of quiet emotion. Turning the Coyote skulks off back aorund the outside edge of the trailers.


"I can see... circumstances in which I'd consider it," Urania says quietly of the last option, a sad smile at Lily's lips. "But none of them apply, at least, not just now. I suspect I gave up my chance for it, really." Her arms wind in over her chest, coiled around the tin coffee mug held just beneath her chin.

"Regardless. There was another thing that She insisted upon, in fact, it was the only thing She insisted upon."

"Our choices, whatever they are? They are our own. She will not interfere, and we should endeavor to accept the choices others make, in peace amongst ourselves."

She wears a pensive sadness as she speaks on this, as her eyes lower to the surface of the coffee in her cup. Pity she never learned to read coffee grounds. "It was... very important to Her, that it be so." All the while, Milton is scribbling down every word the muse speaks as if in a religious frenzy of sorts, pausing only to look up toward Kit with an empathetic wince. Seems he notices the pointed lack of that option, too.

"It's why She gathered us, here. Found as many of us as She could."


Nightshade frowns thoughtfully, gaze fixed on her fidgeting fingers. "I kind of feel guilty," says Brigitte. "I'm not from a dead or forgotten religion. I have worshippers out there, right now, in small but steady numbers. I'm very young compared to many of you. It would be easy to return to my husband and resume that life, but I won't. I'm with you, here, until this is done."

She quirks a 'brow at Kit. "Some don't have people anymore. Some are only hanging on by a thread. If they want to be mortal, why deny them that?"


Diamanto rests her head against Holden's and says, "I will go where you go, husband. I would rather fight, and if I were mortal, I would still fight." She lifts her head and kisses him on the cheek, giving him a nuzzle. "Or if you became mortal, I could remain your Queen and protect you as one of my own. I would still love you even if you got old and withered."

She raises her voice and says, "We shouldn't interfere in another's choice. Our lives are our own, and our circumstances are each different from the other. Ultimately it's our end, and we should get to choose it."


Sebastianus mmms at Holden. "I would assume it will require energy, just as transmuting ourselves will. Ishtar...Hollywood, revealed that much to us. So we must gather our resources, determine how this is done." He watches Kit go, sighs softly. "He hates being given ultimatums," he asides to Gran, bobs his eyebrows.

His expression grows more serious then. "Are you sure of that? Unlike most of us, you've a chance to go on as you are. Tend to your following, guide them through what's to come. For surely, if mankind if making a false sun, things will soon become ugly. No one in the history of the world has discovered a great power and not proceded to act unwisely with it. The power of a sun, that will enable them to wreak untold havoc. Your believers will need you, more than ever." He makes himself stop, finishes with, "No one here would question your decision to return to them, and be by their side."


Kit pauses his his tracks at Brigette's wordsturnign to her answering quietly, "They got us. We ain't forgotten em." Hands in the air, cup sloahing slightly as the result of an ill thought out gesticulation, "I am nary about to give on up on them neither. Especially when dyin don't make a lick of sense." But would it ever to the great evader? Looking to the Manticore he flinches. Sebastianus is en-tirely true. With no more argument he goes to lick his wounds and sate his ire elsewhere, or possibly smack a radio with a hammer. All may be entirely possible.


Holden spits after Kit. "You of all people should know how low Baldr and I have been. A shame you have forgotten how the only believer we could find was on my back." But Dia, oh Diamanto. She puts him at ease. He sighs and returns the nuzzle. "You would go where I would?" He sounds surprised and touched. He figured Dionysus had a say in that. "Oh, divine, We will fight. Baldr will want to fight, I am sure. We will fight."


"It's always for love, in the stories," Urania says quietly, a half-hearted smile at her lips as she glances toward Nightshade-Brigitte. The smile gains strength as she listens to Diamanto, and nods more serenely, of a sudden, than she's been the whole time since she bolted out into the center of the camp circle. "Precisely so. She insisted on it."

"It was very important to Her that it be so."

Only now, finally, does she sink to a seat in one of the chairs, tumbling heavily backward, though she leans forward to claim the cat from the basket to drag into her lap. The cat that is clearly a disoriented Loki-cat, grumping as he's unceremoniously dropped into the mass of her skirts like a teddy bear with claws and his own opinions thank-you-very-much-miss-grabby-hands.

"I aim to look at my options to adapt on my own. Maybe stomp flat the baby-god of rockets. Or telescopes. Or... or alien crash landings, if I have to." Huffy works better on Lily than it does on the real Urania, at least. "Or see if I can go about making astrology en vogue, perhaps." She looks at the cat. "Maybe all of them."


The tip of Alecto's whip twitches again; she shakes her head and announces, "I need to think. But first, I need to do my show." A curt nod. "Thank you for sharing Management's words," she tells Urania before stalking off.


Oh, no doubt Dionysus would have an opinion on what becomes of his maenad, but Diamanto is in love, and thinking things through has never been her strong suit. She smiles warmly at Holden when he says they'll fight, and he's rewarded with a kiss. It's a brazen public display of affection. The idea of shame or discretion is foreign to her. When it's time to make out with the husband, it's time to make out. Georgia and Ethel each glance away to offer the couple a modicum of privacy.


"When have things not been ugly ugly for my people?" asks Brigitte. "They were brought here as chattel. Beaten, raped, ground to dust in the fields. When they were finally freed, they were lynched, given no rights or equality, still less-than. All they've ever known is ugly. They dreamed of my husband and I and the rest of our kin when they couldn't remember their own traditions after centuries of being forcefed Christianity. Voudun is nothing but a mix of Catholicism and the shreds they still knew of what they used to believe, wrapped up in anything else they felt like throwing in. I'm a bastardization of your Brigid." Here she gestures to Cedric and Eve. "Irish women in servitude told the slave women of her, and I was born."

She shakes her head. "No. The Baron is tending the flock. I left following the diaspora that occured in the wake of slavery's end, to see our people all over this land. I still see them."


Sebastianus sighs at Nightshade-Brigitte, the sigh of someone who knew what the answer would be but felt it necessary try. "Then I'm honored you choose to stand among us, and aid us, even when you could take another road."

He frowns at Holden's spitting after Kit, refrains from speaking. Instead, he smiles at Gran, stands from his chair. "I've much to think over, much to look into. And, of course, we've performances to do." He dips his head to Lily-Urania. "Thank you for relaying all of this to us." Olivia, who's finished off her lunch in this time, goes with him, while Sachin heads back into the cook tent to help with dinner preparations.


Eve looks at Brigitte, and though her and Cedric were brought along with the indentured slaves with the white faces that didn't have it easy, it was nothing compared to the chattel nature of the slaves with darker skin. They'd been between the plantation rows in revelry, then, feeding and powering to a high note while all the desperate Irish left offerings to try and luck themselves out of the situation they'd been put in. The brunette's head comes up and she nods some with knowing, stealing a glance up at the leprechaun with a rather careful and reserved expression on her features that he can read just as much as her being perfectly expressive.

Then, after a time, her arms unfold from around him and she looks at Lawrence staring at her with grief and she downright winces, like she can feel it coming off of him. And -that- part, she can't manage, because she will -not- be grieved and she points a finger back toward the tents while staring at him. He makes quick exit with a clear of his throat to the ticket and accounting tent.


Holden is too drunk to care about public affection. A starved god like himself craves devotion and isn't picky about it. But something gives him pause and he pulls away from Dia. "Wait, wait...we can change? Something she said..." Urania, that's the direction he's gesturing in. "Mortals can change us by way of...shifting belief? I don't..." He sighs. "Baldr and I don't remember things about Asgard and I throw the published works out because they make no sense to what I do recall. I...I am really confused now." And he leans on Dia's shoulder again, frowning.


Diamanto strokes Holden's hair back from his face and tells him, "Of course we change. All living things do. I don't think about it too much, my love. The past is gone, the future is uncertain. It's best that we live in the now." She seeks out his gaze. "Who are you today? Right now? You're my husband, and a god, and a showman, and you're very drunk." She reaches for the moonshine so she too can have a swig. "We'll go to your trailer soon, and I'll give you something else to think about."


The muse's eyes shift amongst the others, and she falls into her more typical silence for a time, rumpling the cat's ears before sipping at her coffee. This is what you get for being a cat at a time like this, Loki: turned into a security blanket. "More than a dozen versions of my story had been written before I was brought here, and more followed after that people brought with them. It's... it could be anything. I may or may not have a son. The one that may or may not have been his father may have killed him. I may or may not be the Holy Spirit in so far as Christian poets are concerned," she says quietly, shaking her head. "The sailors brought me with them, from the very first. Some with slaves brought by your people, so early on. It was lonely, then," she murmurs, "but I can say with surety, I am not who I was when I first was born at sea and landed on these shores."

Her shoulders rise and fall in a helpless shrug. "The sailors gave me some of themselves, too, along the way." Superstitions, for the most part. Her black cats, her rush to always greet him when he's a carrot-top. "They carried me on to some of those ships," she says, glancing to Brigitte. "It is impossible to forget what I saw there."


A solemn nod is given to Brigitte, he knew of the tale of her creation, more than likely told to him by her! Cedric shares this look with Eve, sensing the Faery Queen's emotional state by that twinkle in her eyes. "It's true, the move here was difficult for many, but worse for some. That said, it looks like we gather together an' try and t'sort things out with learnin' how to... change with the times." This coming from Cedric was a difficult realization on his part. He hated change! "If one proves more difficult than the others, we switch options, I suppose til we find one that fits. Even if it means fightin' off against the Avatars with might and magic." He then murmurs, "If I'm bein' honest, the Church has been makin' things right difficult for us. But if there's a way to make use of it all, we'll try an' find it."


Holden listens to the other and nods. He's got a lot to consider and he's too drunk to make all the sense of it. "Baldr had a wife and a son in one writing. Owen told me. Asked me if he should tell Baldr. I told him no. I told him the prose is bullshit and to listen to my tale and now...I don't know what is or isn't true. Little is written. Hodr the blind god is mentioned once in one. And only to say 'we don't speak of Baldr the Beautiful's murderer'. Goodness." He chuckles dryly and says to Dia. "Can we go?" He whimpers.


Diamanto rises to her feet, and she hands off the moonshine to Holden so that he can carry it as she hauls him up. "They sometimes say maenads were mortal women. Clearly, they're idiots. They never even wrote down any of our names. Come on, let's go, my love." She is patient as the tides when it comes to leading her drunk husband away. When she signed up, she signed up for all of it.


Lily, the meandering vessel, is still assuredly hung over, somewhere, deep down. Urania has some pity, somewhere, perhaps equally deep down, for her oft-wayward dancer. "I'm going to duck back to the trailer to inform the others at North Star." She didn't even stop to tell her own people any of this first. "Milton... copy over what you have there, a few times? Give copies to those that need them." The hooded scribe with the skull tattooed over his face nods once, remaining characteristically silent, as the muse departs the dancer, leaving her to immediately slump back to unconsciousness in the chair.

Which means she stops petting the cat abruptly. Well, hmph to that! The calico vaults from her lap with a flick of tail, and saunters off down the midway, doubtless in search of trouble.


"The Church has always..." Eve starts and tilts her head a little with consideration after Cedric's words, finally breaking her silence. Then she stops again, as if she doesn't quite know what to do with the information she's about to verbally work through. Honestly, everyone knows the two Celts only really did as well as they did for so long because of the way the Irish are funny about balancing Catholicism and old superstitions that don't die. But since the latest waves of immigrants are aging out generationally, much like the old African and island slaves are generationally turning to preaching and Baptisms all through the south...

Then finally, she stands and says, "She needs our hands. Whatever needs done, she'll have mine, methinks. But this needs t'settle somewhere in me b'fore I can go making heads or tails." She's probably talking about Management, and none of the prior dubiousness that came up before when she mentioned the name outside of the Boss himself is there. Then after bringing Cedric down for a kiss against his face and bristles, she murmurs, "Have a good show." And it's thick. Because it probably means she wants to talk to him before really deciding what to do about anything.