in triplicate, you saucy minx.

[poecilometes]

Darling, you know that once you've let me out again, I won't go quietly back into that good night. I have so many things to say, places to be, people to do, and let's not mention my nigh unholy love of paperwork.

Comments

[incywincyhero]

Well, as far as paperwork goes, better you than me.

[poecilometes]

No appreciation for the finer things in life, that is the curse of youth.

[incywincyhero]

Well, maybe when I'm old and hoary I'll have to find new ways to entertain myself. For now I'm not exactly feeling the lack of details in triplicate.

[wontturntofoam]

What things do you have to say?

If you have so many, then I would like to hear some of the best of them, if you please.

[poecilometes]

Oh, but Darling -- and I may call you that, mayn't I? -- the problem is how to choose which topic among the multitudinous, voluminous, -- dare I say -- boundless and nearly unending topics of discussion I have at my disposal. Words practically trip off the tongue, fizzing along the way like a bit of bubbly.

The mere thought of it would be enough to force any mere mortal into a quagmire, a quandary of epic proportion. Fortunately, as a god, I am no such creature.

[wontturntofoam]

[Loooooong pause.]

Were any of those the best of the many things you have to say?

[He sounds a little disappointed. Those things were nice, but he hoped for better.]

Would if help if I chose a topic, and then you said the best things about it? And, what kind of God are you?

[poecilometes]

Hardly.

If I opened with my very best the profundity it would reduce you to a semi-sentient gelatinous puddle and you're so much more pleasant all walking and talking.

I, Hermes Maiados Huios, am a god of language, trade, shepherding, luck, ideas, travel, lawyers, and all the best things in life.

[wontturntofoam]

I think you may not hold the most common of opinions regarding whether I could be improved by the removal of my ability to walk and talk, but thank you for saying so anyway.

Could I ask... what is it like, to be a god of so many things?

[poecilometes]

One would think that it's excessively tiring, and yet, I find that it is not so. I am always brimming, bursting with energy and enthusiasm, but that is a part of my nature and providence, so I can't be other than I am.

[wontturntofoam]

How did it come to be that you are as you are though? Were you born the god of all these things, and will you be the god of them forever?

I do like your manners, and how you talk. I suppose these qualities come from what you are?

[poecilometes]

Yes and no. Part of being a god is the ability to be more than one thing at any given time.

It is simultaneously true that I was born in a cave to Maia and that I was consort and Master of Animals. Gods change, merge, get a little fuzzy around the liminal areas. I am both myself and others.

[wontturntofoam]

...Do you like it? Are you even able not to like it, or would that run contrary to your nature?

[poecilometes]

I do like it. My providence is sharp and bright and (nearly) every good thing I could want or need.

I can't imagine doing or being anything else and I can't answer your second, and most excellent, question.

[wontturntofoam]

I am glad that you are happy, but I find this troubling.

If terrible things begin to happen to you, related to your godhood, will you still be happy with it? Would you then be able to curse your existence, even knowing that you could never defy it?

[poecilometes]

Listen well, as I am the voice of thousands of years of painful experience: you are perceptive, but know that being too clever is a dangerous thing.

[wontturntofoam]

It is my experience that that things will be dangerous, whether you are clever or not.

All the same, I hope you are not afforded with many opportunities to wonder whether you could possibly curse your Godhood.

[poecilometes]

For my own sake or for those that depend upon my providence?

[wontturntofoam]

For your own sake, of course. If by your nature you can never be free of this existence, then being forced to contemplate that you are trapped is a most unkind thing.

[peacockqueen]

Oh for--

[she's tugging on her ponytail in frustration.]

Who released you?

[poecilometes]

I come forth by my own volition. No one bade me approach and none shall order me to leave.

...well, they can order, I just won't listen.

[peacockqueen]

Yes. By your tiny wings, that I can see.

[poecilometes]

And yet, they do the job admirably.

[peacockqueen]

Because that is why the mortals pictured you as a chubby little cherub.

[poecilometes]

Pardon me?

[peacockqueen]

[Arches brow, hands on hips.]

According to my mundane's sister, you are a chubby cherub. In a napkin.

[poecilometes]

This creature you speak of is a slack-jawed mouth-breathing half-wit that ought to have been exposed at birth.

[peacockqueen]

You admit your incompetence. How brave.

[poecilometes]

Better to stand like the proud cock I am and crow out my ignorance than preen unawares while others whisper my folly.

[thedominatrix]

I shouldn't worry. You sound terribly difficult to hush up.

[A compliment!]

[poecilometes]

I am exceedingly difficult to keep schtum, but I encourage all manner of methodology when attempting to get a little quiet.

[thedominatrix]

No encouragement needed; I for one am fully prepared to be ruthless if you stop being entertaining and start being irritating.

[poecilometes]

Are you? Do you have a plan to support your implacable need for amusement or will you just trust the moment to provide?

[thedominatrix]

Neither. I'm trusting you to provide.

[poecilometes]

I live only to serve.

[aphoenixsong]

One should never go quietly. I have always held that to be true. Unless, of course, you deserve some sort of punishment. Then again, why on earth would be waiting for someone to gather you when you could just as easily turn yourself into the authorities?

[poecilometes]

Dylan Thomas aside, quietly is acceptable, so long as you've got style, which brings me to the reason one would wait for said authorities: you can't play to an audience without their participation.

[cerebral]

Just when we were all becoming comfortable with the silence. [a lie.]

[poecilometes]

If needs be, I can be as quiet as mouse.

[cerebral]

I've worked with mice; I assure you that is an over exaggerated expression.

[poecilometes]

Perhaps I know just how loud the little dears are?