[ the fact that his rebirth is so violent is appropriate for who he is, was. continues to be, even. his crystalline cocoon splits down the center, pieces flinging across the cavern - narrowly missing hayame, even, as he continues to punt his way free of the strange prison, muttering under his breath all the same. he's issued his command - drink! - and it isn't arrogance that leads it, but expectation. he was made to be served, after all; that was the exchange, between god and mortal. a strange sort of mutualism, where one worshipped and the other -- the other, did something in exchange.
the strange woman doesn't give him a drink. instead, he gets a face full of blanket. what was it with mortals being so utterly captured by propriety? to be unable to gaze upon the nude form of their god, it was a damn shame; he was, after all, very pretty. a gift to the eye! there was no shame in exposure of this type --
whatever he'd planned to say in retaliation to her maidenly scrambling dies in his throat, when he looks upon her. ]
-- I didn't think Hellás would stoop so low as to kidnap me.
[ testing the waters, he slips the name of his ancient, feisty neighbor in the north; the gods of that land were such lustful carousers. and hayame resembles the creatures he had seen there: beautiful and wild and powerful entities in the image of half-men ( though, never had he seen a half-woman -- ). though, there were marked differences in her coat's colors, and of the fine beauty in her cold face. she'll confirm, she'll deny, or she'll lie.
in the meanwhile, he folds her blanket in half and begins to wrap it around his hips. naturally, he's going to try and make it look like a proper shendyt and STILL BE AS CLOSE TO NAKED AS BEFORE. ]
no subject
the strange woman doesn't give him a drink. instead, he gets a face full of blanket. what was it with mortals being so utterly captured by propriety? to be unable to gaze upon the nude form of their god, it was a damn shame; he was, after all, very pretty. a gift to the eye! there was no shame in exposure of this type --
whatever he'd planned to say in retaliation to her maidenly scrambling dies in his throat, when he looks upon her. ]
-- I didn't think Hellás would stoop so low as to kidnap me.
[ testing the waters, he slips the name of his ancient, feisty neighbor in the north; the gods of that land were such lustful carousers. and hayame resembles the creatures he had seen there: beautiful and wild and powerful entities in the image of half-men ( though, never had he seen a half-woman -- ). though, there were marked differences in her coat's colors, and of the fine beauty in her cold face. she'll confirm, she'll deny, or she'll lie.
in the meanwhile, he folds her blanket in half and begins to wrap it around his hips. naturally, he's going to try and make it look like a proper shendyt and STILL BE AS CLOSE TO NAKED AS BEFORE. ]