askmenosecrets | Arcadian Forest Party

Current Mood: anticipitory
Current Music: Bad To The Bone - George Thorogood

Entry tags:

Arcadian Forest Party

This was more work that he usually bothered to put in, Pan thought, especially here, at home, but everything was set.

At first glance, it appeared to be a forest clearing, beautiful and wild but nothing different than a hundred other clearings spread throughout the woods of the Arcadian mountains. But when you looked again, Pan thought, you saw something quite different. Hidden in the trees were a series of structures suspended in air, hung with ivy and dew, and through the mist-shrouded branches you could see the faint glow of light, and you could smell the scent of fire and food. There was the fire pit, a circle suspended in the arms of a large oak with a crackling golden fire, a roast, and bowls of marshmallows, chocolate and crackers waiting. There was the bar, stocked with a rich variety of wines and alcohols and staffed by two of the satyrs. And then there was the forest floor itself, bare now, but waiting for the dancing. On all sides of the floor, there were cushions on the low branches and benches of fallen logs, each accompanied with wooden buckets full of wine and beer bottles and glassed suspended with vine.

"Well," he said to Zaffre, currently wrapped around his neck, "I think we're ready." Pan flicked a leaf off his forest green turtleneck and looked around with approval before pausing. "We're almost ready," he corrected, and pulled his pan flute up to his lips.

The forest filled with music as he played, music that began as the mystical songs of the flute, but transformed as he let the instrument fall to his side - transformed into thrumming, sensual rhythms and intricate guitars that would encourage the party-goers to...well, Pan thought with a sharp grin, to be bad. Very bad.

"Let the games begin," Pan said.

[Notes: Everyone in fortuna_invicta is invited, the more the merrier in Pan's opinion. If anyone needs directions to the right section of the forest, let Pan know on the SWS post. Mingle! Get drunk! Stuff your face! Find a secluded tree and do naughty things! Pan approves highly of all these pursuits. Format = narrative third person, if you please!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She came from the shadows; one moment, all was darkness, the next, it parted to allow its matron mother entrance into the Arcadian forest. Nyx glanced about, a small smile on her lips, having heard the god's call to his relatives. Such an entrancing lad, Pan.

Blackness swirling at her heels, she moved with effortless grace across the forest floor, finally alighting next to the gleaming wooden counter where the satyr bowed low and inquired her pleasure. After coolly asking for a rich red wine, Nyx leaned back and draped one ivory hand along the edge of the bar, waiting for the others -who they might be- to arrive.

Climbing the trees was nothing to him, and a moment later he was inside and nodding to Demetrius, who had a glass of rich whiskey in front of him without a word. "Nyx," he said with a bright grin. "It's nice to see you in my neck of the woods."

He looked amused at that - his neck of the woods was all the woods, of course.

"Pan," she replied with a nod after her first sip of wine. One sharp eyebrow went up in a bit of cynical amusement. "Forgive me, was I not invited? How terribly rude."

But deep indigo eyes twinkled nevertheless; she'd always been fond of the Arcadian, despite his shenanigans. Indeed, his antics were always amusing, no matter their circumstances.

Pan laughed, tipping his head back as he sipped at his whiskey. "Everyone's invited to my parties, Nyx," he said. "You know I've never gone in for exclusivity. It's simply not my way."

He swirled his drink in his glass and raised an eyebrow. "But it has been some time since I've seen you, Queen of the Night."

She sipped her wine slowly, thoughtfully. "Mm, I have had little need to walk any plane, mortal or otherwise. I am absolute; I see and hear all happenings beneath my thick veil."

A slender shoulder shrugged, she pushing back a stray lock of dark hair. "However, the goings-on of late have perked my interest, stirring me to once more don mortal guise and walk among my kingdom." Her lips quirked. "It should prove entertaining, at the least."

"It is almost always entertaining," Pan said with certainty as he finished his drink, tipping his head to one side. "The modern age is rife with opportunities for both of us," he said, and it was the preternaturally calm god of terror and destruction that spoke rather than the impish nature god. "Which have attracted your attention, lady?"

Nyx's scimitar smile flashed. "It is indeed, dear one." In answer to his question, she replied, "Mm, their illusion of control, mostly. It ever amuses me that despite all evidence to the contrary, the little mortal children believe themselves in complete control of their destinies." Her eyes glinted. "Methinks they have been blind to the truth for far too long."

Pan's grin flashed again and his eyes gleamed. "It is amazing, is it not," he said. "They think they bring all their accomplishments and downfalls upon themselves. It's almost cute." He held a hand out and Lysander handed him another drink.

"It makes me wish to show them how the world truly works."

The goddess chuckled softly, a contralto sound which seemed to sigh away on a black breeze. She swirled the remaining third of her glass thoughtfully, gazing without seeing off into the ether.

"No matter their accomplishments, they remain ever children, and thus squalid in their irrationality. Which," she added with a smirk, "works quite well for me, as all deep within fear the dark watches of the night."

(no subject)

panikondeima.livejournal.com - 2010-12-12 01:42 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

madethenight.livejournal.com - 2010-12-12 02:12 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

panikondeima.livejournal.com - 2010-12-12 02:14 (UTC) - Expand

The offer had been made to walk by the lady's side and, for all intents and purposes as far as the black dog is concerned, it had been accepted. In truth, Pan's gathering is not the sort of place Cerberus would chose to go willingly. But there was the likelihood Lady Night would be in attendance, as well as his master and mistress.

When he arrives, it is as a young man clad in a black coat, its collar turned up against his throat to obscure the bottom half of his face. The smell of revelry cloys at his nose but it is not difficult to sniff her out in any case. When he approaches, he bows his head to her lowly. That same show of submission he'd given her once before -- such a small creature in the presence of the Night.

Of course, she sensed the lad when he first arrived, his presence still thick upon her skin. Turning but her head at his approach, she noted the automatic submission; it was pleasing, this show of fealty. Nyx thought back to times long before, when primitive Man had worshiped her in earnest, beating cadences to her glory from dusk till dawn. It had been heady, then.

But now, she extended her hand in acceptance, wiling Cerberus to approach her side. The corners of her lips turned up, deep indigo warming in her gaze.

"I'm glad to see you, child," she intoned quietly, dulcet voice ringing with a husky timbre. "Come, sit with me."

"Lady Night."

He does not hesitate to do as she requests, though he does growl at the satyr that soon approaches from his station behind the bar. Cerberus had no mind to drink or desire to eat anything that was not given or bade by his masters. In that way, again, he was a very good dog; a faithful servant through and through.

That she smiles at him seems to beat back whatever flash of irritation had come with the satyr's presence. Shirking of his coat, he folds it over one arm. Beneath it there is more black clothing. Surprising in no way beyond its tidiness -- arguably unnatural for a dog. He inclines his head towards her glass of wine. "Does the evening's entertainment suit you?"

"It does indeed, pet."

Mindful of his wariness towards the strangers behind them, Nyx reached out and gently touched his pale cheek, silently bidding him calm. Long fingers smoothed through dark hair, a cool comfort in the forest's smoky hush.

The shadows gathered about her akin to loving children, pressing 'gainst her form as if they might become one with ivory flesh. She chuckled softly and waved them off, sending the darkening ripples off to flitter back through the trees.

"I hope to deliver greetings to your lord and lady," she said conversationally, draping an arm through one of his in a companionable manner. "I have no doubt both are overwhelmed with duties, alas."

"There will always be dead," the young man agrees, and simply speaking the word 'dead' seems enough to inspire a low smolder in his black eyes. There is no question the black dog is a creature of darkness, birthed from the feared Father and Mother of Monsters; that his companion for the evening is the matron of shadows seems to suit him as he watches them entreat her silently only to be shooed off again to dark places. He pauses long enough to watch them go and then turns to her again, mist curling from the corners of his gleaming eyes. "My master and mistress have much responsibility. Their numbers increase up above and so does the harvest down below in kind. Their work is thankless, but I know of their efforts and serve them all the more faithfully for it.

"You would do them grate honor to greet them. They have long gone unacknowledged." The thought gets that lip of his to curl again, though her touch would easily soothe it away once more.

"Aye," she agreed calmly, "there will always be dead."

She found it curious as to how the great god Zeus had split up his father's kingdom amongst his brothers. Most perceived the governing of the Underworld a slight, an insult, but Nyx knew it to be anything but; the caretaking of souls was a very, very serious business indeed. Had Zeus known he and Poseidon unfit for such a duty? Granted, such was more chivalry that she was willing to give the thunder-god, but it was a question which considered a bit more merit; later, perhaps.

For the nonce, she was content to sit and watch the party unfold, her casual touch upon the dog's head cool and nonchalant, but soothing nevertheless. She was truly fond of Hades' beast; he was a necessity much as she, and his devotion to his duty and his master was noteworthy. So she continued her gentle petting, allowing tendrils of darkness to hover about them both, almost tangible in the light of Pan's forest.

All of Nyx's attention and silent companionship is not lost on the beast; he seems almost humbled by the touch of her pale fingers, the occasional brush of one her shadows. Very few gave consideration to those of the Underworld -- its keepers, its masters and its denizens. And although Cerberus would bristle with pride in the face of insults and disdain, there is part of him that has come to accept this badge of ignobility as part of being from down below.

He returns her soft affections with attentiveness, sneering away any that would look to bother her without her consent. Occasionally with a hand he touches her arm just there, where it loops into his. After a long stretch of silent observance, he turns to her and asks: "When you slept, did you dream?"

The Black Dog himself does not dream, though he has heard much about them.

All of those which walked the darkness were hers in some way. Although they might indeed serve other masters whims, nothing passed through the shadows without Nyx's awareness. Thus she was comfortable with Hades' beast; he seemed akin to a mortal grandchild, perhaps, a beloved companion with whom to share events like these.

To his question, she smiled softly and shook her head. "No, child. Morpheus would not dare interrupt my slumber." Although she loved her children, none of them would cross their matron. None.

"I did, however, watch as the world passed by, never waking, never sleeping, but suspended within time," she mused almost to herself, thinking back over those long, long years. "Watched many be born and many die, empires rise and fall, watched my kingdom expand into nearly infinity."

Nxy chuckled, a dark sound, shaking her head gently. "But curiosity has brought me into wakefulness once again, it seems."

Nemesis couldn’t resist a trip to the bar, and she smiled when she found her mother there. She stopped at the opposite end of the counter to order a drink, before walking over and taking the seat next to Nyx. “Hello, mother. You're looking well."

Sensing her daughter's approach, Nyx already had a slight smile on her pale countenance. Nodding in greeting, she held out a hand to her child, saying quietly, "Hello, love. Why, thank you. I could say the same, and am glad to see you tonight."

The smile on Nemesis’s face grew at her mother’s comment. “Likewise. Are you enjoying yourself?”

"Mm, tolerably well, for the moment." She'd been amusing herself at watching the antics of Pan and his guests; the deities and their companions were always a source of great entertainment for the Night. Aye, she knew each and every one of them, their secrets, their vices and everything they wished to hide from her bright counterpart.

"No matter the flavor, gods and mortals are so very much alike, are they not? Children, all."

“The difference is that gods have a longer time to perfect the art of refusing to grow up. We seem to have it down to a science.” Despite the fact that she said “we,” including herself in the category, Nemesis liked to think that she wasn’t nearly as bad as the rest of them.

Nyx smiled her agreement. "That is quite true, yes. Although I have noticed a few of them seeming to grasp the concept. ...albeit a bit unwillingly, but it seems that change is possible, even for a staid group as those populating Olympus."

“Well, I suppose, just like with mortals, growing up is inevitable, no matter how much you refuse to do so.” Nemesis smiled, too. “It’s just a very, very gradual process.”

"Perhaps they will discover maturity before the ending of the world," Nyx mused with a soft smile. "Knowing their patron, however, I do doubt it." She chuckled and took another sip of wine, gazing about at the antics just getting underway.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only