maskormenace | video

[ For a brief moment after the camera flickers on, Circe appears uncertain, and then her expression at once resolves into a calm, unstirred facade, cool as a plane of water. She has unglamorous auburn hair set back in a tousled braid, eyes of an odd, subtly gold sheen, and a plain, even voice. ]

Well. I do not know whether it is for the better that most of the plants and animals and the like are familiar to me here. It would surely be a better preoccupation than what I was assigned, to acquaint myself with the local wildlife, so perhaps I will do it nonetheless. It has been made clear to me that there is an almost impossibly large amount of land to be seen.

Given I am unfamiliar with travel and with this country, I thought I would seek suggestions. In particular... [ a short pause ] I find I miss the sea. I had heard of deserts, but they are not so lovely a place to live as they are to hear tales of. And the same can be said of cities of men.

[ That is it. She says nothing about the confusion, the mingled hope and fear, that all this freedom and newness has set about in her. She is quite possibly the only divine being here. It is impossible to tell. Is that her father, keeping eye on her in the sky? If it is, she doubts he is about to say hello. In some respects she is as alone as she ever was.

In others... There are more people, more mortals, and more land than she has ever given thought to in her long life. It is thrilling and terrifying at the same time, and Circe dares to betray as little of it as she can manage. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ She's not from anywhere remotely tech advanced, but she is an immortal goddess and is used to others having powers far past her own. Circe does not expect to understand everything, and never has. This makes adjusting a much simpler matter. She is strongly disoriented and a bit afraid still, but it is all the newness, not the impossibility of it, that bothers her. ]

So you say, but it does sound as if there is no place for our souls to go upon death. Certainly I would not expect to be admitted to the underworld myself. Death is not a lawless, ungoverned free-for-all, and we are something far beyond the norm for this realm, are we not? It is no wonder we would be rejected from a natural end, though it is a hideous fate.

[ In Circe's life, there may be a rational explanation for things that mortals use to appease their sense of scale with, but there is almost always a grander, broader scale behind it. Perhaps practically speaking, there is something technological that causes this. But the why-- that is the realm of bigger ideas. ]

Apart from this philosophy, you have my thanks for your generous offer. I will meet you at the Porter facility promptly.

[ He looked clearly confused, his lips parting, closing, and parting again - before he decided that maybe he'd better just ask about it when they were on their way. Because she might not have put it in a way that made complete sense to him, but it did touch on something he'd been wondering - and worried - about.

But it could wait. ]

Ah - yeah. Philosophy probably goes better with flying, anyway. I'll be there. [ And the feed disconnected.

In fifteen minutes, right on schedule, Poe was at the Porter building, waiting for his - guest? acquaintance? new friend? - to come through. He was standing casually, a brown leather jacket over a cream shirt, black and orange carpet rolled up under one arm while he waited. ]

[ To a Greek goddess, half of life is this sort of absentminded pondering of philosophical questions, and the other half is getting on with it and weeding your garden. She thinks nothing of dropping or picking up the subject, and makes her way to the Porter facility from her assigned house.

She has only one set of clothing with her so far, having seen nothing like what she is used to in the shops and unsure she can pay for it besides, so any self-consciousness is pointless, she tells herself. Circe in person shows what was not evident on video: she wears a handmade brown chiton covered with an emerald green shawl, a plain bag tied to her waist cord, and she moves smoothly and elegantly with a grace that is just not quite human. Although all nymphs are known to be extraordinarily beautiful, Circe has always been considered plain for a nymph, and she has very few vanities. There is dirt smudged under her fingernails and muscle on her that comes from hard work. Even her voice sounds mortal, as Hermes had told her.

Times like this she is extremely thankful all over again that she passes for mortal so well. Someone like her sister shines like the sun, appropriately so, and can scarcely open her mouth without you knowing her divinity. Circe would loathe that attention where her sister rejoices in it. ]

Poe, [ she says in greeting as he approaches. ] Is that the correct form of address? I am unused to being given two names as if they were one.

[ Divine or not, she's still gorgeous. Which he notes, but he doesn't make a big deal about it. There's no need to.

He smiles at her approach, wide and warm, and hold out a hand. ]

Yeah, Poe's good. You can call me Dameron, if you want, that's what they do on base. Or Poe Dameron if you're mad at me.

It's nice to meet you, Circe.

They don't have surnames where you're from?

[ What sort of etiquette that's supposed to denote, Circe has no clue. She's never been good at manners and interpersonal things. A fact that she rarely has reason to confront before coming here, she reflects. ]

They do not. You may say who you are son or daughter of, if they are important, but that is all. I am from... hm, some thousands of years before this realm's timeframe. I'm uncertain how much. [ She doesn't seem bothered by this, weirdly. Being immortal gives you a different scale for time. ]

Many things have changed while I was not looking, it seems.

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800 YEARS LATER.... feel free to ignore if you want lmfao

HAHA omg i forgot this thread existed