Holly and Mistletoe
Dec. 30th, 2021 02:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alittlehinkyThe three highland calves that Cricket and Loki own are all named for tender spring flowers, and he's mindful of that as the weather turns from chilly to bitter. Daisy Belle, Dahlia, and Daffodil are very furry and very cold-hardy, though, so they do quite well on milder days, and the snow isn't deep yet. He's brought them outdoors here and there to brush out their coats, and the activity made him think of someone in particular. It was a brief but memorable encounter, with Thymos and his retinue.
No one really gives gifts to the sad and scary gods, Cricket imagines. Not often, not unless they need them specifically.
He lays out the deerhide he was gifted, which he has now tanned and preserved, spreading it over a bale of hay at the end of the animal pen. And he sets out a few small things: a jar of cranberry moonshine, a bunch of holly tied with red ribbon and some carefully selected gifts. For Kuyutha, he bought a pony's chew toy, something sturdy he can bite and fling around. For Athena, a braided sea-grass ball that's probably more for parrots than raptors, but it looks like something she could get her talons in. Last but not least, he's carved a wooden figure of a highland cow and carefully attached scraps of combed-out fur to make it look properly hairy. That one is for Thymos, himself.
"Um...Thymos, I...Dunno if you can hear me," he says, leaning against the fence near the offering, "but these are gifts for you on account of the season. Don't know where to find you, so I was just hoping you'd know if I left 'em for you here. You don't have to come for 'em, even, if you don't want 'em, but I thought it'd be right to offer 'em."
No one really gives gifts to the sad and scary gods, Cricket imagines. Not often, not unless they need them specifically.
He lays out the deerhide he was gifted, which he has now tanned and preserved, spreading it over a bale of hay at the end of the animal pen. And he sets out a few small things: a jar of cranberry moonshine, a bunch of holly tied with red ribbon and some carefully selected gifts. For Kuyutha, he bought a pony's chew toy, something sturdy he can bite and fling around. For Athena, a braided sea-grass ball that's probably more for parrots than raptors, but it looks like something she could get her talons in. Last but not least, he's carved a wooden figure of a highland cow and carefully attached scraps of combed-out fur to make it look properly hairy. That one is for Thymos, himself.
"Um...Thymos, I...Dunno if you can hear me," he says, leaning against the fence near the offering, "but these are gifts for you on account of the season. Don't know where to find you, so I was just hoping you'd know if I left 'em for you here. You don't have to come for 'em, even, if you don't want 'em, but I thought it'd be right to offer 'em."
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Date: 2022-03-18 07:11 pm (UTC)Well. Technically he was murdered, back home, and that's how he got to the Nexus in the first place, but that's a little different.
He looks thoughtful, and murmurs, "Y'know, a lot of folks will talk about accepting death being important, and fear, but you don't hear that much about sorrow. I guess pain of any kind is just...real hard."
For a second he looks afraid again, worried he's offended the angel, but as he goes on, he calms, listening. Cricket is nothing if not a good listener, and a quiet observer. "Sounds kinda brave when you put it that way," he tells him. "And kinda like you're livin' partly just to spite Him, too. Hope that ain't the wrong thing to say. I want to understand, a little bit."
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Date: 2022-04-21 08:26 pm (UTC)"Without the darkness we cannot know the light." Moloch repeated the commonly spoken adage. "Pain and sorrow are the darkness to comfort and happiness."
He's well aware of how those things partner in a cycle, necessary even if he has never really felt happiness.
"Many of the fallen live to spite God." Moloch let out a quiet, cold laugh that caused his teeth to click. "There's an abundance of pride in surviving when the universe itself wants you to die."