mycursedface (
mycursedface) wrote2008-04-02 12:34 pm
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it is affirmed by some that Medousa was beheaded because of Athene
Medusa is sitting in a tree, jeans and sundress and hair in braids and no glasses, today. If anyone comes out here, she'll just...close her eyes or something of the like. She's in that kind of mood, contrary and a little out of sorts and have to be outside can't stay need to-
Only, she couldn't think of anything to do, so climbing the tree and watching the lake in the semi-twilight seemed the better alternative to pacing.
Or paying attention to the dull throb of a hangover.
Only, she couldn't think of anything to do, so climbing the tree and watching the lake in the semi-twilight seemed the better alternative to pacing.
Or paying attention to the dull throb of a hangover.
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Medusa claws are against her throat, wet from Athena's blood but not pressing. The Gorgon herself has her head tilted, eyes dark with hate and bright from battle-joy.
"No?"
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"No, no I don't," she whispers, arms at an odd angle on the ground, not completely seeing.
In one swift movement, she unpins herself and gets up, stance unsteady. Her face is twisted into a grimace.
"I hated it," she says, words oddly detached. "I still hate it. I hate myself for it. Everyone says I'm so fucking smart for following the rules, but they're wrong --"
She quickly wipes her face with her arm, managing only to smear blood over her face.
The fact that the majority of her regrets having just said that makes her sick to her stomach, and she doubles over, coughing out blood. Straightening up, she's cursing softly in Greek.
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She says nothing, just watches with those damaged eyes in her bloody face.
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Her breathing is ragged, and despite her wounds she still stands straight, so determined to keep her proud demeanor.
And, oh, it hurts. That stare, that stare.
It hurts.
Everywhere, it hurts. Inside, outside, everywhere.
It hurts.
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"Once," she says softly in that musical voice of hers, "once I swore in front of Sky and Sea and Earth that you...that you would know what you did that day.
Do you?"
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"If you want the truth?
"I always did."
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She feels foolish saying it. It isn't as if those two words are going to make anything better, but --
It's a start.
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She nods. Once, then twice, a small gesture and not a verbal one, but it's...
A start.
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Her entire body is trembling, from physical fatigue, and from the sudden sensation of having part of a great weight lifted from her shoulders.
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Just...
Empty.
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I'm sorry
I'm sorry
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