The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
As soon as Hesiodos fell upon the bed, Neena took the opportunity to snatch up the cushion and smack him once more. But this time, it was softer, gentler, as if she knew that her rebuttal of him hurt but she wasn't about to lay witness to that fact in her words. She wasn't about to embarrass or shame him by making it clear verbally that she was rejecting his advances. Nor was she going to be angry at his attempts to make an advance. She simply adjusted the smack to show sincere affection and allowed her own ethos to speak for itself.
"Because I don't have sex with people I like." She told him with determination and a joking timbre to her deep voice. Unlike Hesiodos who thought of sex as a natural extension of friendship and love, Neena saw it as a bodily function - a desire to be sated. Like eating or drinking or sleeping. But unlike the others, sex could come with emotional ties. A feeling of possessiveness that a woman who hated commitment didn't want in her life.
Perhaps that was the difference between them, and perhaps it was simply a difference of gender; that Hesiodos was able to walk away from sex with ease, regardless of the affections he did or didn't hold for the partner he was intimate with; whilst Neena, as a woman, was hopeless to her natural urges of wanting to hold onto those she gave her body to.
It was why she only agreed to sexual intimacy with strangers - with those she felt connected to, solely on a physical level. Because it was easier to walk away. There was no personal connection to build upon, no affections to suddenly become all the more intimate through the sharing of bodies.
She had done that once before and lulled herself into the believe that love was enough to slay her wanderlust. That she could stay connected and committed to another individual for the rest of her life. And all it had ended up doing was breaking her heart.
Pushing such vulnerabilities away, Neena finished sorting her attire, wiggled her feet in her thong sandals and reached up to tie her hair back with the leather strand she kept fastened around her wrist when not in use. Her money pouch was still fastened around her thigh beneath her tunic and she was otherwise all ready to go.
"Come on, sex-pest." She told the man, her elbows out as she fastened her hair in a knot on the back of her head. "Let's go find breakfast..."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
As soon as Hesiodos fell upon the bed, Neena took the opportunity to snatch up the cushion and smack him once more. But this time, it was softer, gentler, as if she knew that her rebuttal of him hurt but she wasn't about to lay witness to that fact in her words. She wasn't about to embarrass or shame him by making it clear verbally that she was rejecting his advances. Nor was she going to be angry at his attempts to make an advance. She simply adjusted the smack to show sincere affection and allowed her own ethos to speak for itself.
"Because I don't have sex with people I like." She told him with determination and a joking timbre to her deep voice. Unlike Hesiodos who thought of sex as a natural extension of friendship and love, Neena saw it as a bodily function - a desire to be sated. Like eating or drinking or sleeping. But unlike the others, sex could come with emotional ties. A feeling of possessiveness that a woman who hated commitment didn't want in her life.
Perhaps that was the difference between them, and perhaps it was simply a difference of gender; that Hesiodos was able to walk away from sex with ease, regardless of the affections he did or didn't hold for the partner he was intimate with; whilst Neena, as a woman, was hopeless to her natural urges of wanting to hold onto those she gave her body to.
It was why she only agreed to sexual intimacy with strangers - with those she felt connected to, solely on a physical level. Because it was easier to walk away. There was no personal connection to build upon, no affections to suddenly become all the more intimate through the sharing of bodies.
She had done that once before and lulled herself into the believe that love was enough to slay her wanderlust. That she could stay connected and committed to another individual for the rest of her life. And all it had ended up doing was breaking her heart.
Pushing such vulnerabilities away, Neena finished sorting her attire, wiggled her feet in her thong sandals and reached up to tie her hair back with the leather strand she kept fastened around her wrist when not in use. Her money pouch was still fastened around her thigh beneath her tunic and she was otherwise all ready to go.
"Come on, sex-pest." She told the man, her elbows out as she fastened her hair in a knot on the back of her head. "Let's go find breakfast..."
As soon as Hesiodos fell upon the bed, Neena took the opportunity to snatch up the cushion and smack him once more. But this time, it was softer, gentler, as if she knew that her rebuttal of him hurt but she wasn't about to lay witness to that fact in her words. She wasn't about to embarrass or shame him by making it clear verbally that she was rejecting his advances. Nor was she going to be angry at his attempts to make an advance. She simply adjusted the smack to show sincere affection and allowed her own ethos to speak for itself.
"Because I don't have sex with people I like." She told him with determination and a joking timbre to her deep voice. Unlike Hesiodos who thought of sex as a natural extension of friendship and love, Neena saw it as a bodily function - a desire to be sated. Like eating or drinking or sleeping. But unlike the others, sex could come with emotional ties. A feeling of possessiveness that a woman who hated commitment didn't want in her life.
Perhaps that was the difference between them, and perhaps it was simply a difference of gender; that Hesiodos was able to walk away from sex with ease, regardless of the affections he did or didn't hold for the partner he was intimate with; whilst Neena, as a woman, was hopeless to her natural urges of wanting to hold onto those she gave her body to.
It was why she only agreed to sexual intimacy with strangers - with those she felt connected to, solely on a physical level. Because it was easier to walk away. There was no personal connection to build upon, no affections to suddenly become all the more intimate through the sharing of bodies.
She had done that once before and lulled herself into the believe that love was enough to slay her wanderlust. That she could stay connected and committed to another individual for the rest of her life. And all it had ended up doing was breaking her heart.
Pushing such vulnerabilities away, Neena finished sorting her attire, wiggled her feet in her thong sandals and reached up to tie her hair back with the leather strand she kept fastened around her wrist when not in use. Her money pouch was still fastened around her thigh beneath her tunic and she was otherwise all ready to go.
"Come on, sex-pest." She told the man, her elbows out as she fastened her hair in a knot on the back of her head. "Let's go find breakfast..."
Hesiodos covered himself against the gentle hits from the cushion as if he was being hit. While it didn’t hurt at all – other than his old wounds suddenly being bothersome – Neena’s words were a bit hurtful for him. Yes, for him sex was a natural extension of friendship and love, because he loved intimacy, connection and having fun (for him it was no different than getting drunk whose company you greatly enjoyed), and he was attracted to everyone. He loved Neena and for him, sharing bed was nothing but natural… not to mention that for him, it felt right.
Still, there was the fact that he didn’t like to pressure anybody for sex. He didn’t enjoy lovemaking unless all parties were as into it as he was, and if his best friend didn’t want to get that closer to him in that regard, he wasn’t going to push the issue. Still, there was something else that bothered him and made him sad… and it was the feeling of home.
But when she talked about breakfast, the thought was momentarily erased, “Music for my ears, darling”, he said eagerly as he put on his sandals, fastened Castor and Pollux on his belt, and grabbed his lyre, “Come on, I know a good place… it’s one me”, he winked and went out of the door with his best friend on tow.
They walked while making small talk and telling jokes and laughing, as if nothing had happened earlier, though it was clear that, from time to time, something bothered him, but he never made mention of it. He led them into another tavern, which was mostly dedicated to food, and ordered both of them bread, bacon and ale. He found out that bread and bacon was the best cure for a night of heavy drinking, and the ale was because they needed to be hydrated. The food came rather quickly, as there were few people, and they began eating gleefully.
“Oh, by the gods… this hits the spot”, he said after swallowing with a joy normally reserved for a drink after a long day of working. But out of the blue, Hesiodos asked, “Did I ever tell you about my family?”
Of course he did. It was the kind of thing he never mentioned, only when he was too drunk to care, and even then, only when he was in company of people he trusted. How his parents caused him grief from most of his life, how his father gave him his first physical scars, how his mother gave them him his first mental scars, and how his siblings weren’t any better. He had only told about that to an amount of people he could count with the fingers of one hand.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Hesiodos covered himself against the gentle hits from the cushion as if he was being hit. While it didn’t hurt at all – other than his old wounds suddenly being bothersome – Neena’s words were a bit hurtful for him. Yes, for him sex was a natural extension of friendship and love, because he loved intimacy, connection and having fun (for him it was no different than getting drunk whose company you greatly enjoyed), and he was attracted to everyone. He loved Neena and for him, sharing bed was nothing but natural… not to mention that for him, it felt right.
Still, there was the fact that he didn’t like to pressure anybody for sex. He didn’t enjoy lovemaking unless all parties were as into it as he was, and if his best friend didn’t want to get that closer to him in that regard, he wasn’t going to push the issue. Still, there was something else that bothered him and made him sad… and it was the feeling of home.
But when she talked about breakfast, the thought was momentarily erased, “Music for my ears, darling”, he said eagerly as he put on his sandals, fastened Castor and Pollux on his belt, and grabbed his lyre, “Come on, I know a good place… it’s one me”, he winked and went out of the door with his best friend on tow.
They walked while making small talk and telling jokes and laughing, as if nothing had happened earlier, though it was clear that, from time to time, something bothered him, but he never made mention of it. He led them into another tavern, which was mostly dedicated to food, and ordered both of them bread, bacon and ale. He found out that bread and bacon was the best cure for a night of heavy drinking, and the ale was because they needed to be hydrated. The food came rather quickly, as there were few people, and they began eating gleefully.
“Oh, by the gods… this hits the spot”, he said after swallowing with a joy normally reserved for a drink after a long day of working. But out of the blue, Hesiodos asked, “Did I ever tell you about my family?”
Of course he did. It was the kind of thing he never mentioned, only when he was too drunk to care, and even then, only when he was in company of people he trusted. How his parents caused him grief from most of his life, how his father gave him his first physical scars, how his mother gave them him his first mental scars, and how his siblings weren’t any better. He had only told about that to an amount of people he could count with the fingers of one hand.
Hesiodos covered himself against the gentle hits from the cushion as if he was being hit. While it didn’t hurt at all – other than his old wounds suddenly being bothersome – Neena’s words were a bit hurtful for him. Yes, for him sex was a natural extension of friendship and love, because he loved intimacy, connection and having fun (for him it was no different than getting drunk whose company you greatly enjoyed), and he was attracted to everyone. He loved Neena and for him, sharing bed was nothing but natural… not to mention that for him, it felt right.
Still, there was the fact that he didn’t like to pressure anybody for sex. He didn’t enjoy lovemaking unless all parties were as into it as he was, and if his best friend didn’t want to get that closer to him in that regard, he wasn’t going to push the issue. Still, there was something else that bothered him and made him sad… and it was the feeling of home.
But when she talked about breakfast, the thought was momentarily erased, “Music for my ears, darling”, he said eagerly as he put on his sandals, fastened Castor and Pollux on his belt, and grabbed his lyre, “Come on, I know a good place… it’s one me”, he winked and went out of the door with his best friend on tow.
They walked while making small talk and telling jokes and laughing, as if nothing had happened earlier, though it was clear that, from time to time, something bothered him, but he never made mention of it. He led them into another tavern, which was mostly dedicated to food, and ordered both of them bread, bacon and ale. He found out that bread and bacon was the best cure for a night of heavy drinking, and the ale was because they needed to be hydrated. The food came rather quickly, as there were few people, and they began eating gleefully.
“Oh, by the gods… this hits the spot”, he said after swallowing with a joy normally reserved for a drink after a long day of working. But out of the blue, Hesiodos asked, “Did I ever tell you about my family?”
Of course he did. It was the kind of thing he never mentioned, only when he was too drunk to care, and even then, only when he was in company of people he trusted. How his parents caused him grief from most of his life, how his father gave him his first physical scars, how his mother gave them him his first mental scars, and how his siblings weren’t any better. He had only told about that to an amount of people he could count with the fingers of one hand.
Neena could tell that something was bothering Hesiodos as they journeyed from the house that he was staying in to the nearest tavern that might serve them some food at this hour. She knew that such a thing was nagging at the back of his mind in the way that he kept glancing away, or seemed to lose the focus in his gaze as he would stare into the distance, or go quiet in the middle of their small talk and chatter.
Yet, she did not push.
Neena knew that Hesi wouldn't be upset about the brakes she had applied to their physical relationship. He was a big boy and had no end of women willing to go to bed with him. She couldn't have caused any particular jilt to his ego simply by refusing to add herself to the bottom of a very, very long list. Nor would she have stopped him from seeking another partner to warm his bed impossibly soon.
If Hesiodos was bothered by something, it had to do with something else. But that something else was clearly not something he wished to discuss on an empty stomach and - Neena afeared - not something that she wanted to discuss at all. Whilst she was a close and good friend to those she cared for, touchy-feely comfort was really not a talent of hers.
Then again, neither was it one of Hesi's, so perhaps such a conversation wouldn't be so torturous after all.
Following Hesiodos' lead in not going near the subject of issue for the short journey between a bed and food, Neena walked with the normal and natural spring in her step and grinned as the two of them found a tavern the two of them hadn't yet drank out of house and home and found themselves a table somewhere in the back of a fairly empty common room.
When food was brought to them, Neena put her foot up on the bench so that she was seated sideways, and leant her back against the wall. She selected a hunk of bread from the plate they had been brought and started to eat, picking little pieces of its crust and eating them one at a time like a bird.
She was quiet, as Hesi settled and enjoyed the first taste of bacon and ale and then blinked when he asked if he had ever told her about his family.
Given that he rarely ever mentioned notions of home or familial ties, Neena suspected such a random and abstract question was tied to the source of his discontent. Which meant she answered very carefully...
"A little." She admitted. "But not much besides the fact that they aren't a part of your life and you're happy with it that way." Actually, he had termed it in far more expressive language than that, but she didn't want to put words in his mouth. If he wanted to talk about this with her, she wasn't about to jump the gun and do it for him. This was his catharsis that was needed...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Neena could tell that something was bothering Hesiodos as they journeyed from the house that he was staying in to the nearest tavern that might serve them some food at this hour. She knew that such a thing was nagging at the back of his mind in the way that he kept glancing away, or seemed to lose the focus in his gaze as he would stare into the distance, or go quiet in the middle of their small talk and chatter.
Yet, she did not push.
Neena knew that Hesi wouldn't be upset about the brakes she had applied to their physical relationship. He was a big boy and had no end of women willing to go to bed with him. She couldn't have caused any particular jilt to his ego simply by refusing to add herself to the bottom of a very, very long list. Nor would she have stopped him from seeking another partner to warm his bed impossibly soon.
If Hesiodos was bothered by something, it had to do with something else. But that something else was clearly not something he wished to discuss on an empty stomach and - Neena afeared - not something that she wanted to discuss at all. Whilst she was a close and good friend to those she cared for, touchy-feely comfort was really not a talent of hers.
Then again, neither was it one of Hesi's, so perhaps such a conversation wouldn't be so torturous after all.
Following Hesiodos' lead in not going near the subject of issue for the short journey between a bed and food, Neena walked with the normal and natural spring in her step and grinned as the two of them found a tavern the two of them hadn't yet drank out of house and home and found themselves a table somewhere in the back of a fairly empty common room.
When food was brought to them, Neena put her foot up on the bench so that she was seated sideways, and leant her back against the wall. She selected a hunk of bread from the plate they had been brought and started to eat, picking little pieces of its crust and eating them one at a time like a bird.
She was quiet, as Hesi settled and enjoyed the first taste of bacon and ale and then blinked when he asked if he had ever told her about his family.
Given that he rarely ever mentioned notions of home or familial ties, Neena suspected such a random and abstract question was tied to the source of his discontent. Which meant she answered very carefully...
"A little." She admitted. "But not much besides the fact that they aren't a part of your life and you're happy with it that way." Actually, he had termed it in far more expressive language than that, but she didn't want to put words in his mouth. If he wanted to talk about this with her, she wasn't about to jump the gun and do it for him. This was his catharsis that was needed...
Neena could tell that something was bothering Hesiodos as they journeyed from the house that he was staying in to the nearest tavern that might serve them some food at this hour. She knew that such a thing was nagging at the back of his mind in the way that he kept glancing away, or seemed to lose the focus in his gaze as he would stare into the distance, or go quiet in the middle of their small talk and chatter.
Yet, she did not push.
Neena knew that Hesi wouldn't be upset about the brakes she had applied to their physical relationship. He was a big boy and had no end of women willing to go to bed with him. She couldn't have caused any particular jilt to his ego simply by refusing to add herself to the bottom of a very, very long list. Nor would she have stopped him from seeking another partner to warm his bed impossibly soon.
If Hesiodos was bothered by something, it had to do with something else. But that something else was clearly not something he wished to discuss on an empty stomach and - Neena afeared - not something that she wanted to discuss at all. Whilst she was a close and good friend to those she cared for, touchy-feely comfort was really not a talent of hers.
Then again, neither was it one of Hesi's, so perhaps such a conversation wouldn't be so torturous after all.
Following Hesiodos' lead in not going near the subject of issue for the short journey between a bed and food, Neena walked with the normal and natural spring in her step and grinned as the two of them found a tavern the two of them hadn't yet drank out of house and home and found themselves a table somewhere in the back of a fairly empty common room.
When food was brought to them, Neena put her foot up on the bench so that she was seated sideways, and leant her back against the wall. She selected a hunk of bread from the plate they had been brought and started to eat, picking little pieces of its crust and eating them one at a time like a bird.
She was quiet, as Hesi settled and enjoyed the first taste of bacon and ale and then blinked when he asked if he had ever told her about his family.
Given that he rarely ever mentioned notions of home or familial ties, Neena suspected such a random and abstract question was tied to the source of his discontent. Which meant she answered very carefully...
"A little." She admitted. "But not much besides the fact that they aren't a part of your life and you're happy with it that way." Actually, he had termed it in far more expressive language than that, but she didn't want to put words in his mouth. If he wanted to talk about this with her, she wasn't about to jump the gun and do it for him. This was his catharsis that was needed...
Hesiodos also sat with his back to the wall, alongside Neena at enough distance to spontaneously hug her, kiss her cheek or nag at her with his elbow if he so desired, but with his feet firmly put on the ground. He also liked to lean sideways, in the style of the Romans, but only when there were cushions involved, and alas, the tavern only had wooden chairs, so he decided to just to sit.
When eating, Hesiodos cut the bread in half with a knife and added the bacon in the middle – it was something a friend showed him years ago, which he called a ‘Sand Witch’, for some reason. The name was odd, but it was a good way to eat a lot of food together with your hands. He bit down to it and chewed with delight, even closing his eyes, and then had a good drink of the ale to wash it down… he was the kind of person for which food was one of life’s greatest pleasures.
That moment, Hesiodos loved Neena a bit more. With a sensitive question, she threaded carefully, as she knew how to do it, making her best to not to upset him or not to thread on dangerous ground… she was good at those things; since they knew each other for so long, she knew how to read him like an open book. So he gave another bite of his Sand Witch and swallowed, then finally said, “You’re right… they were assholes…”, he said with a sad chuckle. He would need something stronger than breakfast ale to say anything further.
Suddenly, one of his wounds began to bother him – a small yet noticeable scar under his head, bellow his jaw. It was his first scar, he recalled… one day he screwed up (he didn’t even remember how, exactly), but apparently it was enough for his father to decide that the best course of action was to break a bottle against his jaw. It was a miracle of the gods that his jaw didn’t break, though he wasn’t able to eat properly for a couple of weeks. He also told Neena about that at some point or another… to be honest, is there anything he didn’t tell her?
He subtly massaged that scar and continued speaking.
“I left my home for a reason”, he, looking out the entrance, as if searching with his eyes a place that wasn’t there anymore, but if he looked hard enough, he might find it, “Many reasons, actually… to see the world. To make a name for myself. To get inspired. To have fun. Many, many reasons… one of them was because of my family…”, once again, he took a bite of his food, chewed slowly and methodically and then drank a bit more. His mind was focusing on ordering another round of drinks, though theirs were still half full… he was suddenly craving more, though, “Since then… no place truly felt like home…”
Hesiodos noticed that waterdrops fell upon the dry, if a bit dirty, table. He wasn’t ashamed of crying – Greek heroes in the stories he liked to tell cried all the times, like Odysseus. It was a symbol of strength, integrity and honor, and most of all, that you actually gave a crap about what was happening. He wasn’t afraid of crying, mostly because he knew that he could defeat anybody that mocked him for it. And he also knew that Neena wasn’t of the motherly type and would be uncomfortable, even when he explained her before how different things were back in Greece… he decided to allow himself that faux pass, “The road is nice, don’t get me wrong. I like walking, or riding, sleeping in a different place with a different person every night… I got used to it. It feels right. But it isn’t home… my legs get tired sometimes. And so does my soul...”
With one hand, methodically, he whipped his eyes. He was not wailing, though; he was just allowing himself a moment to feel, and he was comfortable enough around Neena to do it, “But when I’m with you? I’m home. When I’m laying and stargazing with you, telling you stories about the constellations; when we tell stories and sing songs and dance together; when we exchange tales of our lands and our journeys; when… we slept embraced… that was home. And I long for it…”, he finally said.
He stopped looking at the place he knew he would never find – at least not yet – and looked at his best friend; the person that there was. His hand softly took her head and he leaned forward to kiss her forehead, before saying, “I love you”, and letting her go… then he burst into giggles, “Shit! Sorry, I got some bacon fat on your forehead… stupid me!”, he said, giggling like a drunk idiot while his eyes had tears trying to dry.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Hesiodos also sat with his back to the wall, alongside Neena at enough distance to spontaneously hug her, kiss her cheek or nag at her with his elbow if he so desired, but with his feet firmly put on the ground. He also liked to lean sideways, in the style of the Romans, but only when there were cushions involved, and alas, the tavern only had wooden chairs, so he decided to just to sit.
When eating, Hesiodos cut the bread in half with a knife and added the bacon in the middle – it was something a friend showed him years ago, which he called a ‘Sand Witch’, for some reason. The name was odd, but it was a good way to eat a lot of food together with your hands. He bit down to it and chewed with delight, even closing his eyes, and then had a good drink of the ale to wash it down… he was the kind of person for which food was one of life’s greatest pleasures.
That moment, Hesiodos loved Neena a bit more. With a sensitive question, she threaded carefully, as she knew how to do it, making her best to not to upset him or not to thread on dangerous ground… she was good at those things; since they knew each other for so long, she knew how to read him like an open book. So he gave another bite of his Sand Witch and swallowed, then finally said, “You’re right… they were assholes…”, he said with a sad chuckle. He would need something stronger than breakfast ale to say anything further.
Suddenly, one of his wounds began to bother him – a small yet noticeable scar under his head, bellow his jaw. It was his first scar, he recalled… one day he screwed up (he didn’t even remember how, exactly), but apparently it was enough for his father to decide that the best course of action was to break a bottle against his jaw. It was a miracle of the gods that his jaw didn’t break, though he wasn’t able to eat properly for a couple of weeks. He also told Neena about that at some point or another… to be honest, is there anything he didn’t tell her?
He subtly massaged that scar and continued speaking.
“I left my home for a reason”, he, looking out the entrance, as if searching with his eyes a place that wasn’t there anymore, but if he looked hard enough, he might find it, “Many reasons, actually… to see the world. To make a name for myself. To get inspired. To have fun. Many, many reasons… one of them was because of my family…”, once again, he took a bite of his food, chewed slowly and methodically and then drank a bit more. His mind was focusing on ordering another round of drinks, though theirs were still half full… he was suddenly craving more, though, “Since then… no place truly felt like home…”
Hesiodos noticed that waterdrops fell upon the dry, if a bit dirty, table. He wasn’t ashamed of crying – Greek heroes in the stories he liked to tell cried all the times, like Odysseus. It was a symbol of strength, integrity and honor, and most of all, that you actually gave a crap about what was happening. He wasn’t afraid of crying, mostly because he knew that he could defeat anybody that mocked him for it. And he also knew that Neena wasn’t of the motherly type and would be uncomfortable, even when he explained her before how different things were back in Greece… he decided to allow himself that faux pass, “The road is nice, don’t get me wrong. I like walking, or riding, sleeping in a different place with a different person every night… I got used to it. It feels right. But it isn’t home… my legs get tired sometimes. And so does my soul...”
With one hand, methodically, he whipped his eyes. He was not wailing, though; he was just allowing himself a moment to feel, and he was comfortable enough around Neena to do it, “But when I’m with you? I’m home. When I’m laying and stargazing with you, telling you stories about the constellations; when we tell stories and sing songs and dance together; when we exchange tales of our lands and our journeys; when… we slept embraced… that was home. And I long for it…”, he finally said.
He stopped looking at the place he knew he would never find – at least not yet – and looked at his best friend; the person that there was. His hand softly took her head and he leaned forward to kiss her forehead, before saying, “I love you”, and letting her go… then he burst into giggles, “Shit! Sorry, I got some bacon fat on your forehead… stupid me!”, he said, giggling like a drunk idiot while his eyes had tears trying to dry.
Hesiodos also sat with his back to the wall, alongside Neena at enough distance to spontaneously hug her, kiss her cheek or nag at her with his elbow if he so desired, but with his feet firmly put on the ground. He also liked to lean sideways, in the style of the Romans, but only when there were cushions involved, and alas, the tavern only had wooden chairs, so he decided to just to sit.
When eating, Hesiodos cut the bread in half with a knife and added the bacon in the middle – it was something a friend showed him years ago, which he called a ‘Sand Witch’, for some reason. The name was odd, but it was a good way to eat a lot of food together with your hands. He bit down to it and chewed with delight, even closing his eyes, and then had a good drink of the ale to wash it down… he was the kind of person for which food was one of life’s greatest pleasures.
That moment, Hesiodos loved Neena a bit more. With a sensitive question, she threaded carefully, as she knew how to do it, making her best to not to upset him or not to thread on dangerous ground… she was good at those things; since they knew each other for so long, she knew how to read him like an open book. So he gave another bite of his Sand Witch and swallowed, then finally said, “You’re right… they were assholes…”, he said with a sad chuckle. He would need something stronger than breakfast ale to say anything further.
Suddenly, one of his wounds began to bother him – a small yet noticeable scar under his head, bellow his jaw. It was his first scar, he recalled… one day he screwed up (he didn’t even remember how, exactly), but apparently it was enough for his father to decide that the best course of action was to break a bottle against his jaw. It was a miracle of the gods that his jaw didn’t break, though he wasn’t able to eat properly for a couple of weeks. He also told Neena about that at some point or another… to be honest, is there anything he didn’t tell her?
He subtly massaged that scar and continued speaking.
“I left my home for a reason”, he, looking out the entrance, as if searching with his eyes a place that wasn’t there anymore, but if he looked hard enough, he might find it, “Many reasons, actually… to see the world. To make a name for myself. To get inspired. To have fun. Many, many reasons… one of them was because of my family…”, once again, he took a bite of his food, chewed slowly and methodically and then drank a bit more. His mind was focusing on ordering another round of drinks, though theirs were still half full… he was suddenly craving more, though, “Since then… no place truly felt like home…”
Hesiodos noticed that waterdrops fell upon the dry, if a bit dirty, table. He wasn’t ashamed of crying – Greek heroes in the stories he liked to tell cried all the times, like Odysseus. It was a symbol of strength, integrity and honor, and most of all, that you actually gave a crap about what was happening. He wasn’t afraid of crying, mostly because he knew that he could defeat anybody that mocked him for it. And he also knew that Neena wasn’t of the motherly type and would be uncomfortable, even when he explained her before how different things were back in Greece… he decided to allow himself that faux pass, “The road is nice, don’t get me wrong. I like walking, or riding, sleeping in a different place with a different person every night… I got used to it. It feels right. But it isn’t home… my legs get tired sometimes. And so does my soul...”
With one hand, methodically, he whipped his eyes. He was not wailing, though; he was just allowing himself a moment to feel, and he was comfortable enough around Neena to do it, “But when I’m with you? I’m home. When I’m laying and stargazing with you, telling you stories about the constellations; when we tell stories and sing songs and dance together; when we exchange tales of our lands and our journeys; when… we slept embraced… that was home. And I long for it…”, he finally said.
He stopped looking at the place he knew he would never find – at least not yet – and looked at his best friend; the person that there was. His hand softly took her head and he leaned forward to kiss her forehead, before saying, “I love you”, and letting her go… then he burst into giggles, “Shit! Sorry, I got some bacon fat on your forehead… stupid me!”, he said, giggling like a drunk idiot while his eyes had tears trying to dry.
Neena sat and listened to Hesiodos. Given that she already knew a lot of what he was telling her, she got the strong impression that this conversation wasn't about him seeking an audience to hear what he had to say; it was more that he seemed to need to hear it, for himself. And she was simply the sounding board - the safe place where he felt able to be that honest with himself.
As such, there wasn't a lot that she needed to say. She just nodded in the right parts and made sympathetic 'hmmm' noises where they seemed appropriate. She kept him talking and - she hoped - feeling comfortable enough to confront whatever deeply ingrained issues he was trying to summon up. It wasn't until his final confession that she realised how their morning had been the catalyst for his fears and concerns; for what had triggered his memories of family and home, both good and bad.
When he claimed to love her, Neena felt a spark of terror in her chest. The man had said the words before. Jokingly and with mirth and with a slap on the back, as any best friend would. But this felt... different. It felt more serious. Perhaps it was the fact that they had locked lips in recent history or the fact that he was clearly feeling sensitive over his past and needing the connection that she offered. But either way, the sentiment came out with a level of deep-seeded sincerity that it had lacked before.
Which meant it struck Neena cold with fear.
A woman of hated commitment, hated permanency and kept her life deliberately free of attachments and connections that might have to be painfully severed when the road called her on again, the idea of another person being in love with her was something that made her immediately want to run. Far away so that the feelings that had been cultivated could be allowed to perish and wither with distance. So that she wouldn't allow that person to grow closer, only to abandon them down the road.
Neena's mouth opened for a moment as if to respond - for it was clearly that she should - and yet no words came out. Instead, she was interrupted by Hesiodos' giggles - a bizarre and perhaps defensive reaction to her silence? - which spat grease towards her and had her flinching.
Reaching up to wipe bacon oil from her forehead with the inside of her wrist, Neena wasn't laughing when she finally found what she wanted to say...
"Is that why you wander, Hesi?" She asked him, neatly avoiding his spoken sentiments and turning the conversation back onto him rather than his feelings for her. She looked down at her bread, peeling off another strip of crusty surface. She popped it into her mouth, chewed and then spoke around the morsel, with one cheek distended. "Because you're looking for a home?"
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Neena sat and listened to Hesiodos. Given that she already knew a lot of what he was telling her, she got the strong impression that this conversation wasn't about him seeking an audience to hear what he had to say; it was more that he seemed to need to hear it, for himself. And she was simply the sounding board - the safe place where he felt able to be that honest with himself.
As such, there wasn't a lot that she needed to say. She just nodded in the right parts and made sympathetic 'hmmm' noises where they seemed appropriate. She kept him talking and - she hoped - feeling comfortable enough to confront whatever deeply ingrained issues he was trying to summon up. It wasn't until his final confession that she realised how their morning had been the catalyst for his fears and concerns; for what had triggered his memories of family and home, both good and bad.
When he claimed to love her, Neena felt a spark of terror in her chest. The man had said the words before. Jokingly and with mirth and with a slap on the back, as any best friend would. But this felt... different. It felt more serious. Perhaps it was the fact that they had locked lips in recent history or the fact that he was clearly feeling sensitive over his past and needing the connection that she offered. But either way, the sentiment came out with a level of deep-seeded sincerity that it had lacked before.
Which meant it struck Neena cold with fear.
A woman of hated commitment, hated permanency and kept her life deliberately free of attachments and connections that might have to be painfully severed when the road called her on again, the idea of another person being in love with her was something that made her immediately want to run. Far away so that the feelings that had been cultivated could be allowed to perish and wither with distance. So that she wouldn't allow that person to grow closer, only to abandon them down the road.
Neena's mouth opened for a moment as if to respond - for it was clearly that she should - and yet no words came out. Instead, she was interrupted by Hesiodos' giggles - a bizarre and perhaps defensive reaction to her silence? - which spat grease towards her and had her flinching.
Reaching up to wipe bacon oil from her forehead with the inside of her wrist, Neena wasn't laughing when she finally found what she wanted to say...
"Is that why you wander, Hesi?" She asked him, neatly avoiding his spoken sentiments and turning the conversation back onto him rather than his feelings for her. She looked down at her bread, peeling off another strip of crusty surface. She popped it into her mouth, chewed and then spoke around the morsel, with one cheek distended. "Because you're looking for a home?"
Neena sat and listened to Hesiodos. Given that she already knew a lot of what he was telling her, she got the strong impression that this conversation wasn't about him seeking an audience to hear what he had to say; it was more that he seemed to need to hear it, for himself. And she was simply the sounding board - the safe place where he felt able to be that honest with himself.
As such, there wasn't a lot that she needed to say. She just nodded in the right parts and made sympathetic 'hmmm' noises where they seemed appropriate. She kept him talking and - she hoped - feeling comfortable enough to confront whatever deeply ingrained issues he was trying to summon up. It wasn't until his final confession that she realised how their morning had been the catalyst for his fears and concerns; for what had triggered his memories of family and home, both good and bad.
When he claimed to love her, Neena felt a spark of terror in her chest. The man had said the words before. Jokingly and with mirth and with a slap on the back, as any best friend would. But this felt... different. It felt more serious. Perhaps it was the fact that they had locked lips in recent history or the fact that he was clearly feeling sensitive over his past and needing the connection that she offered. But either way, the sentiment came out with a level of deep-seeded sincerity that it had lacked before.
Which meant it struck Neena cold with fear.
A woman of hated commitment, hated permanency and kept her life deliberately free of attachments and connections that might have to be painfully severed when the road called her on again, the idea of another person being in love with her was something that made her immediately want to run. Far away so that the feelings that had been cultivated could be allowed to perish and wither with distance. So that she wouldn't allow that person to grow closer, only to abandon them down the road.
Neena's mouth opened for a moment as if to respond - for it was clearly that she should - and yet no words came out. Instead, she was interrupted by Hesiodos' giggles - a bizarre and perhaps defensive reaction to her silence? - which spat grease towards her and had her flinching.
Reaching up to wipe bacon oil from her forehead with the inside of her wrist, Neena wasn't laughing when she finally found what she wanted to say...
"Is that why you wander, Hesi?" She asked him, neatly avoiding his spoken sentiments and turning the conversation back onto him rather than his feelings for her. She looked down at her bread, peeling off another strip of crusty surface. She popped it into her mouth, chewed and then spoke around the morsel, with one cheek distended. "Because you're looking for a home?"
The fact that Neena wasn’t laughing with made things clear – this was not the place and time to try to defuse the situation with humor. That was something he always did… but right now, he didn’t feel like it. He felt like he needed this, and that this was the moment to be serious… so his eyes continued to stream tears down his cheeks, softly, silently, like a lover’s caress that made him feel just as well.
At her question, he pondered for a moment. Deciding to find clarity in the ale and in the food, he took a bite and a swig, and took his time to think. Finally, he looked at her and said, “Yes and no…”, he declared, confused with himself, but suddenly it seemed clear, thus he explained, both to him and her, “I could have retired by now. I could have used the money I won over the years to purchase a nice house with a vineyard in Taengea, teach music and swordplay to whoever asks, tell stories in the taverns and never go home alone ever again… but would that be home? Perhaps. It should be. But it isn’t for me…”
He didn’t fail to miss her expression, and understand how she felt, even without telling it. Every time he said he told Neena he loved her, he meant it, because he never lied to good friends. But… he felt he needed to reassure her, “For me, home is somewhere where I can be free… so the road could be home, yes, but the problem is that, usually, I’m alone”, he made sure to make emphasis on that last part. His tone sounded bitter, like vinegary wine, “I hate being alone. I dread the possibility of dying alone and forgotten… but I’m never alone with you.”
He took a pause to drink some more. Right now, the feeling of the cool ale made his head hurt less, but as soon as he sighed in delight, he continued, “We’re both free spirits. There is nothing to bound is to anything or anybody… and that’s why I feel at home with you. Because we’re independent together. We are with each other not because we’re attached, but because we want to. I will never ask you to stay with me, and I know you won’t ask the same to me… but if we do it, it’s because it’s our choice, because we’re free to choice”, he closed his eyes, hard, and took a deep breath, “Please tell me I’m making sense…”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
The fact that Neena wasn’t laughing with made things clear – this was not the place and time to try to defuse the situation with humor. That was something he always did… but right now, he didn’t feel like it. He felt like he needed this, and that this was the moment to be serious… so his eyes continued to stream tears down his cheeks, softly, silently, like a lover’s caress that made him feel just as well.
At her question, he pondered for a moment. Deciding to find clarity in the ale and in the food, he took a bite and a swig, and took his time to think. Finally, he looked at her and said, “Yes and no…”, he declared, confused with himself, but suddenly it seemed clear, thus he explained, both to him and her, “I could have retired by now. I could have used the money I won over the years to purchase a nice house with a vineyard in Taengea, teach music and swordplay to whoever asks, tell stories in the taverns and never go home alone ever again… but would that be home? Perhaps. It should be. But it isn’t for me…”
He didn’t fail to miss her expression, and understand how she felt, even without telling it. Every time he said he told Neena he loved her, he meant it, because he never lied to good friends. But… he felt he needed to reassure her, “For me, home is somewhere where I can be free… so the road could be home, yes, but the problem is that, usually, I’m alone”, he made sure to make emphasis on that last part. His tone sounded bitter, like vinegary wine, “I hate being alone. I dread the possibility of dying alone and forgotten… but I’m never alone with you.”
He took a pause to drink some more. Right now, the feeling of the cool ale made his head hurt less, but as soon as he sighed in delight, he continued, “We’re both free spirits. There is nothing to bound is to anything or anybody… and that’s why I feel at home with you. Because we’re independent together. We are with each other not because we’re attached, but because we want to. I will never ask you to stay with me, and I know you won’t ask the same to me… but if we do it, it’s because it’s our choice, because we’re free to choice”, he closed his eyes, hard, and took a deep breath, “Please tell me I’m making sense…”
The fact that Neena wasn’t laughing with made things clear – this was not the place and time to try to defuse the situation with humor. That was something he always did… but right now, he didn’t feel like it. He felt like he needed this, and that this was the moment to be serious… so his eyes continued to stream tears down his cheeks, softly, silently, like a lover’s caress that made him feel just as well.
At her question, he pondered for a moment. Deciding to find clarity in the ale and in the food, he took a bite and a swig, and took his time to think. Finally, he looked at her and said, “Yes and no…”, he declared, confused with himself, but suddenly it seemed clear, thus he explained, both to him and her, “I could have retired by now. I could have used the money I won over the years to purchase a nice house with a vineyard in Taengea, teach music and swordplay to whoever asks, tell stories in the taverns and never go home alone ever again… but would that be home? Perhaps. It should be. But it isn’t for me…”
He didn’t fail to miss her expression, and understand how she felt, even without telling it. Every time he said he told Neena he loved her, he meant it, because he never lied to good friends. But… he felt he needed to reassure her, “For me, home is somewhere where I can be free… so the road could be home, yes, but the problem is that, usually, I’m alone”, he made sure to make emphasis on that last part. His tone sounded bitter, like vinegary wine, “I hate being alone. I dread the possibility of dying alone and forgotten… but I’m never alone with you.”
He took a pause to drink some more. Right now, the feeling of the cool ale made his head hurt less, but as soon as he sighed in delight, he continued, “We’re both free spirits. There is nothing to bound is to anything or anybody… and that’s why I feel at home with you. Because we’re independent together. We are with each other not because we’re attached, but because we want to. I will never ask you to stay with me, and I know you won’t ask the same to me… but if we do it, it’s because it’s our choice, because we’re free to choice”, he closed his eyes, hard, and took a deep breath, “Please tell me I’m making sense…”
Neena waited calmly and quietly as Hesiodos spoke. She didn't interrupt him when he was trying to find the descriptions that best fit his feelings, and she didn't hurry him along when he paused to drink or eat. She simply ate her bread as she wished, peeling away at the crust, a strip at a time and then chewing it thoughtfully. Sometimes she looked at Hesi whilst he spoke, and other times she looked away, not wanting him to feel as if he were being witnessed or stared at as he came through his feelings of self-understanding. It was a process that she had gone through already herself. One that she had gone through upon the leaving of her home with the Zaire.
When he had finished, Neena was quiet for a moment, simply nodding at his query on whether he was making sense.
"You make sense." She told him, before taking a little of the fluffy insides of the bread roll she had been skinning, rolling it into a tight little ball and then popping it into her mouth. She did it all subconsciously and without clear thought as she kept her mind on what Hesiodos had been trying to say.
"I think..." She said, choosing her words carefully. "That you can't have everything in this world." She looked over at Hesi and held out both hands like she was weighing a scale, the roll still in one hand. "Like... people want to be adored but they also want privacy... You can't have both so you have to settle for either a little of each, or the commitment to one without regret of losing the other..."
Neena made a face that was one of intense consideration.
"I don't think you're looking for a home, Hesi." She told him, in her normal blunt manner. "I think you're looking for familiarity." She shrugged. "Something that proves you were here. Something that people remember you for. You want to mean something. And that's what everyone wants, don't you think?" She gave another shrug. "Don't you think that's what your stories are? People will be telling them for years, Hesi. They're going to pass them on to their children and their loved ones..." Neena's eyes widened with passion and encouragment. "You're going to become a small part of so many people's lives now and in the future..."
Having leant forwards with her empassioned speech, Neena then leant back again and settled her back against the wall once more.
"The question is..." She concluded, taking another little handful of the bread and balling it into a little load that she could chew... She tilted her head and raised one shoulder as she did so, offering the ball to now be in Hesi's court. "Is that enough for you? If it is... then you have the life you want and the freedom you want and you have to put aside that feeling of detachment... it's the price of true freedom. If it's not then perhaps you should consider trying to settle down somewhere... having that familiarity and feeling of meaning... but give up the sense of roaming and freedom. Find freedom in how you live rather than where."
The side of Neena's mouth quirked into her cheek as if she were saying - I don't have the answers, bummer dude...
"Only you can answer that one, Hesi. But we can't have it all. We just have to work out what we can survive without."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Neena waited calmly and quietly as Hesiodos spoke. She didn't interrupt him when he was trying to find the descriptions that best fit his feelings, and she didn't hurry him along when he paused to drink or eat. She simply ate her bread as she wished, peeling away at the crust, a strip at a time and then chewing it thoughtfully. Sometimes she looked at Hesi whilst he spoke, and other times she looked away, not wanting him to feel as if he were being witnessed or stared at as he came through his feelings of self-understanding. It was a process that she had gone through already herself. One that she had gone through upon the leaving of her home with the Zaire.
When he had finished, Neena was quiet for a moment, simply nodding at his query on whether he was making sense.
"You make sense." She told him, before taking a little of the fluffy insides of the bread roll she had been skinning, rolling it into a tight little ball and then popping it into her mouth. She did it all subconsciously and without clear thought as she kept her mind on what Hesiodos had been trying to say.
"I think..." She said, choosing her words carefully. "That you can't have everything in this world." She looked over at Hesi and held out both hands like she was weighing a scale, the roll still in one hand. "Like... people want to be adored but they also want privacy... You can't have both so you have to settle for either a little of each, or the commitment to one without regret of losing the other..."
Neena made a face that was one of intense consideration.
"I don't think you're looking for a home, Hesi." She told him, in her normal blunt manner. "I think you're looking for familiarity." She shrugged. "Something that proves you were here. Something that people remember you for. You want to mean something. And that's what everyone wants, don't you think?" She gave another shrug. "Don't you think that's what your stories are? People will be telling them for years, Hesi. They're going to pass them on to their children and their loved ones..." Neena's eyes widened with passion and encouragment. "You're going to become a small part of so many people's lives now and in the future..."
Having leant forwards with her empassioned speech, Neena then leant back again and settled her back against the wall once more.
"The question is..." She concluded, taking another little handful of the bread and balling it into a little load that she could chew... She tilted her head and raised one shoulder as she did so, offering the ball to now be in Hesi's court. "Is that enough for you? If it is... then you have the life you want and the freedom you want and you have to put aside that feeling of detachment... it's the price of true freedom. If it's not then perhaps you should consider trying to settle down somewhere... having that familiarity and feeling of meaning... but give up the sense of roaming and freedom. Find freedom in how you live rather than where."
The side of Neena's mouth quirked into her cheek as if she were saying - I don't have the answers, bummer dude...
"Only you can answer that one, Hesi. But we can't have it all. We just have to work out what we can survive without."
Neena waited calmly and quietly as Hesiodos spoke. She didn't interrupt him when he was trying to find the descriptions that best fit his feelings, and she didn't hurry him along when he paused to drink or eat. She simply ate her bread as she wished, peeling away at the crust, a strip at a time and then chewing it thoughtfully. Sometimes she looked at Hesi whilst he spoke, and other times she looked away, not wanting him to feel as if he were being witnessed or stared at as he came through his feelings of self-understanding. It was a process that she had gone through already herself. One that she had gone through upon the leaving of her home with the Zaire.
When he had finished, Neena was quiet for a moment, simply nodding at his query on whether he was making sense.
"You make sense." She told him, before taking a little of the fluffy insides of the bread roll she had been skinning, rolling it into a tight little ball and then popping it into her mouth. She did it all subconsciously and without clear thought as she kept her mind on what Hesiodos had been trying to say.
"I think..." She said, choosing her words carefully. "That you can't have everything in this world." She looked over at Hesi and held out both hands like she was weighing a scale, the roll still in one hand. "Like... people want to be adored but they also want privacy... You can't have both so you have to settle for either a little of each, or the commitment to one without regret of losing the other..."
Neena made a face that was one of intense consideration.
"I don't think you're looking for a home, Hesi." She told him, in her normal blunt manner. "I think you're looking for familiarity." She shrugged. "Something that proves you were here. Something that people remember you for. You want to mean something. And that's what everyone wants, don't you think?" She gave another shrug. "Don't you think that's what your stories are? People will be telling them for years, Hesi. They're going to pass them on to their children and their loved ones..." Neena's eyes widened with passion and encouragment. "You're going to become a small part of so many people's lives now and in the future..."
Having leant forwards with her empassioned speech, Neena then leant back again and settled her back against the wall once more.
"The question is..." She concluded, taking another little handful of the bread and balling it into a little load that she could chew... She tilted her head and raised one shoulder as she did so, offering the ball to now be in Hesi's court. "Is that enough for you? If it is... then you have the life you want and the freedom you want and you have to put aside that feeling of detachment... it's the price of true freedom. If it's not then perhaps you should consider trying to settle down somewhere... having that familiarity and feeling of meaning... but give up the sense of roaming and freedom. Find freedom in how you live rather than where."
The side of Neena's mouth quirked into her cheek as if she were saying - I don't have the answers, bummer dude...
"Only you can answer that one, Hesi. But we can't have it all. We just have to work out what we can survive without."
At her statement, he let out a breath of relief, “Thanks to the gods…”, he said in almost a whisper. He was worried that he was talking nonsense, that he was just rambling senselessly and that what he said would lead nowhere. If that was the case, then there would be no answer… but since he made sense, it meant that there could be something to solve this. He looked at Neena to see what she would have to say.
She spoke truth in that – Hesiodos was usually someone that liked to have the cake and ate it too, but he had learned a long time ago than, most of the time, that wasn’t possible. He tried to deny it, but the truth was always there. One couldn’t have everything. There would always be someone you can’t sleep with, or a place you can’t go, or an enemy you can’t defeat, or a life you couldn’t have. He wondered if he wanted a little of each, or the commitment of one, and spoke his mind, without thinking, “Life is too short for regret…”, he said, and then let her continue.
His face of consideration mimicked her as she spoke, and he listened to her with all the attention in the world, with his eyes set on her with and her expression. They knew each other for years, so they knew the other as well as themselves… and she was hitting the nail in the head. Yes, that was what he wanted – familiarity, and to be remembered. To be a legend and for his songs and stories to be sung and told for generations… His face then turned into excitement with her encouraging tone, “That is true… I can’t become immortal like the gods, but I can become immortal like the spirits of your ancestors!”, he said with eagerness, then continued to listen.
His face turned once again into deep consideration and thinking. His hand scratched his chin and he pondered for several heartbeats to what she said. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated, so he pondered a bit more, and finally said his part: “It is. It’s truly is”, he declared, “I always told you that I’m a songbird. I sing and make people happy with my songs and presence… but I’m also free to fly. Could you imagine me settling down? It would be like caging a canary. That is no way to live… at least not for me”, he said, suddenly feeling a weight off his shoulders. It all made so much sense now, “Sometimes… I feel like I made the wrong choice. That I want to abandon it all and live a different life. But I need to remind myself that the pros outweigh the cons, and that I’m happy where I am. Thankfully you’re here to help me with that, darling”, he looked at her with thankful eyes.
He whipped away his tears and leaned forward to kiss the top of her head and smile, “Thanks Neena. I love you. And I owe you another beer”, he winked, and decided to finish his own.
He realized that he was home.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
At her statement, he let out a breath of relief, “Thanks to the gods…”, he said in almost a whisper. He was worried that he was talking nonsense, that he was just rambling senselessly and that what he said would lead nowhere. If that was the case, then there would be no answer… but since he made sense, it meant that there could be something to solve this. He looked at Neena to see what she would have to say.
She spoke truth in that – Hesiodos was usually someone that liked to have the cake and ate it too, but he had learned a long time ago than, most of the time, that wasn’t possible. He tried to deny it, but the truth was always there. One couldn’t have everything. There would always be someone you can’t sleep with, or a place you can’t go, or an enemy you can’t defeat, or a life you couldn’t have. He wondered if he wanted a little of each, or the commitment of one, and spoke his mind, without thinking, “Life is too short for regret…”, he said, and then let her continue.
His face of consideration mimicked her as she spoke, and he listened to her with all the attention in the world, with his eyes set on her with and her expression. They knew each other for years, so they knew the other as well as themselves… and she was hitting the nail in the head. Yes, that was what he wanted – familiarity, and to be remembered. To be a legend and for his songs and stories to be sung and told for generations… His face then turned into excitement with her encouraging tone, “That is true… I can’t become immortal like the gods, but I can become immortal like the spirits of your ancestors!”, he said with eagerness, then continued to listen.
His face turned once again into deep consideration and thinking. His hand scratched his chin and he pondered for several heartbeats to what she said. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated, so he pondered a bit more, and finally said his part: “It is. It’s truly is”, he declared, “I always told you that I’m a songbird. I sing and make people happy with my songs and presence… but I’m also free to fly. Could you imagine me settling down? It would be like caging a canary. That is no way to live… at least not for me”, he said, suddenly feeling a weight off his shoulders. It all made so much sense now, “Sometimes… I feel like I made the wrong choice. That I want to abandon it all and live a different life. But I need to remind myself that the pros outweigh the cons, and that I’m happy where I am. Thankfully you’re here to help me with that, darling”, he looked at her with thankful eyes.
He whipped away his tears and leaned forward to kiss the top of her head and smile, “Thanks Neena. I love you. And I owe you another beer”, he winked, and decided to finish his own.
He realized that he was home.
At her statement, he let out a breath of relief, “Thanks to the gods…”, he said in almost a whisper. He was worried that he was talking nonsense, that he was just rambling senselessly and that what he said would lead nowhere. If that was the case, then there would be no answer… but since he made sense, it meant that there could be something to solve this. He looked at Neena to see what she would have to say.
She spoke truth in that – Hesiodos was usually someone that liked to have the cake and ate it too, but he had learned a long time ago than, most of the time, that wasn’t possible. He tried to deny it, but the truth was always there. One couldn’t have everything. There would always be someone you can’t sleep with, or a place you can’t go, or an enemy you can’t defeat, or a life you couldn’t have. He wondered if he wanted a little of each, or the commitment of one, and spoke his mind, without thinking, “Life is too short for regret…”, he said, and then let her continue.
His face of consideration mimicked her as she spoke, and he listened to her with all the attention in the world, with his eyes set on her with and her expression. They knew each other for years, so they knew the other as well as themselves… and she was hitting the nail in the head. Yes, that was what he wanted – familiarity, and to be remembered. To be a legend and for his songs and stories to be sung and told for generations… His face then turned into excitement with her encouraging tone, “That is true… I can’t become immortal like the gods, but I can become immortal like the spirits of your ancestors!”, he said with eagerness, then continued to listen.
His face turned once again into deep consideration and thinking. His hand scratched his chin and he pondered for several heartbeats to what she said. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated, so he pondered a bit more, and finally said his part: “It is. It’s truly is”, he declared, “I always told you that I’m a songbird. I sing and make people happy with my songs and presence… but I’m also free to fly. Could you imagine me settling down? It would be like caging a canary. That is no way to live… at least not for me”, he said, suddenly feeling a weight off his shoulders. It all made so much sense now, “Sometimes… I feel like I made the wrong choice. That I want to abandon it all and live a different life. But I need to remind myself that the pros outweigh the cons, and that I’m happy where I am. Thankfully you’re here to help me with that, darling”, he looked at her with thankful eyes.
He whipped away his tears and leaned forward to kiss the top of her head and smile, “Thanks Neena. I love you. And I owe you another beer”, he winked, and decided to finish his own.