WOE TO ORACLES, they who bare the burden of a god's misplaced love && favor. woe to them, truly, they who see nightmares in their waking hours — them who, surely, he has harmed by coming back more than any other. yes, more than any chimera or manticore or wayward demigod in need of an ego-check, he must have harmed oracles all the more. he pities them: what a migraine he must be to them, though perhaps better a migraine than an ache in the heart, as he's certain many a mother has suffered 'cause of him.
all of this to say, when fair-weather gods request him to seek a person of foresight out, he is all too hesitant. he cannot disobey — such is the nature of his life, his thread which is cats-cradled 'tween their mighty hands — but oh, he wishes he could. let him be !! do not make him stare into the face of one whom he has undoubtedly hurt, not again !! not again, he says, not again !!
he does not say this aloud, however. he keeps his howls to his heart and, with a sigh, begins his search.
he knows little of what to seek. perhaps it will be someone of fantastical appearance, or someone of wanton wisdom. perhaps they will appear as nereus, old && withered — or worse, as apollo, toned && handsome. a devious future in either regard !!
and yet, he understands that they are more than likely aware of him looking... so then, why not sit ?? he knows the general area thanks to the loose lips of hermes && a scant other spirits, && — if they are truly gifted with foresight — then surely they must see him coming from miles upon miles away. surely they must know, as he does, that their meeting is inevitable.
and so he reclines 'gainst a building's corner, jacket adorned && mortal-hidden shield tight on his back. he makes no sound && moves only rarely; the passing glance may confuse him for a statue, tucked 'way && out of the average citizen's path.
he intends to do this only as long as it takes someone to speak to him properly, to regard him as an oracle-seeker. should nothing happen... then it is back to the search, back to wandering corners in search of what he believes oracles to be — tragic women in search of divine relief which they will never receive.
