#lustrums

Jason’s not sure what compelled him to travel to the cultural sector, much less to the statue of his father there, but here he is.

He stares at the blank-eyed Zeus, so unlike his father’s actual likeness that it makes Jason uncomfortable for a moment. As he relaxes, he reminds himself that the real Zeus (or Jupiter, or whatever he wants to call himself) has hardly had anything more than a symbolic influence on Jason’s life as it is. What does it matter if the faces are different? Stone or flesh, his inaction is the same.

Jason talks. He keeps at it for a long time, explaining how he’s been treated since he got here, how he’s got that wound in his gut that won’t heal. How he’s died since he first got here. How he’s still dying, even after resurrection. He talks until he gets angry, until his throat gets dry and his eyes wet. He turns in frustration, just in time to notice someone passing -- someone who just inconveniently noticed him speaking to a statue as if it were a real person.

          Whoops. Jason blushes up his neck.

❝Um, hey. It’s not...what it looks like, I promise. This guy’s actually my father.❞ He winces. ❝I mean, not the statue! Just...the person the statue is modeled on. Actually, the god.❞