#maourljoss

                                  ❝   REMEMBER WHAT I SAID ;   ❞        A sotto voiced counterpoint to the shout   of  vendors  hawking  their  wares  in  this  Market  open  to  occultists  all  and  sundry.  The tradesmen here were of a bent beyond pretty silver athame and goblet, or jewelry to wind promises tight around wrist and throat; they dealt in blood, in offal, in the brimstone stink of fantastic creatures’ guts.          ❝   No celestial light shows. No displays of divine wrath. We’re trying to blend.   ❞

“Is that really what you think...? That I’d be better off without you?”

HE CAN’T believe this. He is in LITERAL shock, but in truth there had been a growing suspicion that perhaps Apollo wasn’t feeling in the right about all of this. There’s a small frown before his hands fold together quietly.

                                       ❝  I HAVE NEWS.  ❞     MEG DOESN’T BOTHER TO QUALIFY WITH ‘BAD’. SHE WOULD NOT have called him all the way to the peninsula for anything good. To Kalabaka all winter-sleepy in the temperate cool of mid winter, of days aching away into the long hours. Beyond the hotel windows the sun has shimmered down to nothing, is the liquid remnants of itself melting scarlet as a ill omen across the Metéora in the distance.   ❝ Someone murdered the new Pythia. ❞ 

“Is your sister nagging you again?”

Artemis was a FUN topic for them to chat about considering she spent most of her time IGNORING the goddess’s calls despite the fact that she’d taken lectures from said shrill woman. Yet she can’t help but find a bond with her.