#smas

It began, as one might expect, with a goddess of creation — and ended as one might infer, with the god of the dead.

But the space between spanned more than just the course of a life — or lives.

In this particular incident, things carried over generations, from Gaia herself to the many children she had and then their children. You see, a man never truly dies until his story is forgotten and a story can be changed and retold a thousand different ways.

Therefore, let me sing you a new story of Gaia, her children, and Hades — the star of the hour. --------------------------------------------

Throughout her long existence, Gaia had been called many names, in many different tongues. Her favorite, though, had been Mother and then Grandmother when her children’s children came along.

She loved her children and adored her grandkids and would do anything for them. Even if it meant defying her husband, denying the powers of the universe and outright spitting in the face of Fate herself. So maybe she had to hide away for a bit, adopt a new name. She was still the same person.

And when it came to the time when her husband finally found her eldest grandchild, the last in hiding, Gaia showed her hand and slapped him in the face with it.

Literally.

The sounds of her fight with Uranus shook the heavens like thunderclaps and the seas like tidal waves.

And for someone like Josie, who was only a passable swimmer in calm waters, it was nearly a death sentence.

One moment, she was having dinner with her grandma in a cafe by the river. The next thing she knew, there was a strange man trying to snatch her up.

Josie had always known her grandma was a tough woman, never one to take any nonsense or disrespect sitting down, and had always assumed she’d be the kind to fight for her family.

But to see it in person!

Even she had no idea of the elder woman’s power.

The elder woman scuffled with a stranger like it was no strange occurance and didn’t lose any ground for it, taking a licking and coming back kicking every time — and even throwing in a good tongue lashing while she was at it.

So when Josie was tossed into the river with nary a scream, too shocked by the turn of events to even make a sound, it was a bit unexpected

Distantly, she recalled the sight of her grandmother suddenly growing to an outrageous size as she attacked the strange man who interrupted their meal. But the image was quickly lost when Josie found himself resurfacing from the river to stinging saltwater in her eyes and the harsh mid-day sun shining down on her.

Josie began treading water on instinct and gaped at the bright sky in disbelief.

It had just been night!

“Help!” Josie barely managed to squeak out between unfortunate gulps of seawater. She was barely even thrashing, finding she could only continue to grab over her head for a surface that wasn’t there. All her years of swimming in pools and lakes went forgotten as her body began to drown.

But Gaia’s penchant of defying fate wasn’t a singular trait. It was hereditary — and had passed along to Poseidon and his brood.

It was with no small amount of youthful glee that the middle son and his lover, both yet unseen, raised a great swell beneath his still in-the-dark sibling and sent her riding a wave towards the nearest shore.

Josie, still unknowing of her family’s true nature let alone the existence of another world, finally managed a scream as she was suddenly lifted from the sea and tossed onto dry dock.

It was unpleasant to say the least.

But even being slammed into the dock couldn’t compare with the scene that came after.

Pure destruction littered the streets of the unknown town.

Smog and dust filled the air, just barely lit enough for Josie to see the buildings that composed the town.

Or rather, what was left of it.

Some buildings remained standing on bare bones, husks of homes and stores that had been knocked from their foundations, looted of possessions and then had their windows and doors smashed for good measure. The rest of the town was rubble, broken boards and smashed stone, scraps of paper and cloth, abandoned belongings and rotten food.

For one horrible moment, Josie thought she’d been dropped onto the set of the Walking Dead.

The warped reality set in as she managed to pull herself to her feet and recognize the wreckage beneath her feet.

She was standing on some sort of sign, worn with both age and abuse.

Orange Town

A sense of foreboding filled her as she lifted her eyes to the only ship in dock.

Bigger than any boat she had ever seen and undeniably circus-themed, the Big Top towered over her in both sheer height and width.

Josie gaped at the familiar Jolly Roger in horror, only managing to tear her eyes away when a nearby ‘clink!’ made her startle.

The same clownish Jolly Roger grinned up at her from a small metal ball near her feet.

Josie paled.