sixthiterationlogs | " I closed my eyes. If I had been a mortal, I would have heard the beating of my heart."

WHO: Circe
WHERE: The village, the woods
WHEN: 6/3
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Mentions of mortality and death

The Village

Fear was rare in the gods and it was always over the unknown. For Circe, the moment that fear came to her was not when she climbed out of the fountain and found herself in a different realm, it was when she heard the sound of her heart and felt blood racing through her veins. Mortality was a concept she had thought of and considered, but never experienced and not in such a jarring way. It was almost as though she were living Glaucus' tale, she fell asleep and was changed. But she knew the reason behind his transformation. Had she done this to herself?

As she had when she arrived on Aiaiai, she had needed a day to curl in her room and let her fears pass before she explored and accepted her home. This was no difference. She disappeared after her arrival, preferring the woods to the village. She had found a mossy bank surrounded by strange flowers, wrapped herself into a ball and slept.

When the morning came, she was dry, the strange bracelet was still on her wrist and she could still hear her heartbeat. This wasn't a dream and she couldn't allow herself to cry herself until she became a tree or stone. Resolved, Circe pushed herself from her hideaway and trailed back towards the village. There was more life now, something that she hadn't seen the night before. There were animals, the sound of others working and mortals tilling in the fields.

She watched at a distance for a time, trying to decide whether this was some set prepared by the Olympians or some new punishment devised for her by the Fates. Had Aeetes cast some spell? It seemed unlikely and her intuition said no. With that simple reassurance, she pushed herself to find an empty home, assuming that it was for them to choose, ready and prepared for them. There was one near the riverbank that she liked, close to what looked like a Mill.

It was empty and dirty, unlike the mansion she had been given during her exile, though this meant little. It gave her something to focus on instead. She pulled her pant legs up to her knee and tied her hair into a loose braid, ready to work. The rooms needed dusting and there were paw prints from animals, she would have to find something to hunt the predators (as well as provide company.) Much of the plumbing was foreign to her, but that didn't matter in the moment.

She took the linens from the bedroom, washing them in the nearby river. There was a stone she could use to beat the sheets with, but this needed someone else to help her lay out the linens against larger stones. She scanned the path, curious and hesitant. Still, being shy and hanging her head would do her no good now. Summoning that same courage her powers had given her before, she called out to a passing mortal. "Could you come help me?" Not a demand, that was where the gods would mock her. "I need another set of hands if I hope to get these dry before the sun goes down."

The Forest

Her second day in the village was to clean her home, the third was to rebuild the garden that she had left behind in Aiaiai. She hadn't taken the time to explore the woods after she arrived, wanting to rest and let everything sink in (though she still had no answers). Most of the plants in the village gardens and fields were familiar to her, as hundreds of cultivating them allowed. But there were different flowers and vines in the forest that she didn't recognize. They didn't sing to her as her garden had, another unfriendly reminder of the magic she had lost. The creatures were different as well. There were no boars or wolves to keep her company, only strange amalgamations of two different types of animals. It left her questioning whether this was Zeus' personal playground, the place where his monsters could grow, but that seemed unlikely.

There were hostile creatures and others that were hesitant, but a few friendlier animals approached her. By the time of late afternoon, she had found a small collection of beasts to take back with her. Something that was pink and resembled a type of sheep, an animal that jumped as high as a goat but looked close to an elk, a weird crocodile/dog mesh and a cat with peacock feathers. They regarded her in different terms, but they were enticed enough to follow, both by treats, kind words and simply curiosity.

With a full basket, she was nearing the forest's edge, animals in tow. It was only the sudden snapping of a branch that nearly made them all disperse and run back into the wild. "No, don't be afraid!" She turned, dropping her basket as she knelt to try and lure them back towards her. "It's only a mortal. There's nothing to fear. They won't hurt you." She looked over her shoulder towards the figure. "Stay still. They don't know to trust you yet."

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She was never shy in enlisting help when it was needed. While the other gods would be affronted to ask a mortal for anything, Circe preferred the toil and company. She was not so proud that it was humiliating and there was no reason to try and spare herself from that. This was a new realm, a new form of exile. If the gods were laughing at her, let them laugh. She intended to survive.

The man seemed friendly enough, though large and imposing. He was obviously a hunter, as the bow and hound indicated. He was quick to follow her direction and she was quicker still to shove a bundle of sheets into his arms. "I need to lay these out on the large rock there." She pointed further down the shore. The rock was flat and wide, allowing her to spread everything out under the sun and to give her space to clean without sand or soil staining the linens.

"The wind is a bit fierce today, it bundles them up before I have a chance to lay them flat. Another pair of hands would make this simpler." Despite being in an unfamiliar place, and despite being without her magic, she still felt that charge of confidence. As though she were mistress of this village as she had been mistress of her island. It kept her from cowering in the face of an unfamiliar figure, as many nymphs might.

"Am I interrupting your hunting?"

Arado trotted up to the new arrival, curious about this person that he'd never seen before and being slightly wary but not aggressive - not a bad reaction for a hunting dog, really. Clint, however, suddenly found his arms full of wet sheet, and while he'd known she'd needed help with her laundry, that wasn't quite what he was expecting and it rocked him back on his heels a bit. It wasn't enough to over-set him or especially lose his balance, which he quickly regained in order to follow her.

"It can wait for a bit - you've gotta be new, so I'm guessing you don't have a clothesline?" Rooting around in a few of the houses had produced some of those, at least, and cord was fairly easy to make from tree fiber from the logs chopped for firewood. "Seems like putting 'em on the ground'll just get them dirty again." Sure, the rock might have less dirt than the rivershore or the mud, but there'd still be some. Regardless of his own clothing, though, Clint sorted through the bundle of linens that had been shoved at him to throw one sheet over his shoulder, finding the end of the other and starting to wrap it up in a spiral form. As he tightened the twist, following her to the rock, the water started running from the fabric to drip onto the ground and his boots.

She knelt, offering her hand out to the dog. While she didn't have the same magic to tame animals, she trusted that her presence was friendly enough to put the creature at ease. She ran her fingers over his fur, missing her lion and wolves. The nights would be long without them and she would be truly alone again, something she hadn't had to suffer for centuries. Now the darkness would find ways to play with her imagination and there would be nothing to soothe her until dawn.

Circe smirked at his suggestion, though a clothesline was a foreign word to her. "You have never had to beat laundry before?" Because soap was not a concept she knew, she only beat a rock against the sheets. What did it matter if it was laid out in the sun? "If you know a better way, then I will put you to work and have you set up a 'clothesline'." Whatever that was?

"Better you act rather than simply talk about it. I don't have much time today before the sun comes down, I should like to have everything ready for the night."

Arado didn't accept the touches easily; it was drilled into him to protect his pack, and this new woman was not pack yet. Elkhounds could get over-energetic, and so Clint had worked hard to train him to funnel that energy into something productive, and also so he didn't scare anyone that was trying to be friendly. He whimpered a little, but Clint gave a one-word command in German, and he submitted himself to it willingly enough. Clint figured that anyone who was decently respectful and wanted to pet a dog should get to pet a dog.

"I've had to beat car rugs against the fence sometimes, but we pretty much just wash things." Her phrasing definitely made him look at her with a very much what the hell? expression, and honestly he almost dropped everything he was holding and walked away right then and there. Just because he was willing to do her a favor or lend a hand didn't mean he was up for being talked down to like that, and he definitely had other things he could be doing besides that. "'Put me to work?' Lady, I've got better things to do than be ordered around by someone I don't even know."

It was a stark reminder to her how different her life was now. Where once she wrestled with her lion and tamed the wolves and boars of her island, now she had to wait for a dog to be commanded to let her pet him. She smiled sadly, scratching behind his ears before rising once again to her feet. There was an emptiness in her where her magic had been, a silence where she could hear the life and power in all things.

He was using words that she didn't recognize again, but it was the incredulous expression that caught her attention. "I meant it kindly, forgive me." It had been so long since she had someone as company that she was more used to giving directions rather than actually ask for help. "If I am taking you from something, I won't keep you."

At her apology, Clint relaxed a little, even though he still wasn't exactly pleased. She was an adult, so it was confusing to him how she'd be so oblivious, especially since she'd been pretty polite before that.

At that point, his brain caught up with him and reminded him that not everyone came from a time he was familiar with, or even a world he was familiar with. Sure, variations of his Earth seemed to be the most prominent places to pull people into this mess, but it wasn't a hard and fast rule as he knew from talking with Baze and Ned. If this woman came from somewhere completely different (and if she didn't know what a clothesline was, that was probably true), that would explain a lot, and the best thing he could do would be help her, trying to lead by example. He wasn't entirely confident in his ability to do that, but, well, better try, right?

"You might've meant it kindly, but saying it like that's not gonna win you a lot of friends." It felt weird to be explaining this - this was something he'd had to talk to his kids about, when they were really little. Not a grown woman. "Most people here're willing to help, but just remember not to try and boss people around, okay? A clothesline's just a small rope or thick cord you string up between two trees or something sturdy and hang things you just washed on. There might be one in the kitchen of your house, and if you just got here you probably need soap. That's in the butcher's shop in the middle of town."

"It has been some time since I have been with others." Or truly ever had a friend. Glauchus was one once, but his sudden shift into godhood had changed him into a man more interested in his own glories than anything else. Love and friendship were nothing, only trinkets to adorn his reputation. "I meant to tease you, but it came across as something else." Another moment where she said or did the wrong thing in her life.

"I suppose I am still too similar to my family than I meant to be." Mortals built altar fires and prayed to the gods. She had thought she was better than that. Her cheeks still burned with embarrassment. "Truly, I am sorry."

Still, she wasn't able to follow completely his line of thinking. The clothesline seemed like a clever idea, but soap? "What is 'soap?'" She asked him, bundling the sheet in her arms. Her scrubs were becoming damp again, but she paid it little mind. Her chores would dry her once again. "Could you help me make a clothesline?"

" I closed my eyes. If I had been a mortal, I would have heard the beating of my heart."

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