gods of olympia

Classical Divinity Asks
  • Zeus: What is your favourite kind of weather?
  • Hera: What is the last book you read?
  • Poseidon: Where is your favorite place to go on a weekday afternoon when you have no plans or obligations?
  • Demeter: Are you spiritual or religious in any way? If so, how?
  • Athena: Would you rather be anxious and intelligent or carefree and simple?
  • Apollo: Name the last song you listened to?
  • Artemis: Do you believe it is vital to everyday life to know what is happening in the world around you?
  • Ares: Do you still remember arguments or upsets from over 5 years ago? Do they still bother you today?
  • Aphrodite: What did you love most about the place you grew up? What about it did you love the least?
  • Hephaestus: Do you have a favorite/most interesting Wikipedia page?
  • Hermes: What's the best nickname you've ever been called? & what's the worst?
  • Hestia: What is the weirdest scar you have and how did you get it?
  • Dionysus: If happiness was the national currency, what kind of work would make you rich?
  • Hades: If you could find out the date of your death, would you want to know?
  • Heracles: What has been your biggest challenge in life so far?
  • Persephone: What one thing have you not done that you really want to do? What’s holding you back?
  • Asclepius: What you ever lied about being ill to avoid school or work? If so, how elaborate have your stories been?
  • Eros: How did you meet your best friend?

Hestia Aesthetic ; requested by @brokenshardsofmoonlight

In Ancient Greek religion, Hestia is a virgin goddess of the hearth, architecture, and the right ordering of domesticity, the family, the home, and the state. In Greek mythology, she is a daughter of Cronus and Rhea, and the eldest of the Olympian Gods.

*
“there, I drowned, back before, once.
there, I knew how to swim but couldn’t.

there, men stood by shore & watched me blue.
there, I was a dead fish, the river’s prince.

there, I had a face & then I didn’t.
there, my mother cried over me

but I wasn’t there. I was here, by my own
water, singing a song I learned somewhere

south of somewhere worse. that was when
direction mattered. now, everywhere

I am is the center of everything.
I must be the lord of something.

what was I before? a boy? a son?
a warning? a myth? I whistled

now I’m the God of whistling.
I built my Olympia downstream. 

*

you are not welcome here. trust
the trip will kill you. go home.

we earned this paradise
by a death we didn’t deserve.

I am sure there are other heres.
a somewhere for every kind

of somebody, a heaven of brown
girls braiding on golden stoops

but here — 
how could I ever explain to you — 


someone prayed we’d rest in peace& here we are

in peace             whole                all summer”

From, “summer, somewhere,” by Danez Smith

9

╰     ENDLESS  SUMMER  MAIN  CHARACTER   :   AESTHETICS     ╮ ↪  AISLYN  OLYMPIA   (   REDACTED   )  .

i wasn’t ready to have no place for my roots to grow but here i am, some kind of rootless. like a lily pad — sweet water terror no real bloom yet, roots skirting past the backs of minnows or some other finned thing. turns out i gotta move out of my house by the end of january. i think i’ve got something lined up, so i feel okay, at least for the month — sweet sublet at a friend’s. i’m a self-sabotaging fool but we don’t need to talk about it, only that i have created a chaos that i have control over in a swarming chaos that goes on with me, without my say. i’m bitter i’m angry i’m full of some grief that i was not ready for and that was to be left to my own accord and i wasn’t ready for that yet — to have all these unresolved things. to feel so intensely, to feel so intensely… i made a promise to myself to be kind but that’s turning out more difficult than i thought it was going to be because what models does one follow to have compassion? i’m really trying but it’s scaring me. i’ve been making doctors appointments and i laughed when the allergist told me ballpark $400-800 because i cannot afford that but here i am making the appointment anyways! called a therapist specializing in cult recovery & other fun things. am seeing a naturopath the day i get back. i’m, whoo! exhausted. doctors are exhausting. how many times can i explain myself. 

the other day my wallet was stolen the second i stepped foot into midtown which is hilarious because new york knows i have grown too soft, too dreamy-eyed or whatever. all ferns and cedar trees and talking about healing. i forgot to keep an eye on my things, having moved somewhere where people often don’t lock their car doors at nights. i sat on a step in front of some bank and sobbed and lit a cigarette knowing i would regret it because it would cause a flare up but i was sobbing and screaming at the passersby telling them to stop fucking looking at me and putting curses on the motherfucker who stole my wallet calling my father laughing hysterically thinking, “this is it! this is it, isn’t it. this is exactly what needed to fucking happen” all while the days move on the clouds move over us and every minute some boat takes off from a dock nearby to touch the throat of another place, crossing millions of minnows all the while. i feel rootless, something finless and wafting like an oak leaf dropped and sunk into a body of a lake. i won’t say that new york makes me feel like this, but being back here has been reminding me that there is no back here anymore and there are triggers everywhere reminding me of when i was so shapeless and so bound to what other people wanted of me because i had no model of normality and at least thank god for olympia for giving me the freedom of myself. thank god for olympia for showing me boundaries. but god, coming back here. the shapeless metallic city.

i have been sleeping for more days than i’ve been awake since i’ve been back. have been having a flare-up or a strange, lingering sore throat. drank too much the first week. was a day late to have tteokguk. met with shuang who said she loves me and that i am not a bad person. was looking at her too intensely because i don’t know how to have human interactions very well right now. have been meeting with people who have had chances to heal and who tell me, after-the-fact — you just must fall into it shinji. you just must go into that place it hurts and love it. it is yours. “how long did it take you?” “a year.” “how did you do it?” “i let myself go.” something about morgan is the everything of love. we have been writing each other letters all year. we meet at curry in a hurry and sit eating sweets upstairs wrapped in our scarves, and i am comforted at her movements because they bring me back to who i am. remind me of the way my hands move when i am warm and lilting and loving. her presence holding as i could not be in that movement, could do little but wrap my scarf around my body and be ashamed of my oozing, cracked hands and say, “it is hard and i do not know how to do it but i know i will make it through but i haven’t built the boat yet.” and she laughs and she doesn’t say “we are already in the boat!” but i leave feeling as if that were the case. 

tired, i’m tired. i’m staying at my friend’s house. her mother has taken me in as her daughter. this family has treated me so kindly, has given me a room — a futon with sheets over it. a blanket. in my attic i find four boxes of books that i had stored here last year when i moved away, and find my copy of my side of the mountain — my favorite book growing up. about a kid who runs away from home to live in a tree in the catskills, and am comforted in the story — the ease to which you can just catch a falcon, live in a hemlock, make acorn pancakes, pick strawberries in the summer wild. this morning, after having only slept a few hours after getting into an argument with someone i love on the phone, the mother finds me sitting at the dining room table absent-mindedly drawing lines in my notebook and i tell her “nicole i am not doing okay i don’t think” and she asks me what’s wrong and i can’t tell her and start to cry and she stands up and holds me and holds me, and lets me cry. “i know, shinji. that this has been hard for you. you have been trying so well. but you do not need to make yourself so small. you do not need to make yourself disappear. you are not bad. i know that you feel alone and that you feel helpless and like you need to do it on your own, but we all need people. it’s okay to need people. you are human, and you are cared for, and you are going to make it through. breathe.

shinji, just breathe.”

LISTEN UP FUCKERS BECAUSE I’M ABOUT TO IMPART SOME WISDOM

YOU SEE THAT RIGHT THERE

THAT IS A DELICIOUS PASTA EXPLOSION THAT I JUST MADE ACCIDENTALLY AND IF YOU TOO WOULD LIKE TO TASTE THE FUCKIN TEARS OF JOY CREEPING INTO MY MOUTH THEN PAY ATTENTION AND FETCH THESE THINGS:

  • GET SOME FUCKIN PASTA, DOESN’T MATTER WHAT PASTA BUT YOU KNOW WHAT’S FUN? TRICOLOUR FUCKIN FUSILLI IS FUN
  • SHAVE SOME GINGER OFF A THING OF GINGER BUT IF YOU DON’T HAVE THE REAL KNARLY BASTARD THEN I RECKON POWDERED GINGER WILL DO
  • GRAB A COUPLE GOD DAMN TOMATOES
  • IF YOU EAT MEAT THEN CUT UP HAM INTO LIL BITS OR BACON OR WHATEVER MEAT YOU FUCKIN DESIRE
    IF YOU DON’T EAT MEAT THEN THROW THAT SHIT AWAY OR MAYBE PUT SOME QUORN IN
  • BURY YOUR HAND DEEP IN SOME SPINACH AND YANK THAT IN AS WELL BECAUSE SPINACH IS THE SHIT
  • YOU’RE ALSO GONNA NEED ONE WHOLE SPOONFUL OF FLOUR
  • AND ANOTHER OF FUCKIN BUTTER
  • AND AS MUCH MILK AS JESUS HIMSELF WOULD DESIRE AND HELLA FUCKIN CHEESE

NOW LISTEN TO ME BECAUSE I’M GONNA SHOW YOU HOW TO MAKE THIS FUCKIN DESTINY OF PASTA

  1. FIRST YOU NEED TO BOIL YOUR WATER AND ONCE YOU’VE DONE THAT YOU DUMP THAT PASTA RIGHT IN LIKE YOU’RE AT THE FUCKIN JAM
    NOW THAT THE PASTA’S BUBBLING IT’S TIME TO MAKE THE FUCKIN FILLING YEAH, YEAH

  2. NOW GET A SAUCEPAN AND WITHOUT LETTING A SINGLE DROP OF OIL TOUCH THE BOTTOM YOU TAKE YOUR GARLIC AND YOUR GINGER AND FUCKIN TOMATOES AND SPINACH AND MEAT AND YOU SHOVE THEM ALL INTO THE SAUCEPAN AT ONCE HELL FUCKING YEAH FUCK THE RULES OF COOKING

  3. THEY GONNA START TO HEAT UP AND COOK SOON SO WHILE THAT’S HAPPENING YOU SIT BACK RELAX AND TAKE THE OPPORTUNITY TO GRATE SOME FUCKIN CHEESE OR TASTE THE PASTA TO SEE IF IT’S DONE OR EVEN BETTER PREPARE FOR THE NEXT FUCKIN STEP YEA

  4. NOW YOU TAKE YOUR SPOONFUL OF BUTTER AND FIRE IT INTO THE FUCKIN SAUCEPAN AND ONCE IT MELTS YOU SHOWER IN THE FLOUR LIKE IT GIVES YA POWER AND YA MIX IT ALL UP UNTIL IT LOOKS LIKE FUCKIN MELTED BUTTER MIXED WITH FLOUR

  5. WHEN ALL THE SHIT RESEMBLES SOME SORT OF BREADCRUMB SLASH DOUGH, YOU TAKE YOUR MILK AND YOU DRIZZLE A WEE TINY LIL BIT ON LIKE YOU’RE THE FUCKIN WEATHER, AND YOU STIR AND FUCKIN STIR UNTIL IT SMOOTHS OUT, AND THEN WHAT DO YOU DO? YOU KEEP ADDING MORE LIL BITS OF THE FUCKIN MILK THAT’S WHAT YOU DO AMIGO CAPICHE? CAPICHE

  6. DOESN’T MATTER HOW MUCH MILK YOU PUT IN BECAUSE WHEN IT LOOKS THICK AND TASTY ENOUGH TO BE CONSUMED BY THE GODS OF OLYMPIA THEN BY JOVE ITS FUCKING READY SO NOW YOU ADD THE CHEESE AND STIR IT UP UP UP STIR IT UP UP UP I’M ON FIRE BUT YOUR FOOD SHOULDN’T BE YGM

  7. OH AND YOU BEST NOT FORGET ABOUT THE FUCKIN PASTA BECAUSE AT SOME POINT YOU GOTTA TAKE THAT BABY OUT FOR DINNER, THAT BEING YOUR DINNER, THAT BEING YOU GOTTA STRAIN THE PASTA SO YOU CAN EAT IT

  8. NOW THE TIME HAS COME TO TAKE THAT PASTA AND FUCKING ENGULF IT IN THE BEAUTIFUL SAUCY CONCOCTION BECAUSE GUESS WHAT YOUR FOOD IS READY YOU EAT IT AND FEEL FUCKIN PROUD BECAUSE MY FRIEND YOU HAVE CREATED A FUCKIN MASTERPIECE THAT’S WORTH THIS LONGASS POST

THAT’S ALL FOLKS

ENJOY THE FUCKING PASTA

2

Wow! what a year. 2015 really was a year of change, of community, of improvements. I met a lot of new cool mun friends & improved my skills alot! I’d like to take everyone esp god ft. Jesus, Olympia, Pokeanime, my sons and dorters. So! let’s cut to the chase kay? Everyone is fire but here are a few peoples that make my roleplaying experience grand.

                                                                #AZUHIVE

@spookidan, @sola–cordis, @andromediii, @ferociter, @ikanotita, @lookertickets, @dhampyrite, @ocelthot @vincitxmnia, @honeycrafts, @brideofsparda. @shunrae, @decadra@wingsland @galaxychord, @thebestshxt, @menrites, @achromatic-colress, @perpetualshades, @eternalcrimsoneyes, @arraneous, @destructiveglitch@spacesavior, @unstoppablefate@astriferouus.

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Hades

Of all the gods and goddesses in Olympia, Regina was an enigma. She did not cavort with the other gods and goddesses, eschewing their presence. Many whispered it was because the dark had taken her and she could not stand to be in the light for too long. Others believed she was jealous of how beloved the others. After all, who could love the goddess of death?

            It was a question Regina herself pondered every day of her existence as Queen of the Underworld. The mortals who lived in Olympia would’ve been shocked to learn she chose this duty, a choice she had come to regret. She had made it when she was young and grief-stricken. Regina had fallen in love with a mortal, a young man who raised horses. He had found her offering an apple to one of his mares and offered to teach her to ride. She had accepted and as their lessons continued, they fell in love.

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