“Cool! I thought about like, making it from scratch but that seemed like way too much work.” Eve likes cooking, but she refuses to put too much effort in things.
“Right. I love making it from scratch. But I know it takes a lot of effort and that’s not for everyone.“ Saima never begrudges the means people have for getting to have good food.
“i wish we could bring Halloween up to olympus. it’d be so much fun. unfortunately i don’t think it’ll be happening anytime soon.” it’s a bit disappointing if you ask her. she’d be more than willing to plan everything by herself if it meant having it actually happen. ( just wait until the pint sized goddess sees the celebration for christmas. ) “i’m telling you, it’s true. i always give the yellow and orange ones to my sons and stash away the pink and red ones for myself.“ that’s some grade a parenting right there.
“That would certainly be entertaining, to say the least. “ They understood why Halloween wasn’t likely to come up to Olympus – didn’t seem to fit the style of many of those inhabiting there. “Hah, that’s how you do it. Right in the tradition of parents picking out the best candy for themselves.“ They give a little laugh in approval at Hebe’s’ mischief.
“The appeal is real. Although it really makes me look forward to St. Martin’s and St. Catherine’s day. Kids continue to dress up but as particular figures to ask for treats and sing folk songs – celebrating the end of the harvest and the arrival of winter respectively. It’s a really enjoyable sight“
“Is it good?” Some people don’t like frozen cookie dough, but she absolutely adores it.
“It is pretty good actually. “Frozen cookie dough is delightful especially with a little icing involved. Saima happily enjoys the rest of their cookie.
The tone of the other made his brow furrow in slight irritation. It sounded uncomfortably like himself from time to time, hearing it in others wasn’t as amusing. Still, he had become unsettled in the first place by something else, not their attitude.
His hand dropped from the sword to instead cross his arms across his chest, wings lightly beating once behind him. Made aware of his own body language, he cursed himself; a defensive priest? Dammit. Loosening his arms again, he was growing more and more frustrated by the minute.
“Don’t say that,” he finally got the words out. “I help anyone I can, it’s what I do,” he added with a thin, strained smile. Sure he did. Sometimes helping meant being an assassin. Funny how that worked. He wasn’t interested in indulging too much information about himself though, it felt too… dangerous.
“You live around here?”
Watching the other change body language, Saima picks up on the discomfort that is felt. They can’t help but find this whole encounter morbidly entertaining, fascinating even. Although chances if they mention that, it would set off the man even more. What a pity. Some of these types were always too self-serious, not surprising but boring nonetheless.
They idly rock on their heels for a moment before glancing back at him. “Hm. Well, it’s still nice of you to offer. Nothing wrong with being helpful when you can.” They were a believer in that as well – and chances are would be assisting the same people that had been recently ‘converted’.
When asked about their origins, they give a bit of a shrug. “I tend to be in the area regularly. I stay on the move but… I come here from time to time. Mostly ‘live’ in the forests.”
Some days the only thing that kept Atlas going was his own belief in himself. He would visit the museums and look at the status of himself just to make sure that he was still alive after all. Just to remind himself that at one point someone had believed in him.
That particular day was no different, this time it was a little less crowded and Atlas found himself in front of series of status. He chuckled shaking his head and turning to Saima. “Can you believe they once used to build palaces for us, now all we have left is half a statue that isn’t even correct.”
Surviving in this new world was always a strange situation. For someone who had been used to some kind of status, carving a new means of existence and presence had been an adventure. Often a winding and always uncertain kind of deal, but it was a journey nonetheless.
Perhaps that’s why they liked hanging out in museums, in a way of reminding themselves of how much has changed. Or at least getting back in touch with the memories they held on to still. Glancing back at Atlas, they gave a little sigh tinged with laughter.
“It’s wild how so much can be lost over the years. Sometimes, it’s a wonder that there are even little statues left. The whole deal feels absurd, even.“
Léa slowly nodded. “Well, not just mine,” she then corrected, glancing around at the other gravestones. “But in the simplest sense, yes, I suppose.” Still unsure of who she was dealing with, she said nothing more specific. She stepped closer, dress hem whispering against the knots of moss in the grass.
“Have you come here before? Perhaps you come often, and we’ve just never met? If so, I hope I didn’t disturb you. It can be wonderfully peaceful at times…”
Too curious for her own good, she couldn’t help continuing to assess them. They certainly weren’t human, but they didn’t feeling like a threatening presence. So she smiled. “I’m
Léa.”
“Ah I see.“ It was clearly a place where a few had been laid to rest. This was the first time Saima had seen one of the previous inhabitants in this area. They were curious about the approaching figure and maintained a calm air, if only to appear sociable. If nothing else, staying at ease may help in this interaction.
“I’ve stopped by here a few times before. It seems like I just hadn’t run into you before.“ Saima returns a small smile of their own. “Nice to meet you Lea, I go by Saima. And you didn’t disturb me at all, I just didn’t want to be intruding on your space and had been willing to go it you wanted me to.“
Seekesotsibteadmist 