msg_ina_bottle: (i'm a fighting kid)
4. Scenarios: Your character is approached/attacked/confronted/etc…by one of the following things/people in one of the following settings. Write a fic based on this.

H. A relative, at a family dinner.

Greek family dinners? More like drunken adolescent shenanigans, and sadly the sons of Zeus were only ever encouraged by their father. It might should have, then, been little surprise that when Ares tackled Hermes, and hit him hard enough to bloody the messenger’s nose that the only thing Zeus said was?

“Well…Hit him back.”

Hit him back? Dude was the God of War!! How was he even going to dream of winning.

“Ow…” He pouted, beating his eyes at Ares as he wiggled a little trying to get away. But then Ares was raising his fist again and the clever messenger just blurted it out, “NO! Please don’t hit me!!”

And Ares stopped. And blinked. And told Hermes to stop being such a baby before he turned and walked away.

HA…take that stupid war god.


Greek Myth
word count: 135
msg_ina_bottle: (my feelings are hurt here)
When stars collide like you and I,
No shadows block the sun.


I could love her better than anyone, I think. But I’m not a lover, I’m not a fighter. The truth is I cannot even promise her forever, I can’t promise her tomorrow. But when we are together?

It doesn’t rain, the clouds melt away. Bliss, completely and truthfully, and always. A smile that even the sun pales against, eyes that sparkle like the rarest of diamonds. If someone were to shatter her heart, the world would bleed for her. Rivers flood with her tears.

I would bleed for her…

If only I were a better man, a better creature to give her everything her heart could demand. I would, forever and always. Devoted, helplessly adoring…

Only to find something else has stolen my interest as always. Better to love in longing, than to forget with regret…

I’ll just save her smiles for rainy days.
msg_ina_bottle: (can't breathe)
Have you ever made someone worship you, adore you or believe you were the center of the universe? How did you do it, and why?

She was my angel. She didn’t really know it, I don’t think, not as well as she thought. Every time I saw her everything stopped. I worshipped her with my kindness, with charm and wit. And she lavished upon me…

She worshipped me as a friend, confidant and everything you would expect of someone hopelessly devoted to you…

But always one step away.

Why, you ask? Why would I do it? Because…rational thought isn’t always at the forefront of the mind. She adored me because I was adorable, and I never let her believe otherwise. But I took advantage of her. I took advantage of his absence, and when he came back…well…

I’m always second best. But I did it to myself, didn’t I?

Should have known better.


Greek Mythology
word count: 128
msg_ina_bottle: (such a bummer)
George W. Bush, on democracy: If this were a dictatorship, it would be a heck of a lot easier - so long as I'm the dictator.

Hail to the Chief we have chosen for the nation,
Hail to the Chief! We salute him, one and all.
Hail to the Chief, as we pledge cooperation
In proud fulfillment of a great, noble call.

Oh, yes… Hail him, yeah…

See the thing about Bush isn’t that he is a bad guy, oh no. I bet he’s a one of a kind the only clone of his father. The thing is, though, he’s kinda dumb. In that…seriously lacking common sense sort of way.

There was this video on ‘You-tube’ a while back? Really sort of sums it all up! Ok, before it all starts. I’m a god, and I like to surf the net. Got a problem with that? I mean, who would want that guy to be a dictator?

For that matter, what a bogus statement. Of course it would be better/easier/happier if he was a dictator, then he could do whatever the hell he wanted without the waiting issue. Say bye, bye to Axis of Evil, and total reinvention of the Atom Bomb.

Ares would be so happy. They were made for each other have the same intelligence level too.


Greek Mythology
word count: 157


Dec. 24th, 2007 01:14 pm
msg_ina_bottle: (uh yeah ok)
After drinking a few too many eggnogs at your annual holiday party, you wake up the next morning realizing you did some things you now regret. Write an e-mail, a letter or a card to the people you need to apologize to.

“Dear Hera,”

Backspace, backspace, backspace, backspace.

“Dear Step-Mother…”

Nope, highlight-delete.

“Your Royalness…”


“Your Most Beautiful Royal pain in the ass Highness,”

Ah, there.

“I regret to inform you, that in the last night some misfortune fell...”

Or Came? ‘Misfortune came’ hrm.


“upon your garden. I am quite certain that this jolly fellow by the name of ‘Santa Clause’ was to blame for it.”

Note to self: add reindeer hoof prints to the dirt.

“I noticed it late last night, as he was trying to break in and raising such a clatter. I tired to scare him off with a vintage World War II French Rifle (dropped once, never been fired) that I purchased for Ares for the holidays…”

Too over the top?

Eh, details might distract.

“The sleigh then slipped from the roof, laden with gift (and what looked to be a quite large set of Anvils for Limp-dick Heph), and crashed right into your newest sculpture! Feeling it my utmost duty, I charged out to accost the portly man only to be attacked by unfriendly beast of the Northern Wilds! (I blame Loki, I am certain he was the one that gave them to the Jolly, fat Elf.)”

Hmmm, what else…

Oh, right the window.

“And then the sculpture feel, and crashed into your windows and I nearly died of a fright! I rather think it a mercy you were not home, to save you from the horrors of the whole night, but as a messenger of Zeus, I feel it is my duty to inform you of the terrible state to which you might return.

With sincerest apologizes,



Greek Mythology
word count: 273
msg_ina_bottle: (ok you caught me)
You’ve been asked to give a live demonstration to a large audience, showing your skill and giving instruction on something that you do better than most people. The spotlight is on you. Now do it.

So everyone here wants to know what it means to be the great Hermes, yeah? Here’s the deal folks…

You can’ be me. I am immortal, handsome, youthful, and faster than a thought. By the time you blink your eyes I can go around the world once, and never be seen. I’m faster than light, and trust me…that is a scary thing.

But I do have a few tricks I’m willing to part with. One is a this…

The best lie is mostly truth.

Such as, if someone where to ask why you didn’t know something, or tell them something they consider important? A simple statement of “Sorry, I’m blond” works wonders. Especially if your hair really is blonde.

If someone ask, “Why is the four and not five?”

Well, I don’t…”why is the sky blue and the grass green?”

Mostly, people, words can be manipulated to mean anything. Seriously, I’m a master of saying one thing, meaning the other. And in the round about way, being a royal dick about it. It is fun…

Words, essentially, are an arbitrary manner of communications. Which leads me to my second trick…

Body Language.

Your face is a book of lies. Whatever comes out of your mouth, unless the whole truth, is often contradictory to expression. So practice. Practice in the mirror by introducing yourself as Sam, or Wyatt. Tell yourself your eyes are brown instead of blue. Be not afraid to create something inanely opposite to yourself…

But remember, keep at least half of it true.

Lastly, Truth is often stranger than fiction. This is a well documented fact. If the truth itself is unbelievable, I always suggest sticking with it. After all, if they don’t believe that? They bloody fools anyway.

And that, my friends, is the truth of it.
msg_ina_bottle: (Read my smirk)
She put the lime coconut, drank them both up

That was the great thing about tiki-bars. The music, the atmosphere, and the karaoke. Now Hermes wasn’t normally a karaoke type but this was just what he needed. A chance to be drunk and crazy.

He bounced a little as he someone picked out the notes to Harry Nilsson’s ‘Coconut’, and he hummed as he danced on the sandy, make-shift stage with his coconut bra, and grass skirt. He bounced his head, and twisted about and around and twirled. He liked the twirl; that was by far the best part of his day.

Brother bought a coconut, he bought it for a dime-
His sister had another one, she paid it for the lime…

He giggled as he bounced, singing loudly at the top of his lungs as he pointed to several people, loving the attention he was getting from every direction.

After the song was over, though, he had a bit more attention than he wanted.

“Excuse me,” a strong, manly voice said behind him, “but can I see an ID?”

“Coconut?” Hermes asked turning around to look drunkingly at the officially looking guy.


“I put the lime in the coconut and drank’m both up…”

The man didn’t look too impressed. In fact, he rather looked pissed off. “Where are your parents?”

“He put the Lim—“

“KID! Sing that one more time and You are going to be knocked upside the head!”

“..., Ooookay. You are taking—Nevermind, PEACE!” He hiccupped once before taking his coconut drink and ran. Like the cop could catch him, he was the bloody Greek, Ginger bread man.


Greek Mythology
word count: 266


msg_ina_bottle: (Default)

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