31 - A God, Recovering

Lin

I chose to recover over a concert.

If you haven't checked the blog already, I put up the 30.5 entry to clarify the situation.

Even so, I do feel like I haven't quite explained godly territory enough.

It has a lot of facets to it, to put it that way.

But because my hallmark is still on Greenwich, I can contest nopeman's (Rickmansworth's) ownership over the area.

But I'll have to recover enough and have enough people to back me up first. Greenwich is not Highgate or Angel. I'll need physical allies, probably mostly family.

I looked through some of Nostradamus' prophecies again to see if there was anything that might suggest that I will win, but now that I think about it, a lot of that 'future' Nostradamus saw was likely dictated by nopeman or somebody else like one eye, who would have gotten the fake norns to do it.

Essentially, it means that it can not only be changed, but also that there is the potential for multiple events that were actually really important to have been hidden, which would change perception of the entire course of time.

There's a reason that it was my job to take care of that, as opposed to anyone else.

Now, I won't say that I never made any mistakes whilst crafting time, but I always tried to do what was best for everyone involved.

The usurpers have never had such noble intentions.

As I listen to the rain outside, I realise just how much my life had ridden on the expectations and rules of other people, and just how entitled they felt to breaking boundaries I set, as well as setting boundaries for me.

They took my territory, my powers, my life and my choices away from me. 

It won't happen again.

Now, I'm not perfect, but I can say with clear conscience that none of what I did warranted the treatment I experienced over these past fifty-five billion years.

It may seem insane to say, but the Sim is old.

Those of us who have been here for long enough know the drill, and this war has been going on for longer than most of the souls here have existed, let alone been here.

Unfortunately, what was supposed to be a healing sanctuary turned into a war zone.

And now I'm having to pick up the pieces left behind.

When I'm in enough shape to face all this, I'll change everything on this Sim.

And I mean everything.

Nothing and no one will stop me.

As I think this, a small bronze pin, along with a bastard sword, appears on the altar in my nemeton.

Upon closer inspection, the pin is in the shape of a head of corn.

Olly, I swear to the Gods.

Mar plij, we both know you love me.

Internet, this is my younger brother, Olly.

You're welcome.

I'm surprised you didn't turn up sooner.

Maintenance Lin, maintenance.

Fair enough.

You're thinking of taking Greenwich, are you?

Of course, but I need time to plan it right, and I can't go there myself right now.

Very wise of you. I have eyes and ears in the area. You want me to check it out?

Mar plij. I'll send some offerings your way.

No need.

Yes there is, you're almost as depleted as our aunt was when all this began. Besides, I know you're barely living off Maman and Da, and their offerings are minimal as it is. Besides, I'm also Medusa, so I get the most offerings of all of us anyway.

I hate to say it, but you have a point.

I put a silver dagger adorned with amethysts and a brass timepiece on the offering altar.

Keep yourself safe, mat eo din?

The offerings disappear.

I will, Tavi.

Alright. I'll see you soon.

Kenavo.

I sigh, and smile.

Nice to see you, brother.