<blockquote class="bbCodeBlock bbCodeBlock--expandable bbCodeBlock--quote js-expandWatch" data-attributes="member: 5411" data-quote="Chartreux" data-source="post: 320186">
<div class="bbCodeBlock-title">
<a class="bbCodeBlock-sourceJump" data-content-selector="#post-320186" data-xf-click="attribution" href="/goto/post?id=320186" rel="nofollow">Chartreux said:</a>
</div>
<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">
<div class="bbCodeBlock-expandContent js-expandContent">
<b><span style="font-size: 18px">The Weaver and the Maid</span></b><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<div class="bbImageWrapper lazyload js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2Fpbs.twimg.com%2Fmedia%2FEL1yjrCW4AACgBo.jpg&amp;hash=326cc13b1ff3ac87668ef0d7fff870ec" title="EL1yjrCW4AACgBo.jpg">
<img alt="EL1yjrCW4AACgBo.jpg" class="bbImage lazyload" data-src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2Fpbs.twimg.com%2Fmedia%2FEL1yjrCW4AACgBo.jpg&amp;hash=326cc13b1ff3ac87668ef0d7fff870ec" data-url="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EL1yjrCW4AACgBo.jpg" data-zoom-target="1" height="" src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" style="" title="" width=""/>
<noscript><img alt="EL1yjrCW4AACgBo.jpg" class="bbImage" data-url="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EL1yjrCW4AACgBo.jpg" data-zoom-target="1" height="" src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2Fpbs.twimg.com%2Fmedia%2FEL1yjrCW4AACgBo.jpg&amp;hash=326cc13b1ff3ac87668ef0d7fff870ec" style="" title="" width=""/></noscript>
</div>
<br/>
<span style="font-size: 15px"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(255, 102, 255)"><a class="username" data-user-id="8147" data-username="Finnrin" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/8147/">Finnrin</a> </span><br/>
<br/>
Dion loved happy endings, while they lasted. Between the Olympians and the mortals, he believed that there were some ‘happy endings’ that should be commemorated before time ran its course and the mortal soul traveled down to Hades’ realm, to merely exist or be punished, or rewarded. Aye, when the ‘happy ending’ was done, the life of the mortal might yet turn their soul away from the Elysian Fields. The Gods would then go about their various offices and the attached responsibilities, never forgetting but sealing those memories away like a book in a vast library to be exhumed if occasion ever came that the memory could be useful. Even commemorated, time would have its way and the memento fall to ruin. But Dion loved them, while they lasted.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
That was why Athena had set up her loom in an illuminated corner, while the rest of Lounge was dimmed. Mnemosyne was at her side. The titan had visited all the Gods and the mortals that had been present that night that the Muse of Comedy first brought a mortal to the Lounge stage. The mortal was a man of average height and some very noticeable girth…, which the honest mortal would have pointed out as being ‘fat’. Still, it was all so unexpected, the Fates slipping him in through the door, unnoticed. The man meeting and impressing Thalia. Thalia demanding Dion put the man on the stage. The man nearly bringing the Lounge down around everyone’s ears by making Gods laugh. The escape from the stage by the comedian and the muse for a lover’s tryst. Dion had commissioned his sister to create the tapestry.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
There was no contest of skills involved and no limit of time. Athena could do the work as she felt best, turning memories into something that would become priceless art. Central to the tapestry would be the mortal, speaking into a microphone and looking at a goddess in his audience with adoration, while the goddess looked at the mortal with impossibly equal adoration. Surrounding the central figures would be the various Gods (including Dion) and mortals that had been in attendance that night, all laughing and transported into a state of joy by the mortal’s performance. A photograph could have captured the images. It could not have shown the joy and the love.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
As Athena worked with thoughtful ease, Dion brought over a bottle of Debina. All of Dion’s wines were spectacular, but Dion had served the mortal Debina. The white wine seemed like a good choice to offer to his sister, under the circumstances.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
“How goes the work?” asked the god of wine and madness, looking elegant in the black and white he favored in his guise as a simple bartender.<br/>
<br/>
His sister, dressed in clothes wine red in color, her golden brown hair in lovely curls, her face intelligent and beautiful answered, </span>“It will be everything you wished for and more."
		</div>
<div class="bbCodeBlock-expandLink js-expandLink"><a role="button" tabindex="0">Click to expand...</a></div>
</div>
</blockquote><br/>Cora Allen was a collage student of the academy of art university in San Francisco. Majoring music prediction and engineering. When she had down time, she would roamed around looking for a new venue. Music was her passion and she wanted to listen to everything.  Though one genres of music has her heart. But for now she could listen to anything. Though in her ear was a bud. Playing her genre. She roamed the hot spots, the pop ups, street performers, the random homeless person. Anything that sounded good or that was worth staying. After heading down a few new roads, She went down on e that was mostly clear, but she could hear music coming from somewhere.<br/><br/>As she head deeper, it got louder. She soon came too a dark green building.  She reached; taking the handle the door  before ducking inside. Walking into a  pretty nice restaurant. So welcoming, so lively.  A place you can have fun getting lost in. She she really like the smells. But the music had her first. She kept following it to some stairs, practically running down the flight.  She then found them leading her to some layback lounge.  First time she's been to one of these. They were playing jazz. But it was pretty good. She could listen to something a little faster and less elevator smooth.  She also felt a little out of place. She started to retract back in her shell a little.  She moved a little faster to find a bar. and a place to blend in. Aa she walked though she couldn't help but feel like everyone in this building was fuggin<b>beautiful</b>.<br/><br/>Ah she got close to a bar she noticed a woman in a corner. Who was beyond any other woman. Working on a  tapestry? It was a little weird but pretty intriguing.  She wanted to move closer so she could get a better look of it. When she caught a glimpse she could help but stair from how magnificent it look. She didn't know much about tapestries. But it looked like something that would be deemed priceless. Between the tapestry and the one who crafts it, she didn't know which was more breathtaking. So her eyes would shift between the woman and her art.