mythmaking | (no subject)

[It's a cloudy mid-morning on THURSDAY, JANUARY 9, and the town is bustling as always. Many people are quite excited about the second batch of new arrivals; though they're not getting quite the celebration the first round got, they still might find themselves being greeted by bizarrely friendly folk.

Out of place is a number of geese scattered around town, each with their own little messenger bag packed full of rolled up parchment. They're putting the papers up all over, on fence posts and market stalls and storefronts, even stuffing them into mailboxes and leaving them on benches. Each paper is nearly identical, with large, blocky font and the occasional inky feather mark.

LOST
SEVERAL ITEMS OF GREAT IMPORT

SOMEONE HAS STOLEN FROM OUR HOMES THE FOLLOWING THINGS

ONE GOOSE-SIZED NIGHT CAP
THREE TEACUPS (PINK AND YELLOW FISH PRINT)
EXACTLY SEVEN AND A QUARTER LEFT SOCKS
AN APPLE CRUMBLE

IF FOUND PLEASE CONTACT
ADELICIA VON FARTHINGTON (THE FIFTH)
AT THE NORTH BANK OF THE LAKE

If stopped, the geese will be more than happy to talk at great length about how terrible this all is. Strangely, there appear to be a few other people and animals poking around as though looking for something, or acting a bit sullen for such an otherwise joyful day.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I only have-- [ But before he can properly argue, he catches himself, and quickly covers his new, more prominent droopy ears. ] Shut up.

Geese don't drink. Not even in fairy tales.

[ An interesting reaction... ]

Will you not allow them? They are sacred, you know, to Aphrodite, and sacred animals must be given the pleasures of life.

That'd mean like every animal gets something. There's lots of gods, you know. [ An indignant huff. Which might look kind of funny because he's still covering his ears, so can you really take him seriously? ]

Are you jealous, then? [ Of the geese. ]

Wh- what? No. Never. Why would I be? [ Weh frowning. ]

You wish for the same honor to be given to your kind! [ Can't quite tell what he is. ] So you will not let the geese have their fun if you are not allowed yours.

I didn't say anything like that. And what do you mean 'my kind'...

Words between your words are what I speak of. Now, what do you call yourself?

[ He grumbles. Considers ignoring the question. But ah, that'd be too rude, even for him... ]

Iceland.

There is a species with that name? [ That seems awfully confusing, but there have been worse names. Anyway, he's never heard of human-like beasts coming from the northern lands past the 11th century. ] Where I am from, there is land with that title.

Yeah, that's me. [ Or so he assumes. How many Icelands could there be?! ] I'm not a species though, just a country...

[ "Just." ]

[ Ah, this must be another patriot. ] You should not sell yourself short. To be one with a country is a grand deed, even one so far out of sight. Where would Europe get her beloved fish otherwise? [ That is all he knows about Iceland... ]

No, no. I simply did not realize those northerners were commonly found with horns not attached to a helmet.

[ To be fair it's all anyone knows about Iceland, pre-Eyjafjallajokull. ]

It's not common. We never wore those horned helmets, they're too impractical.

[ Having put his hands down not long ago- his ears were getting smushed - he lifts them again to muss his hair over his little horny nubs. Or tries to, anyway. They're still a bit too big to cover completely. ]

Stop looking.

[ Pointedly does not stop looking. ] You're ashamed of yourself? Oh, because they have not yet grown into an adult size.

[ If Iceland's proverbial feathers weren't ruffled before, they are now. ] I am an adult! This just isn't normal! So stop looking!!

[ A sign of weakness!! ] That is the issue, isn't it? You've outgrown them. Is it a disease?

No! [ The goat ears droop, then point back- Iceland never would have expected them to be expressive for him. Then again, he's not paying attention to them right now. ]

[ That's kind of weird, but how authentic. ] So a runt! Of what litter? A satyr?

[ Backing away, just a bit, as he's starting to feel boxed in. ] No. This didn't happen until I got here! I'm normal!

[ Oh. How disappointing. He looks vastly less interested now. ] Then you have been given the role... of an animal? Are you to transform?

I hope not. This is bad enough already.

Will you give me the name written on your book, then?

What's it matter to you?

[ How difficult. ] I am curious as to what animal has been given a story.

[ Mumbling: ] Goat.

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