09-10-2023, 11:30 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-10-2023, 11:34 PM by Poseidon. Edited 1 time in total.)
Poseidon had been working for weeks on this project. It was a delicate matter, and something he had hidden from his packmates, largely for fear that it straight up would not work.
Every time anything bad had happened to him, or he was feeling lonely, or reminiscing, or... well really on every occasion, the once-god had wanted a beverage. He had named an entire beach after mojitos with loving irony. He remembered sitting on that beach, wishing he could order a cocktail in a fancy glass, the kind with the tiny pointless umbrellas and a pineapple wedge.
While walking through this grove some weeks ago, Poseidon had found a large number of wasps wandering about the bushes. Wondering if they had found some tasty hunk of dead thing, he followed. To his surprise, it was a deep-coloured grape that they were after. The fruit was so ripe that it was falling freely from the vine, and that had sparked an idea. Why not make some wine?
The problem was that he for the life of him could not remember how to make wine. This felt weird, considering his nephew Dionysus had shown him the technique to do so ages ago. All he could recall was that it contained grapes, and that said grapes needed to... sit?
This had prompted the strange behaviour of a wolf, gathering full bushels of grapes, and tossing them into a pit. This seemed correct? It was infuriating. He remembered that he knew, but he didn't remember what he was supposed to know. Was there some spell on his mind?
Fast forward to weeks later, when Poseidon was doing a diligent check on his pit of grapes to see if they had turned to wine. What he found was not wine but, as one might expect, rotten fruit that was so full of attacking wasps, flies, and various animal tracks that he just stood there in angry disbelief.
“RAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH” The shout was so loud, both bird and bee fled before the mighty Poseidon, who, enraged and defeated, slumped into despair on the ground.
the staff team luvs u
Every time anything bad had happened to him, or he was feeling lonely, or reminiscing, or... well really on every occasion, the once-god had wanted a beverage. He had named an entire beach after mojitos with loving irony. He remembered sitting on that beach, wishing he could order a cocktail in a fancy glass, the kind with the tiny pointless umbrellas and a pineapple wedge.
While walking through this grove some weeks ago, Poseidon had found a large number of wasps wandering about the bushes. Wondering if they had found some tasty hunk of dead thing, he followed. To his surprise, it was a deep-coloured grape that they were after. The fruit was so ripe that it was falling freely from the vine, and that had sparked an idea. Why not make some wine?
The problem was that he for the life of him could not remember how to make wine. This felt weird, considering his nephew Dionysus had shown him the technique to do so ages ago. All he could recall was that it contained grapes, and that said grapes needed to... sit?
This had prompted the strange behaviour of a wolf, gathering full bushels of grapes, and tossing them into a pit. This seemed correct? It was infuriating. He remembered that he knew, but he didn't remember what he was supposed to know. Was there some spell on his mind?
Fast forward to weeks later, when Poseidon was doing a diligent check on his pit of grapes to see if they had turned to wine. What he found was not wine but, as one might expect, rotten fruit that was so full of attacking wasps, flies, and various animal tracks that he just stood there in angry disbelief.
“RAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH” The shout was so loud, both bird and bee fled before the mighty Poseidon, who, enraged and defeated, slumped into despair on the ground.
the staff team luvs u