Just because I thought it was time I finally got a new post up darn it!
Besides, the ferrets are bored. . . .Behold my new Troy fic.
MEAT MEDALIONS
It was strange to think that it was still possible to hear the sound of the waves rolling against the shores and have them make the same sounds they did before the Greeks had taken over the beaches some ten years before. It was like the gods were playing tricks on his ears and plucking at the parts of his soul that wanted nothing more than a return to a normal life.
Today, just like yesterday, Prince Hector would lead the men of Troy out onto the plains leading up to the walled citadel and drive the Greeks back into the water and off to their homelands where they could spend the rest of their lives killing one another over olives and goats. Yes, that would be nice, Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones thought to himself. If the Trojans were lucky, this would be another day where the so-called great Achillies would stay back at the Greek camp with the women and sulk.
Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones was not overly concerned with the activities of that particular day. All he wanted to do was get out there and get back into the city. His mother was fixing his favorite dish for dinner, and he did not want to be too wounded or too dead to not enjoy it. Damn those rotten smelly Greeks anyway. They sure could make a trip to the beach a real testy affair. Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones remembered during the last truce that was declared so everyone could fetch the bodies of their dead that he was certain a clause had been added to it saying that anyone could go down to the beach. It was co-ed naked volleyball season for crying out loud! And there was no real way of simulating that kind of experience within the thick walls of a city! Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones and his friends had taken everything they needed for a great beach shindig down that way only to have some nasty bunch of smelly Greeks and their attack goats tell them to turn around and leave. Not even an invitation for some lukewarm wine and a round of volleyball could sway them. Oh, Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones was jonesing to go to the beach. In fact, that was about all he could think about these days.
It was early enough in the day, the sun had not peaked it's yellow rays over the eastern horizon when Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones was rousted out of bed and helped into his armor. He didn't mind being a soldier, really, accept for that nasty killing part. It was like playing war when he was a little kid, but way cooler! His sword was real and the blood he spilled was nothing like attacking some stupid straw dummy or beating up your best buddy with a stick. Maybe today was the day Hector would decide they could go and totally destroy the Greek camp and then declare a half-holiday and let everybody go to the beach. There could be bonfires and maybe even his mom would bring him his dinner. . . .
"Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones, have you asked the gods for their help today?" His friend Drolon asked him.
"No, but I did ask Posiedon if we could finally—"
"Go to the beach?" Drolon rolled his eyes before bending over to check and see that his left sandal was still tied. It had a nasty habit of coming undone. That was the sort of thing out on the field that could get a soldier killed. "Haven't you figured it out yet that we ain't goin' to no beach."
"I asked nice." Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones said. "Besides with all of the grief they've been dealing us from Ida, you'd think they would give us a day off."
"Just get yo crazy ass ready to do some fightin'." Drolon popped his knuckles. He was ready to go out and kill him some Greeks. And if he was very lucky, he could take out the one and only Prince Paris at the same time. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were talking about some woman."
Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones smiled. He drew a small pouch tied around his neck from beneath his breast plate and gave it a gentle kiss.
"Oh hell no! I did not just see you kiss that thing!" Drolon exclaimed.
"It's good luck."
"It's your Momma's cooking." He made a sour face.
Voices of the men in charge boomed from the front of the army. Hector was leading them through the gates for another day's battle against the scourge infesting the coastline. Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones took a deep breath. He was ready to fight.
MEAT MEDALIONS
It was strange to think that it was still possible to hear the sound of the waves rolling against the shores and have them make the same sounds they did before the Greeks had taken over the beaches some ten years before. It was like the gods were playing tricks on his ears and plucking at the parts of his soul that wanted nothing more than a return to a normal life.
Today, just like yesterday, Prince Hector would lead the men of Troy out onto the plains leading up to the walled citadel and drive the Greeks back into the water and off to their homelands where they could spend the rest of their lives killing one another over olives and goats. Yes, that would be nice, Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones thought to himself. If the Trojans were lucky, this would be another day where the so-called great Achillies would stay back at the Greek camp with the women and sulk.
Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones was not overly concerned with the activities of that particular day. All he wanted to do was get out there and get back into the city. His mother was fixing his favorite dish for dinner, and he did not want to be too wounded or too dead to not enjoy it. Damn those rotten smelly Greeks anyway. They sure could make a trip to the beach a real testy affair. Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones remembered during the last truce that was declared so everyone could fetch the bodies of their dead that he was certain a clause had been added to it saying that anyone could go down to the beach. It was co-ed naked volleyball season for crying out loud! And there was no real way of simulating that kind of experience within the thick walls of a city! Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones and his friends had taken everything they needed for a great beach shindig down that way only to have some nasty bunch of smelly Greeks and their attack goats tell them to turn around and leave. Not even an invitation for some lukewarm wine and a round of volleyball could sway them. Oh, Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones was jonesing to go to the beach. In fact, that was about all he could think about these days.
It was early enough in the day, the sun had not peaked it's yellow rays over the eastern horizon when Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones was rousted out of bed and helped into his armor. He didn't mind being a soldier, really, accept for that nasty killing part. It was like playing war when he was a little kid, but way cooler! His sword was real and the blood he spilled was nothing like attacking some stupid straw dummy or beating up your best buddy with a stick. Maybe today was the day Hector would decide they could go and totally destroy the Greek camp and then declare a half-holiday and let everybody go to the beach. There could be bonfires and maybe even his mom would bring him his dinner. . . .
"Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones, have you asked the gods for their help today?" His friend Drolon asked him.
"No, but I did ask Posiedon if we could finally—"
"Go to the beach?" Drolon rolled his eyes before bending over to check and see that his left sandal was still tied. It had a nasty habit of coming undone. That was the sort of thing out on the field that could get a soldier killed. "Haven't you figured it out yet that we ain't goin' to no beach."
"I asked nice." Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones said. "Besides with all of the grief they've been dealing us from Ida, you'd think they would give us a day off."
"Just get yo crazy ass ready to do some fightin'." Drolon popped his knuckles. He was ready to go out and kill him some Greeks. And if he was very lucky, he could take out the one and only Prince Paris at the same time. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were talking about some woman."
Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones smiled. He drew a small pouch tied around his neck from beneath his breast plate and gave it a gentle kiss.
"Oh hell no! I did not just see you kiss that thing!" Drolon exclaimed.
"It's good luck."
"It's your Momma's cooking." He made a sour face.
Voices of the men in charge boomed from the front of the army. Hector was leading them through the gates for another day's battle against the scourge infesting the coastline. Polymegalonicesdorus-Jones took a deep breath. He was ready to fight.