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fightevilandthengetblownup · 3 years

Text

FIC: Pink Moon Rising

Notes: Erzulie - Gina Torres Agwe - Gary Dourdan Ogoun - Jimmy-Jean Louis Damballah - Elvis Nolasco Baron - Mustafa Shakir Maman Bridgette - Saorise Ronan Filomez - Logan Browning Ti Malice - John Boyega Papa Legba - Sydney Poitier Anaisa Pye - Danai Gurira

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Jo knew the moment that the letter box had a raised signal that there was something peculiar going on at that point.

They rarely got mail - most post going to the bar and she or Grey would pick most up whenever they went by to either do work or visit Harry, sometimes the researcher would bring any post with him for a movie night instead - and usually only ever junk mail and not worthy of the flag going up.

She wrapped Nana’s leash around her wrist a few times as the dog pulled and tugged impatient to go inside and have some water, and flipping the mail box open; Jo frowned at the light pink envelope with something written harshly in jagged lettering in red on one side and some design on the other. Picking it up and finally heading inside and unclipping the dog as she went running down the hall towards the kitchen and her water bowl, Jo flipped the letter back and forth over her wrist as she walked after at a slower pace.

“What you got there, Jo?” Grey’s voice pulled her out of her pondering, the flipping stopping after a moment as she moved around to press a quick kiss to the back of his neck on her way past to grab a juice out of the fridge.

“Letter.”

“Oh? Did Harry come around?”

“Nah, it was in the letter box.”

“We got a letter in the letter box?”

“I did.” She replied as she moved to sit down at the kitchen table, flipping the envelope upwards to face her - taking in her name clearly but jaggedly written across the front in the dark reddish brown ink, with a few dots bled across the front. Running her finger over her name, Jo lifted her finger to her nose before pulling a face realizing it hadn’t been ink at all. Perturbed, she flipped the letter back over and sucked in a breath at the delicate design all the same dark red - blood, not ink, as she’d identified - with two waves curling opposite each other, forming a heart alongside the soft swirls and the biblical-like crosses stabbing through the center of it. A design Jo was used to drawing on a rundown floor in dust or carving into a candle. “Oh.”

“You got a letter? Here?” Grey’s voice was tinged with worry from what she could hear, finger still running gently over the design and not yet daring to break the seal. “Who’s it from then?”

“A.. friend, I hope.” She muttered the last words as quietly as possible, a tiny frown on her face before sliding a finger under the envelope tongue and slowly tearing it open.

Pulling the single card out from inside, Jo let out an unexpected laugh at the design on the front - a soft pink moon with three circles underneath it all in a soft shimmering card stock - and the swirly lettering stating ‘You’re Invited!’ written across it. Opening the card itself, there was a date, time and address as well as three little crosses in the bottom corner all in the same not-ink writing as the envelope.

“What is it, Jo?” Jo jerked a bit at the hand on her shoulder as the shadow came over to look, a concerned look on his face that she’s sure came from her laughter and the peculiarity of it altogether.

“It’s an invitation, hun. I’ve got a… party to go to, maybe.”

—

Jo let out a quiet sigh to herself as she actually found herself out front of the building compound listed at the address on St Charles Avenue. It was definitely not somewhere she would usually be found, but as she had gotten out of her car and walked up the block towards the place, she found herself glad that she’d decided to wear something nice as she looked up at the ornate doorway of the exquisite old building. It helped the layered yellow dress she’d gotten the previous year and the jeweled sandals matched with it so well but both allowed her comfort while looking in keeping with the sophistication of the event. It also helped that the skirt of her dress was flowy enough to allow a pair of thin bike shorts underneath that likewise let her wear two thigh holsters for a pair of knives, just in case - she had been invited after all, but she wasn’t completely foolish.

Stepping through the wrought iron gates of the external courtyard from the street into the space, Jo blinked in confusion as the sounds of the traffic outside disappeared and were replaced with the sweet sounds of birdsong and the soft sound of music echoing out from the doors of the building. The whole place felt peaceful yet joyful all at once, and something settled sharply in her stomach to be on guard against giving in to that feeling. She’d been tricked once before from it, and she wouldn’t give in again so quickly.

Moving along the path and up the old stone steps up to historic mansion - it's columns white and gleaming, with the white wrought iron spandrels and fretwork like beautiful spiderwebs spreading from one pole to the next over the wide porch as she made her way up. The wood didn't even groan under foot despite clearly being aged and worn in, lived in and welcoming to many, many guests over the years. The front door was intricately carved wood with brightly colored glass shards cut into the design like jewels. It all made a very beautiful and awe-inspiring visage, and as Jo lifted a hand to the elegant door knocker she half expected to be shooed off as an interloper, someone clearly not suited for such a place even with her designer dress and pretty shoes from someone who likely would fit in in such elegant surroundings.

There was an extremely tall man that opened the door, his face set in a firm but bland expression. "Invitation?"

"Oh, uh. Here?"

"Hmmm, Harvelle-" The man frowned for a moment and looked carefully at the invitation she'd handed over with a slight bit of trepidation and then pulled up a clipboard to review. There was a moment before he stepped back and to the side, door opening wider and a hand waving her in in greeting. "Welcome Ms. Harvelle. You'll find the party in the inner courtyard, and all gifts are to be presented when requested."

"Gifts?" Jo asked, confusion rife as she moved through the door and craned her neck up at the man as if he'd have an answer, before frowning in confusion as the welcoming smile slid off of his face and was replaced with the same bland look as before. His eyes looked glazed over though and unfocused as he took a step back to stand beside the door and almost blended into the shadows. Blinking a few times as they watered trying to keep his stare and catch his eye contact, she rubbed at her eyes a little before nervously making her way further into the grand house.

The floor felt strange underfoot, and glancing down, she was surprised to see the entire floor was covered in a thick layer of rose petals from the lightest whites to the deepest, darkest reds and all the shades in between. They were thick enough to coat the entire surface and the scent of roses came forth with each step but was somehow suitably subtle and delicate to the flowers themselves. The grandeur of the place was beyond anywhere Jo was used to visiting - art covered the walls of the entry foyer and then the hallway she slowly made her way into, and there were antiques in the Spanish, French and English styles as well as some clearly even more ancient designs that echoed the beadwork and colorful nature of Africa that somehow stood out even more in beauty against the other flourishes. Moving along the hall, turning left when she got through the first set of doors out of habit and then following the turn of the hall to the right - Jo stared in wonder at the light filtering through the next array of stained glass windows and double doors that opened into the inner courtyard where she could hear noise and see the shadows of figures moving around.

The courtyard was clearly where she was expected to go, as it was filled with guests milling about in different groups and the aurora of power from so many Pagan gods assembled in one place was electric. Her eyes darted about cautiously before entering the courtyard - taking in the wide number of people and the different postures across the space. That she could tell who was a god and who was merely mortal like her felt unsettling, the brightly colorful garb and confidence that rolled off of the gods so at odds with the people - horses, her mind supplied to her, or rather those that would wish to provide their bodies for possession and channeling of the gods and goddesses will - that were in mostly dull neutral clothes that hung from their frames but was not so standardised as she’d have expected. It was more the deference and slight bow of their heads that gave away those here as worshippers from those to be worshipped. There were still more people though - those mortals who offered other types of sacrifice than their own beings, clearly wearing their version of ‘Sunday Best’ and while not so subservient as the horses milling about, were still clearly deferent to the gods that moved through the space, heads tilted just that little bit or eyes just not able to hold direct eye contact with those they worshipped to. Wiping her sweaty hands cautiously against the fabric of her brightly colored dress, Jo took a calming breath before throwing her head back and stepping forward as confidently as possible once she’d taken in as much as she could from the secluded spot just before the doorway, eyes up and back straight, refusing to be thought as cowed by any of those with power in the space.

The purpose of the celebration was clearly easy to locate - the rattan throne raised up on a dais towards the centre of the courtyard was obvious and drew the eye. The peacock chair throne was resplendent in its detail the same was the goddess that sat upon it was glorious in the late-morning sun. Erzulie was holding her court.

Jo’s eyes locked onto the goddess’ after a few steps into the courtyard, and the slow smile that came across the goddess of femininity’s face grew with each step as she reached out a hand, beckoning to her as Jo moved slowly forward. Her wrists were covering in gold and beaded bangles, her golden rings shining catching the light as she called out in a warm, comforting voice, “Joanna! My darling girl, come here.”

It wasn’t a command at least, and Jo felt her own lips twitching into a smile at the way those between her and the one goddess she knew parted like the sea before her. Moving closer, the blonde barely concealed an eyeroll as she got to the raised platform acting as a dais that the beautiful goddess sat on. The rose petals were twice as thick on the platform, and Jo glanced in confusion as a man with thick braided hair stood up from a seat off to Erzulie’s right-hand side to take the brightly embroidered pillow from his chair and placed it a foot before the goddess with a smirk. Looking at the pillow and then back to meet the woman’s eyes, Jo quirked a brow at the other questioningly as the goddess stood.

“My sweet girl, how are you? Did you have a good trip down to my humble little party?” “I mean, New Orleans in Summer is a bit of the pits.” “So true, so true my dear. Much warmer here than that little lake you’ve taken to.”

Jo found herself holding back an eyeroll at that - the crisp summers at home compared to the muggy humidity of Louisiana were the difference of the sweat beads rolling down her back - and taking the goddess’ hand when she offered it before scowling slightly as she was guided down onto the bright pink cushion as Erzulie settled herself back onto her rattan throne with a ringing laugh.

“Apologies though, youngling, I unfortunately am not the one who can control the weather. Nor was I the one to name the date,” Erzulie shrugged a shoulder, the delicate golden chains that adorned her neck and shoulders rattling faintly with the movement as she shook out the yards of shimmering pastel pink silk that was draped over her body from the haltered dress the goddess wore about her to cover her own bejeweled, bare feet. Jo spotted the flash of toe rings on the feminine toes that poked out before being covered with the silk as she herself had plopped down indelicately onto the cushion at the goddess’ feet, uncaring if her shoes scraped up petals or her skirts caught between her legs. “You see, today is my feast day.”

“Happy birthday.” Jo snarked back with a smirk, picking at an invisible piece of lint from her lap before she looked back up at the other at the laugh that rang out again. “If I’d known, I’d’ve brought a present.”

“Ah, but already have - or rather, will - my little flower. It has been quite a time since you’ve made a devotional, after all, and I had hoped you would have done one before now so I could be my very, very shiny best-” The dark skinned goddess pouted, lips full and as pink as her dress as she looked the part of a spoiled child not having gotten her way, before she tossed her head back and gave another of those shrugs that made her necklaces and chains catch and shimmer in the light. Erzulie waved a non-commital hand again before she reached out to run the same over Jo’s own hair with a softer smile. “But then I thought, what better gift, my sweet, then for you to come and partake in the festivities yourself? Besides, half the point is the show after all, and your devotionals are always so… What word would you say, my love?”

The man who’d moved the pillow spoke then, even without Erzulie’s eyes moving from Jo’s face. “Awe inspiring, my beauty.” The man smiled - all teeth sharp and white like a sharks - towards Jo for a moment before glancing over his shoulder back towards the goddess’ face. “You will always in all ways be the most gorgeous woman of course, but you do always seem more refreshed and extra beautiful afterwards.”

“Oh you flatter me, my love.” Jo blinked in surprise to see the slight blush on the other woman’s face before she let out another loud laugh. “But you are right. You see, Joanna, your prayers are always so invigorating for an old lady like me. And I’d love to rub that in that good for nothing Anasia’s face that I have such a daughter.”

Blonde brow raised, Jo blinked a few times as the goddess’ words before she shrugged a shoulder of her own in return. It was true she hadn’t called upon the other’s powers in some time - her hunts more straight forward lately and even more sparsely in between as she had spent more time working on answering hunter queries and helping research than actively hunting for a while, soaking in the chance to be at home during the warm months to spend with her love and baby girl instead of in her sweltering car on the road - and if the answer to getting home safe and sound was to light a candle and say her usual prayers for safety and protection, it wasn’t like that would be hard. Sitting on a cushion like a pet at the others feet however, that was not so easy, and shuffling uncomfortably, Jo raised her other brow before sighing.

“I suppose that would have ta do for a gift, right? Can’t really pull anythin’ out of my pockets when I hadn’t planned anythin’.” “So true, but don’t you worry my dear, I can promise to appreciate it the most.”

“Even more than my gift?” The man standing to the left of Erzulie’s throne spoke then, dark brown eyes sparkling with the same humour as his tone as he placed a hand over the other’s shoulder. “Why, I am hurt, my love, absolutely skewered through. I thought my love meant something!”

Erzulie let out another loud laugh, her hand moving from Jo’s hair to catch the man’s hand and pressing a bright pink lipped kiss to the palm of his hand - an imprint left behind as she squeezed his fingers. “You think so very highly of yourself, don’t you, husband-dear?”

“Of course, my dear, I’ve always done so. A snake may change his skin, but he doesn’t change what he is.” “Damballah, you think your gift outshone mine?” “Given mine did not smell of seaweed, Agwe, I am absolutely certain it did.” “Mine did not smell like seaweed, you good for nothing snake-”

The back and forth between the two men was quick and fast, Jo barely registering the jokes of the two as her mind scrambled to assign the name of Damballah, the serpent father, to the standing man and the title of Agew the sea god to the man that had set the pillow down for her. Blinking rapidly, her eyes quickly jerked between both men, scanning anything that would be recognisable before she noted the golden rings each wore with their own symbol that matched two of the three rings on Erzulie’s own hand as she laughed and batted at the both of them. Turning her eyes over towards the quiet, stoic man that sat to Erzulie’s left in front of Damballah, Jo noted the ring on his hand barely visible under his own long sleeves despite the heat matched the goddess’ last ring - identifying him as the third and last of her husbands, Ogoun the warrior. As the three others continued to speak, their tones warm and playful even if the gods both had a slight undertone of threat to it, Jo found herself simply staring back at the silent, considering look she was getting from the third.

“Come on, girlie.” Jo jerked in surprise at the hand that fell on her arm as the sea god got back to his feet with another of those sharp, white smiles. “We’ll have to show you around to our love’s guests before the devotionals and sacrifices start. It’s all part of the spectacle to show you off after all.”

“I, uh, that is, I’m not-” The hunter stammered a few times as the god stood in front of her and held out his hand to help her up. Panicked, Jo’s eyes darted back to her patron’s for a moment, as if uncertain what to do. Erzulie really was the only one she even knew how to interact with at all in the room, but the goddess was smiling gently at her as she was pulled to her feet. “Um… o-okay?”

“Don’t worry, little huntress,” Agwe spoke gently a few moments later after he’d helped her back to her feet and down the steps from the dais and back into the milling, curious crowd. Jo’d noticed how Damballah had moved to reset the cushion onto the seat the sea-god had been on and taken the spot for himself as the pair had moved away, Erzulie’s attention taken up by her other two husband’s as her first had taken Jo away. His voice, the first husband’s, was soft and his green eyes caught her uncertain ones as she finally looked back from the centre of the room to catch his own. “You are here under my lovely wife’s complete protection, little one. Nobody here could touch you, even if they dared. You’ll be perfectly safe.”

“Oh will I? What makes you think I’m worried ‘bout that?” “The ear splittingly loud thudding of that heart of yours, first off-” “I am not-!” “And secondly, because my darling beauty did mention your first interaction with a crowd of gods may not have been so… comforting an experience as she hopes you will find this one.”

“Oh?” Jo breathed the word out in surprise, blinking widely as she glanced over her shoulder towards where the beauty still sat laughing with the men to either side. Surprised that the goddess might have understood or possibly even felt Jo’s uncertainty and fear the first time they had met. That a being with endless years and so little humanity left to her could remember and thought to ensure that Jo would feel comfortable was a peculiar feeling. Turning back to the speculative look she was receiving from the god holding her arm as he took two cups of some fruity drink from a passing waiter and held one out to her, Jo quirked a brow up at him. “And what makes you so certain I’m safe here? I know your, uh, pantheon of sorts isn’t known to be the most…”

“Cohesive?” “I was gonna say safe.” “Ouch, cruel! No wonder you are my love’s favored!” “Favored?”

“You think all of those who pray to my love gets their prayers answered?” Agwe sent her a surprised look in return as he took a sip of his own drink as Jo fiddled with the straw on hers, before letting out a loud crack of laughter that sounded like the oncoming book of thunder rolling over an unprepared sea. “Only the most special of our devotees get even more than a scrap of our attention, given our long lives and how little you little humans deserve of our attention. And you, dear flower, are by far my wife’s most favored and most devoted and most loved daughter.”

Jo barely held back the shudder at that thought. She took a sip of her drink mulling over the words as she was slowly led in an aimless circle around the room, as if the god leading her had no intention of actually introducing her about until he was certain of her mindset and understanding of the situation she had actually entered.

Swallowing the sugary sweet nectar from the mango drink, she closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and really looking around the assembled groups. When she’d arrived she had thought that it was simply the changes in clothes and the crackling of energy that could show the difference between the gods and those devotees at the party. And while that was true, she could see clearer now as she glanced about the different groups milling about. There was no touching, no interacting, no affection or care shown between the gods and the humans in the space. The way the mortals would defer and drop their gazes after a few seconds made complete sense - devoted, god-fearing humans of course feeling unworthy of attention or uncertainty at catching more than a little attention - but blinking her eyes, Jo found herself surprised to note how those she could see to be gods barely noticed those beneath them. Their gazes would slide over and off the mortals, never catching any amount of attention for more than a second, as if there was nothing of interest to them. That was, except when she would catch an eye looking at her that stared firmly back all around the room. Even the god holding her elbow gently was unusual, no other god seemed to even brush a human as they stood talking. Everything seemed so in tune towards the fact that people were boring to this crowd of gods, that humans were typically below notice.

“Oh.” “Very succinct of you, Joanna.” “It’s Jo.”

“Of course it is, Jo.” The correction took her by surprise, eyes jerking back to the smirking god beside her as if he knew he’d managed to catch her off guard. A large hand threw out gesturing about the space for a moment as they finished the first lap about the room towards his goddess wife. “But the point stands, as I hope you’ve noticed. You are safe here, for humans are both nothing to us, and you are also important to my love so will be safe here on her devotional day.”

“So I wouldn’t be if it wasn’t her party?” “Of course not. But it is. So you will be safe.” “Uh huh.”

There was a long sigh before the god beside her let out a chuckle. “Since you seem to have grasped some of it, let me introduce you around then. But no taking advantage of your protection to cause trouble-” The look she got from Agwe, as she raised a brow and opened her mouth as if to argue, was knowing and bemused. “You think I don’t realise only one as troublesome and unpredictable as my love would catch her attention? No, I see through you, girlie, and I would think better of some of it.”

“Only some?” “He means anything that would get you into the more fun kind of trouble.”

Jo let out a surprised yelp at the interruption from her other side, eyes wide and confused at being approached out of the blue by someone here. Everything seemed so strangely structured even though it wasn’t, and she half expected to be the one taken to be introduced to whomever Erzulie or her husbands’ decided to dictate she would. Blinking in surprise, she turned to look at the boyish grin on the man that had approached, taking in the roughishly bemused look on the man’s face.

Swallowing thickly on nothing, Jo shrugged a shoulder as she glanced back at the god that had let go of her arm at the other’s appearance before raising a brow at the newcomer. “What kind of fun is that?”

“My kind, I’m betting. Or perhaps Baron and Bridgette’s type.” The boyish charm didn’t leave at all as the god grinned at her still, his eyes shining with a warmth she hadn’t noticed had been missing in Erzulie’s companions until she saw it in this god’s eyes. There was a beat before a wide hand was held out towards her, and Jo let out a loud laugh as she shook his only to have an unexpected zap come from the touch. “My bad!”

“Ti Malice, are you up to your tricks again?” “Hey, I heard you promising safety not utter boredom. Lighten up, Agwe, or your wife might get bored of all three of you and be after some more fun.” “What makes you think anyone wants your kind of fun here?” “If I wasn’t wanted, my invitation would’ve gotten lost in the mail.”

“What makes you think it didn’t?” Jo could hear herself speaking before she recognised she’d even spoken, and getting a warm laugh from the man beside her felt like both an achievement and something easy to achieve all at once. Agwe simply gave a sigh and an eye roll as she turned to look at the new god. “Or would it not have mattered if it did get lost?”

“Oh it absolutely wouldn’t have mattered. I never miss a party when I can.” The god grinned back at her, all teeth but in a way filled with joy and excitement and not the slightly cold, predatory look that the sea-god’s smile gave off. There was a beat before the other smiled even wider and gave a exaggerated bow and hand gesture. “Since the cold fish won’t do it, may I introduce myself? Ti Malice, trickster-extraordinaire, pleasure to meet you.”

Jo let out a little giggle of her own at the flashy showmanship, her mind immediately recognising some of the flare to the god’s presentation from her experiences with her fake-trickster friend. “Nice ta meet cha, I’m Jo Harvelle.”

“There now, boring bits out of the way - we can get rid of the boring old seaman, right?” Ti Malice’s smirk should have sent a shiver down her spine if it had been directed at her, instead it was fully focused on the glaring god beside her who stared back for a long moment. “Oh come on, old man. You know I might be a trickster but I’m not an idiot. Besides, your wife is waving for you.”

Jo glanced back over her shoulder as did Agwe beside her, both to see Erzulie waving a hand towards them and calling barely audibly over the distance and the hum of conversation in the room for the sea-god himself. Jo glanced up at the taller god for a long moment before he gave her a sharp nod and turned to head back to his wife’s side. Blinking a few times, she was unsurprised to realise the trickster had stepped carefully closer on her other side that she shuffled an inch away, getting a laugh in response.

“Don’t worry, I’m far far more behaved than what my title suggests-” “Oh? Because I’ve some history with tricksters. And the last one I dealt with was a right piece’a work.” “Have you now? Which of us was that?” “Stupid fuckin’ fairy-”

Her grumbled words got a loud laugh from the trickster beside her, his laughter bouncing about the courtyard and cutting over and through other conversations like a booming thunderstorm. Jo blushed as she noticed several heads turn their way and staring for a long moment, fiddling with her dress awkwardly as she waited for the man beside her to unbend from his laughter.

“Oh! Oh no wonder you looked like you’d sucked a lemon! Not all of us are like him, I promise.” Ti Malice’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears of laughter as he finally righted himself, wiping at his eyes with a few warm chuckles. “I mean, we are all like that - but some of us are a little more fun and a little less sadistic.”

“That’s good to know-” “If you want sadistic though- come with me!”

Jo let out a surprised yelp as the god grabbed a hold of her closet wrist and tugged her quickly, pulling her through the crowd and weaving through the different groups milling about until he’d reached some unknown destination. She looked up from her feet, where she’d been focusing on not tripping over or slipping on the built up rose petals covering the uneven ground, to blink in surprise at the pair that the trickster god had brought her to.

A willowy, redheaded woman with pale skin that glowed in the warm sunlight that managed to dapple through the overhead tree canopy and an even taller man with skin as dark as hers was pale looked back at her curiously. Ti Malice’s grin was uncomfortably towards that edge of sadistic glee as he gave a tug to pull her in closer to the small little group. “Hey Mama and Daddy, want to see something strange? Look at this one!”

Jo jerked her hand back out of the god’s grip, temper flaring as she slapped away the hand flourishing towards her as if showing off something to the other two. The look of unrepentant on the trickster’s face was far too well suited to his boyish face, and she barely bit down snarling at him as she was gifted with a teasing tongue stuck out at her for a second.

“Malis, what trouble are you causin’ now?” The woman spoke softly, voice gentle and lilting with an Irish accent that matched up in Jo’s mind with her looks quickly. Glancing between the goddess and the man with his arm firmly around her waist, there was a second before Jo managed to work out the pairs identity as the Baron and his wife, Bridgette. “You sure you should be playin’ such games today?”

“Oh Erzy has a good sense of humor when she wants to-” “And you think today she does?” “Well, she will. Or else she’d’ve sent Ogoun over to stop me.”

“He isn’t wrong, renmen,” The Baron said, his voice a gruff growl. Jo barely stopped the shiver the god’s voice made want to happen, the tone rough and somehow bone-chilling for her. Likely something to do with the power the god of the dead held. There was a second before she managed to get control of herself again and glanced up to meet his piercing look straight on like none of the mortals in the whole space seemingly had, and couldn’t hold back the shiver at the next words spoken. “You have died.”

“Yeah, just the once.” Jo replied after a long, quiet moment between the quartet, unable to drop the death god’s gaze. “Fun times had by all, totally enjoyed chokin’ on my own blood. Would totally recommend it.”

“Would you now?” Jo swallowed thickly herself at the dark smile that graced the god’s face as he stared back at her undeterred from her sarcasm. Baron’s eyes stared her down for a further moment before he finally turned to look towards his wife with a wide grin. “I like this one.”

“Now, sweetie, I don’t think that’s goin’ ta work very well. You know how Erzulie is about bein’ the centre of attention and sharin’ anythin’.” Bridgette’s smile was just to the side of patronising as she gazed back at her husband for a moment before rolling her eyes at his shrug. Turning towards Jo, the redhead held out a dainty hand to shake. “Since neither of these men have any manners, I’m Bridgette, and this is my husband the Baron.”

“I guessed that.” Jo smiled back slightly, still processing what the pair had been talking about before shaking her head and taking the other woman’s hand. “ ‘m Jo. Erzulie’s my, uh, I guess patron?”

“Oh yes, that’d be the right term for you-” “Good to know.” “I much prefer my followers to be like that myself too. Unlike some others.” “Huh?”

“Not enough free will, sweetheart, in case you hadn’t noticed.” Bridgette waved a delicate hand around towards the rest of the crowd, pointing out towards the horses milling about in their dull clothes and heads entirely bowed to below that of the shortest god irrespective of their own height. There was a much older man, clearly an old god from the gnarled hands and grey hairs, that was seated and slumped slightly that they all kept to below despite his clear disinterest in being so measured against. And then likewise she pointed to some of the other devotees who kept their eyes downcast but in constant look out for if they’d spoken too loud or interrupted a god’s voice. “I mean, the power is nice and all, but I miss the irreverence of the Irish sometimes.”

“Oh, but don’t you think we deserve subservience?” The chirped voice sprang up on Jo’s other side, and jerking to the side, bumping into the grinning trickster, Jo looked surprised at the young looking woman beside her with a head full of thick curls and wide almond shaped eyes. Her pink dress matched the tones of Erzulie’s herself, and Jo blinked in surprise to see it - having figured the goddess would’ve wanted to be the only one in the color on her special day. “Hi! I’m Filomez, you must be Joanna Harvelle.” There was a second before the girl seemingly broke all patterns of the other pagans and moved forward to tug Jo into a tight hug. “Erzulie’s told me so much about you! I look forward to seeing your devotional later.”

“You’ll be partaking?” The rumbled words from the Baron were less surprising this time as Jo gave a few pats to the young woman’s back before the shorter goddess - one of the only ones near Jo’s own height - pulled back. “So that is the surprise, hmm.”

Jo gave a shrug of her shoulder as she shifted a little, uncertain if she should speak more or not as Malice seemed to jump in making up some story about an entire secret room of devotees that were due to arrive and bolster the beauty goddess’ powers to outshine everyone else in the space. Filomez nodded along, agreeing repeatedly and eyes wide and happy as she spoke about her ‘big sister’ having promised something spectacular. Jo’s stomach felt slightly queasy as she listened, finishing her drink slowly as she shrunk in on herself. It was pressure, and pressure on her she could tell, even if there was any sort of joke that it might not.

Looking around the space, she noted other gods and goddesses having arrived, and especially a beautiful woman in a bright yellow dress that almost outshone against Erzulie’s own glorious gown. Jo frowned noting it, looking around the courtyard for a moment and noting how that goddess seemed to stand out alongside Erzulie. All the others, while dressed ostentatiously and clearly in rich and vibrant colors, were not eye-catching and attention seeking in a way like the newly arrived goddess was. Filomez wore a soft baby pink dress that draped around her to show off her slim figure but it didn’t scream for attention, likewise Baron and Bridgette were matched in black and red clothes that sucked the light from around them but still didn’t draw attention to them over anyone else. Malice’s bright orange jumpsuit might have stood out anywhere else, but seemed considered and paired back in this crowd somehow. But the newly arrived goddess stood out, and in a way that, as Jo flicked a glance towards the centre of the room where Erzulie and her husbands sat to see the glare upon her goddess’ face, was inappropriate.

“Look what the cat dragged in-” “Don’t you mean ‘look out for the cat fight’, Malis?” “Same thing, Baron.”

Jo frowned slightly, attention drawn back to the group she stood near to notice the glare being delivered towards the newcomer from Filomez, and blinked a few times at noticing how the younger looking woman’s face had shifted. It was something she’d seen on Erzulie’s before, the shifting of which facet took control but without the entire change of hair style like the first time Jo’d met the goddess of women. “So, uh, who’s that?”

“Anaisa Pye. She thinks she’s better than my dearest sister.” Filomez spoke, voice harsh and gravelly to the exact opposite that it had been sweet and light before, and it wasn’t until a meaty hand landed on Jo’s head that she realised she’d been waiting for the goddess to speak some more.

Jerking in surprise, she looked up towards the person who’d interrupted to see the impassive looking face of Erzulie’s third husband, Ogoun, looking back at her. “You need to come with me.” The man’s voice was still so quiet, and after a moment he removed his hand and turned back towards the dais and started to walk without waiting for her.

Glancing back to the assorted gods she’d stood with, Jo was unsurprised to see Ti Malice’s eyes glittering with mischief as he opened his mouth to suggest she stay where she was. The other three were less clearly unbothered by the massive warrior god’s arrival and departure, and after raising a quick brow, Jo turned back towards the centre and headed towards her goddess. After all, if she was being summoned, it would be to pray; and then she’d likely be able to head home before any kind of troubles could start if the change in atmosphere she’d noticed since the goddess Anaisa Pye’s arrival spelt.

As she reached the dais, Jo was surprised to notice that the newly arrived goddess was standing before Erzulie herself, cocky smile to her face. “Why, Erzulie, old girl. How lovely to see you today! I hope you’ve not broken your back putting this all on, I wouldn’t want you straining anything.”

“Anaisa, you actually managed to get out of bed for once!” Erzulie replied snippily, eyes focused like a cat on it’s prey. “Tell me, did you make sure to get all the prayers for the year in before this? I mean, that’s the only way you’d get the energy to even make it here.”

“You underestimate my followers, as always. But I suppose you can’t have quite so devoted worshippers as the rest of us who fulfil their needs better, Erzie.” “Better? Oh, you mean by having so few calls that you’ve the time for all, what, three people who ever think to ask you for help, Annie?” “They can’t be all so desperate as to have to ask for yours, you know.”

Jo had to bite down on a smirk watching the two goddesses at each other’s throats as she waited patiently a few steps away. It wasn’t surprising to find that not all gods could stand one another, the animosity reminding her of the Irish couple she’d been exposed to - but without the underlying sexual tension, which she had to cover her mouth to stop from laughing thinking at that comparison.

She must have made a noise though, as Jo found herself with the attention of both goddesses upon her then, and shrinking back a step Jo scowled at the one closest to hers remark. “Oh, what a beautiful dress. I do so love yellow. Are you one of mine, human?”

“Anaisa, that is my follower.” Erzulie’s words were hissed out and sharp, eyes just as cutting as she glared towards the other goddess. “My husband had fetched her for me, Joanna, my darling girl, come sit. We’ll get to your gift after the others.” Jo frowned for a second as she realised that her patron hadn’t dropped her glare from the other goddess’ face yet and yet pointed towards a spot for Jo to sit. Her frown disappeared to realise that she was pointing at the seat that Ogoun had been sitting in before instead of a cushion on the floor, and glancing up, Jo noticed that the tall warrior was stood behind the chair instead. “Quickly, my flower, before the stench of some uncivilised upstart goddess gets caught entirely in my nose.”

“Oh you-” Anaisa sneered back for a second, glaring towards the goddess of the day for a moment, before she turned to stalk off to the side as Jo sat down and Erzulie stood in the same moment to draw the attention of the crowd.

That wasn’t hard for the goddess though. She barely needed to raise her voice to silence all the murmuring of the gods around the space, hands thrown wide and shimmering small golden light sparks around the space where her chains and bracelets and rings caught the sunlight. Erzulie clearly intended to make a point of this all. “Everyone! Thank you all for joining me today on such an important date.” Her voice was sweet and warm, but the underlying current of power that ran through it reminded Jo of her other facet - the fierce, blood thirtsty side that gave the power to the downtrodden to rise up. “I look forward to our next gathering for the next feast day with glee, but before that can happen, so to must todays rituals. My love, the first?”

Jo was unsurprised to see that Damballah was the husband to step forward and beckon to the first of those humans here to give over a ritual or gift to the goddess. What did surprise Jo was to witness how those who were so drawn into this religion and practices gave their thanks to a deity right in front of them. She knew, of course, how the usual practices went and was not surprised to see a goat’s blood spilled at one point or, given the goddess in question, bottles and bottles of perfume poured out into vessels before the worshiper would spill drops of their own blood in as well. She was surprised however to witness how with each prayer or sacrifice that the goddess seated on the throne beside her would glow faintly, and that each devotee was granted the permission to approach the dais and kiss the goddess’ feet before being rewarded with a kiss to the crown of their heads. It was something strange to see the looks of wonder and awe on each of the worshipers faces as they genuflected over and over as they retreated after each of their provisions; that such a small symbol, from a goddess that Jo saw more as a quirky aunt that pinched her cheeks than a deity, meant so much to these people. Jo even watched with eyes wide as the practitioner who introduced her to the idea of drawing from the voodoo gods was there and gave her own thanks. Jo was more surprised to see the look of absolute astonishment and wonder when the other saw her seated there. That look would haunt her for a while.

As the last person bowed and scurried back from the dais, Jo was unsurprised to see a hand held out to her from the god standing behind her. Ogoun helped her to her feet, even though Jo raised a brow at the sheer idea she might have needed the help, and walked her to the same spot that the others had stood to put forth their sacrifices.

Jo waited a second after he’d let her hand go and moved to take the seat that she had vacated to look about uncertainly. It was all well and good to pray, and she would easily, but after witnessing the others it felt a little anticlimactic, especially since she clearly held far less belief than the others.

“Um…” She shifted her weight awkwardly, weighing up the options. “I, uh-” Looking around, Jo could see a few gods shifting their own weight and twisting to mumble to one another. Obviously laughing at the lost little girl, and likewise laughing at Erzulie who stared down at her impassively. There was a moment as a dark brow quirked at her, before Jo glanced around again before letting out a quiet noise of approval as she spotted something she could contribute. Approaching the closest table, Jo pulled a lit candle from the centrepiece before moving back before the altar - candle still aflame and the wax dripping down one side of the candle to the floor. It took barely a moment to pull one of the blood-dipped daggers she had strapped to her legs to start the carvings that she knew off by heart at this point, even as she felt her cheeks flushing brightly at the laughter and murmurs she could hear from those around her at that. As she finished the last of the swirling curls of the heart design for the goddess before her, Jo raised an eyebrow back at the other before setting it down.

There didn’t seem to be anything for a moment before Erzulie gestured towards the flame with her hand and Jo gave a quiet sigh. Kneeling down, she pressed the edge of her blade to her thumb before holding her dripping finger over the flame itself. Pressing on the wound gently with her other hand until a enough drops of blood had fallen to extinguish the flame, Jo let out a gasp as she noticed the light in the room change from the overhead shadows of the sun to something shining and golden before her. Looking up, it wasn’t just her clearly surprised to see the amount of light shining off the goddess. Erzulie sat smiling wide, toothy and pleased, as her skin seemed to almost glow golden like her necklaces and chains, and her hair likewise shone golden. The shine didn’t go down completely like it had after a few seconds from the other sacrifices and rituals, it seemed to sink into the goddess’ skin but not leave as a whole, her whole being softly radiating light under her form as she smiled down towards the blonde.

Rising to her feet, Jo approached at the hand the goddess held out towards her, frowning slightly as she got before her. “I ain’t kissin’ your feet, just so you know.” Jo heard herself speak again, and scrunched her eyes up as she heard what she said, before letting out a sigh of relief at the laugh she got in response.

“Of course not, my flower,” Erzulie replied gently, standing from her seat for a moment like she hadn’t for the other followers before surprising her with a kiss to her forehead unlike anyone else. “You’ve been having a very good time lately, Joanna, I am so happy for you and that I can share in even a little bit of it. Thank you again, my sweet girl.”

Jo felt herself frowning slightly as the goddess pressed another kiss to her forehead before letting go of her, and stepping away, Jo was not surprised to see that those milling around were no longer looking at her at all but drawn entirely like moths to the flame towards the power exuding from the goddess behind her. It was expected. Gods of their kind, those with slowly diminishing follower bases but who still relied upon them would always be drawn towards such sparks of power, and especially the god or goddess that had it at the time.

Moving through the crowd moving forward was easy enough for her - no other mortals seemed to still be present, having left after each of their sacrifices or prayers themselves; and what was a mortal to a god? Shaking her head to herself as she wiped her dagger off on a nearby cloth napkin, Jo was actually surprised to hear a cough from behind her. Turning about, she kept a firm grip on her blade and the cloth as well as she stared cautiously towards the god before her.

“A pretty demonstration there, girl.” The god was surprisingly tall compared to when she’d seen him before, spindly though and his eyes seemed almost ancient as she looked up at him. The god hadn’t moved at all throughout the whole time she’d been there from the seat he’d been sunk into, his old body clearly reflective of his age and looking down at the cane and dog by his side, Jo let out a whoosh of air as she realised which of the loas had approached her. The only one old enough not to care for the frenzied and overly bouncy reaction of the goddess on her throne. Papa Legba stared down at her with eyes milky from cataracts but that seemed to see right through her. “I would leave if I were you, child. They say beware being a favorite, but also being known to be favorite can be even more dangerous. Especially amongst those starving for power.”

Jo frowned slightly, twisting the hand at her side holding the cloth napkin as the god’s dog shuffled forwards to sniff at her hand, before she moved to stroke the animal’s head for a moment. The god’s words felt kind in a way none of the other’s had - the trickster wanted to cause trouble; the god of the dead wanted to get under her skin and his wife was simply bored; the young goddess was bold but didn’t have enough to know what was right or wrong; the fiery competitor had said no kind words towards her that weren’t selfish in it’s own; the three husbands cared only for their competition and their wife; and while Erzulie favored her, that was always self serving and selfish as the goddess was. The old man’s words felt kind for the sake of kindness and compassion. The voice that spoke of more than just his own power nor the demands for power from humans, the communicator between the worlds of gods and the realms of humans, the one who still held a compassion for humans and their fleeting worlds.

As the dog snuffled at her hand and after she scratched under it’s chin, Jo glanced up ready to thank the other to note his warm eyes already nodding to her without her having to speak. There was another moment before the old god turned, picking his way back into the crowd, through which Jo could still see the golden goddess spinning and laughing and soaking in all the attention she craved so much. Drinking in being the centre of the world for a few brief hours in a way that left the blonde sighing in sympathy and pity as she turned to head home to true safety and where the world span from.

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#jopov #cc #ca

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