Patera Silk of Viron

Earth's holidays are quite intriguing; I've been reading up on them since people began speaking of Halloween. We don't seem to share most of them, in my whorl, which... well. I find myself uncertain; I sometimes feel so sure that it is the Short-Sun Whorl, and other times, it seems impossible. No mentions of Pas, or his children; and yet sometimes, I feel I glimpse the Outsider in your stories, though he goes by other names. I could spend a lifetime studying and never comprehend, and sometimes I feel the City is inclined to let me do so. If nothing else, it is a kindness that curiosity saves me from anxiety over Viron.

I have no costume, really; though I found an old robe in one of the shops here not unlike my own, so perhaps I am dressed as myself for Hallow's Even. Silk of his own whorl, not Silk of the City. Silk who'd never dream of any of the things I have seen. In some ways, I almost envy him his innocence, though I would not trade the whorl to gain it back. I thought it was odd, saying my prayers for High Hierax, some weeks ago, dressed as a layman; now, accustomed to dressing as most here do, it's strange to see the reflection of my proper self. From what I've read, black robes are not inappropriate for the holiday, though perhaps I ought to have some sort of mask, and do not. That long butcher, as some would have said, even in my own quarter. Disrespectful though that title might be, it isn't strictly a lie. I didn't really mind it.

This has been a peculiar month all together; I've found myself winged, I've found myself dancing (though not terribly well, I'm afraid; though in the end the act was well-received.) A month of transformations for the City as well, and today looks to be no different. Frightening yet fantastic. I may be a fool but I feel somehow optimistic, even now.

So, City, I wish you all a joyous Hallow's Eve; by Feasting Phaea, by Echidna, mother of the gods and patroness of the harvest; by Stygian Tartaros, whose holy shadows seem all too appropriate to the festivities, and by Highest Hierax, whose day this surely is.

[ooc: he wouldn't have been as bad a dancer as he thinks he was xD but I'm sure he was utterly bewildered by it. tags will be iffy towards evening since I'm off to the paraaade!]

[VOICE POST]

Today belongs to Highest Hierax, the god of death. Given the affliction many of you seem to be suffering, I think I shall spend much of the day in prayer. Death must be honored; it is inescapable and, though we are loathe to admit it, holy.

All I can think of is, to how many I have brought the Pardon of Pas, and how many myriad more times I have not been able to. Do those spirits also find the Aureate Path, or are they too weighed down by guilt or anger? Pas would forgive them, even so; but do they know it, and know how to seek him?

Sorrowful questions. I am not cursed, I don't believe; then again I've never killed a human. I have sacrificed to the gods countless times, but perhaps animals do not count. I killed a talus once, in self-defense, but they do not bleed; there is no oil on my hands, either.

I haven't been shriven for that, and other acts; may the Outsider forgive me... And all of us.

[/VOICE]