I'm gonna move to the southwest, and, I don't know...

After he'd taken the obligatory photos, Caleb took a long moment to just look at the ruins before him and wonder. Wonder about the gods, or beings worshipped as gods, or, heck even just stories that took off and inspired folk to build these temples.

The creatures that people told stories about back home, well they were real. Sort of. Some of 'em. A few of them even had worshippers, though, he didn't like to think too hard on that.

And now here were their temples, their places of power, reduced to impressive, picturesque tourist attractions. He declined to look at them, but he didn't always have to see power in order to feel it. If there had been wards placed, or workings performed here, their power had faded a long time ago.

Had the monsters and gods of ancient Greece really existed in some form? Did they have their own version of the Inner Dark to shape creatures of nightmare? Did the Green gift some folks with powers and talents needed to fight them? It was hard to credit, given that most of the stories were about men. Sure, Melvin Blevins might could do something, but the heroes of Caleb's experience had pretty much all been women.

Maybe those bloodlines still existed. Maybe the Boggs or Walker families could've traced their gifted lineages to the oracles of Delphi or the Amazons. 'Cept he was pretty sure most of the folks in his "neck of the woods" were from different parts of Europe.

[I just rambled long enough I figured I should put this in his own journal. Post is open I suppose but might be best for any pings to be over on the fhtrips thread]

This would probably wind up being one of Caleb's "thinkin' Places". The view out at the bay with a bit of the preserve was pretty, there were benches, and if he was really broody, he could lean against the railing dramatically. And today he was definitely extra broody.

He'd been somewhat marathoning some movies he'd checked out from the library. Mostly Disney animated features but on impulse he'd also checked out an epic about the Titanic. All his other thoughts about the film aside, there was one line in particular that affected him.

“I don't even have a picture of him.”

He was going to need to journal about this but first he wanted to ruminate on the memories and feelings that had stirred up. He hadn't heard Arden's broadcast yet so it was a bit of a surprise when music started playing out of nowhere.

( And he started to sing: )

Huh.

"Dunno where y'are Grace but I hope you're livin' th' way you dreamed. You'd have loved this place I reckon."

[The post she is open]