A Creation Myth
Nov. 27th, 2018 06:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
liverfreePrometheus sat in his workshop, an untouched ball of clay in front of him. Zeus had tasked him with creating new life: a creature worthy enough to worship the gods. Such a project wasn’t completed overnight. No, something like that required intense forethought.
Fortunately, Prometheus was very good at that.
He had already decided that he would make the creature in the Titan’s image. Regrettably, he would not be able to give it a Titan’s size or strength. This would make the creature vulnerable, and that was the reason he had not yet molded the clay. He needed to think of something he could give this creature to protect it from the elements. Fur, perhaps? Some strong claws to burrow into the ground? Or maybe extra fat reserves, to help it survive through the —
“Yo! Prometheus! Check out what I made, bro!”
The voice broke the Titan’s concentration and he sighed, looking up. There was his twin brother, Epimetheus, leaning into the doorframe and grinning from ear to ear.
“Come on, it’s right outside! It’ll just take a second to look. Please? It’s really cool!”
“That’s what you said the last thousand times,” Prometheus complained, but he got up anyway. He’d been holed up in his workshop for hours, he could use a bit of fresh air. He followed his brother out the door, mildly curious over what animal Epimetheus had slapped together this time. He hoped it was something sensible, but considering his brother’s love of giving animals the most outlandish attributes, probably not.
They didn’t call him the Titan of Afterthought for nothing.
“Right over here,” Epimetheus called out as he dashed over to a nearby creek. He flung his hand towards the water, where a sleek furred animal was gracefully paddling among the marshy weeds. “Ta-da! What do you think?”
“Very nice,” Prometheus said automatically. It wasn’t too bad, actually. Kind of like an otter, except for that flat tail, and there was a pleasant curve to the shape of its beak.
Wait a second. Beak?!
Prometheus looked at the animal more closely. Yep, that was definitely a beak. “What in the Nine Muses is this thing?”
“I call it a platypus!” Epimetheus smiled proudly, oblivious to his brother’s incredulous tone. “It’s a semi-aquatic mammal that lays eggs!”
Prometheus stared at his twin. Hard. “Brother, be honest with me. Were you trying to make a duck and forgot what wings and feathers look like?”
“Um… no? I definitely was trying to make a mammal. It produces milk and everything.”
“If it produces milk,” Prometheus said slowly, examining the creature further, “Then where are its nipples?”
“Oh, it doesn’t have any. I figured the little baby beaks wouldn’t be able to suckle so the mom just oozes milk out her side. Oh! Oh! And the males make venom! I put a spur on the ankle. Isn’t that awesome? Some unsuspecting river monster comes along, wanting to step on it, and boom! Straight to Pain Town!”
Prometheus was not prone to violence, but his brother’s cavalier behavior was starting to make his Titan blood boil. “Just to recap here: You made a venomous mammal that lays eggs, secretes milk, and has a beak.”
Epimetheus’s smile faded as he finally clued into his brother’s displeasure. “What, you don’t like it?”
“No, I don’t like it!” Prometheus flung his arms into the air. “It’s a mess! It’s like you grabbed a box of leftovers and mashed them all into a…” He trailed off, distracted by the way the platypus was shaking its head back and forth in the water. “Why is it doing that?”
“It’s hunting.” Epimetheus tapped his nose. “I gave it electroreceptors on the skin of its bill so it can detect its prey underwater. It shuts its eyes, ears, and nostrils when it dives, you see, so I didn’t want the poor thing to —“
“Stop. Just stop, please.” Prometheus massaged his temples, already feeling the beginnings of a headache. “You need to get rid of that thing immediately. If Zeus finds out you’ve been wasting even more of his gifts on animals, he’s going to smite you straight to Tartarus!”
Epimetheus pouted. “No! I like Plato. I don’t want to have to unmake her.”
“Brother! I’m not joking about the smiting!” He sighed and dropped his arms. “If you’re not going to destroy it, then you at least need to stick it somewhere Zeus won’t see it. Why don’t you go put it on that island with all those other weird animals you made?”
“Fiiiiine, I’ll take it to Australia.” Epimetheus scooped the platypus out of the water and tucked her into the crook of his arm. “But I don’t see what the big deal is.”
Prometheus stormed back to his workshop. “The big deal,” he called over his shoulder, “Is that you made something that Echidna could have popped out in her sleep!”
“Hey! Rude! She’s not a monster!” Epimetheus smiled down at his creation and gently tickled her under her bill. “No, you’re absolutely perfect, little Plato. Although that does give me an idea for my next creation…”
Prometheus slammed the door behind him and locked it shut.
Fortunately, Prometheus was very good at that.
He had already decided that he would make the creature in the Titan’s image. Regrettably, he would not be able to give it a Titan’s size or strength. This would make the creature vulnerable, and that was the reason he had not yet molded the clay. He needed to think of something he could give this creature to protect it from the elements. Fur, perhaps? Some strong claws to burrow into the ground? Or maybe extra fat reserves, to help it survive through the —
“Yo! Prometheus! Check out what I made, bro!”
The voice broke the Titan’s concentration and he sighed, looking up. There was his twin brother, Epimetheus, leaning into the doorframe and grinning from ear to ear.
“Come on, it’s right outside! It’ll just take a second to look. Please? It’s really cool!”
“That’s what you said the last thousand times,” Prometheus complained, but he got up anyway. He’d been holed up in his workshop for hours, he could use a bit of fresh air. He followed his brother out the door, mildly curious over what animal Epimetheus had slapped together this time. He hoped it was something sensible, but considering his brother’s love of giving animals the most outlandish attributes, probably not.
They didn’t call him the Titan of Afterthought for nothing.
“Right over here,” Epimetheus called out as he dashed over to a nearby creek. He flung his hand towards the water, where a sleek furred animal was gracefully paddling among the marshy weeds. “Ta-da! What do you think?”
“Very nice,” Prometheus said automatically. It wasn’t too bad, actually. Kind of like an otter, except for that flat tail, and there was a pleasant curve to the shape of its beak.
Wait a second. Beak?!
Prometheus looked at the animal more closely. Yep, that was definitely a beak. “What in the Nine Muses is this thing?”
“I call it a platypus!” Epimetheus smiled proudly, oblivious to his brother’s incredulous tone. “It’s a semi-aquatic mammal that lays eggs!”
Prometheus stared at his twin. Hard. “Brother, be honest with me. Were you trying to make a duck and forgot what wings and feathers look like?”
“Um… no? I definitely was trying to make a mammal. It produces milk and everything.”
“If it produces milk,” Prometheus said slowly, examining the creature further, “Then where are its nipples?”
“Oh, it doesn’t have any. I figured the little baby beaks wouldn’t be able to suckle so the mom just oozes milk out her side. Oh! Oh! And the males make venom! I put a spur on the ankle. Isn’t that awesome? Some unsuspecting river monster comes along, wanting to step on it, and boom! Straight to Pain Town!”
Prometheus was not prone to violence, but his brother’s cavalier behavior was starting to make his Titan blood boil. “Just to recap here: You made a venomous mammal that lays eggs, secretes milk, and has a beak.”
Epimetheus’s smile faded as he finally clued into his brother’s displeasure. “What, you don’t like it?”
“No, I don’t like it!” Prometheus flung his arms into the air. “It’s a mess! It’s like you grabbed a box of leftovers and mashed them all into a…” He trailed off, distracted by the way the platypus was shaking its head back and forth in the water. “Why is it doing that?”
“It’s hunting.” Epimetheus tapped his nose. “I gave it electroreceptors on the skin of its bill so it can detect its prey underwater. It shuts its eyes, ears, and nostrils when it dives, you see, so I didn’t want the poor thing to —“
“Stop. Just stop, please.” Prometheus massaged his temples, already feeling the beginnings of a headache. “You need to get rid of that thing immediately. If Zeus finds out you’ve been wasting even more of his gifts on animals, he’s going to smite you straight to Tartarus!”
Epimetheus pouted. “No! I like Plato. I don’t want to have to unmake her.”
“Brother! I’m not joking about the smiting!” He sighed and dropped his arms. “If you’re not going to destroy it, then you at least need to stick it somewhere Zeus won’t see it. Why don’t you go put it on that island with all those other weird animals you made?”
“Fiiiiine, I’ll take it to Australia.” Epimetheus scooped the platypus out of the water and tucked her into the crook of his arm. “But I don’t see what the big deal is.”
Prometheus stormed back to his workshop. “The big deal,” he called over his shoulder, “Is that you made something that Echidna could have popped out in her sleep!”
“Hey! Rude! She’s not a monster!” Epimetheus smiled down at his creation and gently tickled her under her bill. “No, you’re absolutely perfect, little Plato. Although that does give me an idea for my next creation…”
Prometheus slammed the door behind him and locked it shut.
