This isn't actually a love story; that was a joke. It's more like a personal confession. I have ever since I was fourteen, always been a huge fan of Dionysus. Ben Franklin said that beer is proof that god loves us and wants us to be happy. Actually most religions (those which abstain from intoxicants aside) think that booze is a gift from god. In many ways I agree with them. I remember one occasion where myself and my best friend snuck out of my house at night, into his house, drank a bunch of his parents' liquor, then proceeded to sit in the room immediately next to their bedroom and loudly toast Dionysus' health. His parents never woke up, and though mine chided me when i got home, nothing came of it. Bacchus looks after his own like that. I go about the world as a satyr, kin to the piper at the gates of dawn, and spread inebriation in my wake. When you need a friend to drink with Bacchus is there, and I will be too if you're buying. Also I'm good to women. Prolly not always as much as I should be, but that applies to men as well. I'm not exactly their patron saint, but someday I will be.
The other side of me is the Furies. I seek revenge. Constantly. There is no wrong done against me which I do not repay in kind or footnote for later. I never forgive nor forget, but I have an immense tolerance for trespasses against me. I simply accept when people have wronged me, and move past it. I can do this for a long time, but if too much distaste is stacked up I stop turning a blind eye, and my tolerance is turned into an equal portion of hatred. Then I get revenge. I am the kindly ones most of the time, but once someone has gone so far that they can no longer be tolerated I drop the new, false name and go by my maiden name, the Furies.
That was kind of a dark post. I didn't mean for it to get so dark, but it did and it's the truth so I will leave what I have written.
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