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Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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DEAR READER
Claire Keane
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@it1nerant
── .✦ multimuse blog dependent on @propheciesfm. penned by jace. 28. cst/gmt-6. they/them.
mercedes mercy song — thirty year old strega. havana rose liu ── .✦ intro. musings. threads. romeo rome bautista — thirty-eight (438) year old asteriae. manny jacinto ── .✦ intro. musings. threads. vera eurydice nox — thirty-two (unknown) year old lamia. ashley moore ── .✦ intro. musings. threads.
where: apotheca who: mercy & rowan (@mellitvs)
There were few things that brought Mercy comfort like a witch's brew. Once it had all begun to make true sense to her, her strega nature, she had found herself gravitating toward metaphysical and apothecary stores more and more. Even the scent of the herbs, and the well worn spellbooks with teachings she may never understand were enough to bring her comfort. While sifting through a book, looking for something that may accelerate her binding, she noticed another on the aisle as her. Her lips curl into a smile in greeting before green eyes meet hazel, and then she paled like she saw a ghost. Because, well, to her, she had. “You…” No, no, not here. How could a ghost have followed her here? And why were her clothes different from the ones that had been bloody and torn a part? “You're dead.” She whispered, hand reaching out briefly as if to touch the other, then quickly retreating.
This ghost of hers does not move the way other nightmares of her did, doesn't still hold the blood and wounds of the last moment they breathed, and this should tell her enough — it should clue her into the fact that this woman, the one she saw when she closed her eyes at night and relived her first hunt, was alive and well, somehow. Mercy shut her eyes for a moment, trying to ground herself with some semblance of self before she took on this reality she found herself in. “Why aren't you dead?” She whispered, eyes still squeezed shut, hands threatening to cover her ears as if the woman's silence was too loud. Finally, a breath found her, and she exhaled, then chanced a look at her living ghost, and felt faint all over again. “You're really here, aren't you?” After a breath, she murmured, “B-but how?”
her fingers started the drum against the bar top, a habit that always showed when topics started to get heavy. her gaze was still sharp but softened now into something more kind. " don't apologize. it's not your fault. " people died, hunters more often and most hunting families knew that loss well. " no, it doesn't make it easier. " kelsey admitted. her lips twitched up a little at the other but she shook her head. " i'm not a big drinker, but thank you. what will make it better is you ordering another easy to make drink. bartending has never been a good skill of mine. " she didn't joke often, but the other's expression prompted her to try.
It was never easy dealing with loss. Mercy had grown up going to more funerals than birthdays, constantly feeling as if the ghosts were looming over her shoulders. How the other brushed it off so easily, she was either incredible at her bluff, or operated on a completely different level than Mercy would ever be able to. Her father had always said she was too soft. “My condolences nonetheless.” She tipped her glass up in the Mathers woman's direction, and took a long sip to ease her own nerves. “Time will help you mend, I believe. In the meantime, I am sure there are plenty here who would be able to offer you an ear — myself included.” The corners of her lips turn upward in a small smile, another poor attempt at comfort. When she confided in her lack of skill, Mercy had to laugh. “I don't think you give yourself enough credit — you would be surprised how many people can muck up an old fashioned. You can start on another one, if you don't mind.” She chuckled, noticing that there was mostly just the orange in the bottom of her drink, her nerves making all the decisions for her tonight.
‟ sushi, empanadas, spaghetti and you chose ... greek. ” minty sniffed as if was the most deplorable thing that he could've ever chosen under the sun, though she wouldn't say no to a gyro any time of the day and despite her dramatics, she followed along in the direction he'd gestured to without saying anything else. ‟ what i need for my health, my dear rome, is another one. maybe not as big as this but a medium soda to get me through the rest of the day. i've been sleeping horribly. ” a flippant confession but one nonetheless. sleep didn't come easy to her anyway, but the past weeks had been the worst in years. ‟ how do you manage while working at the hospital ? ”
With Minty chirping in his ear about all his wrong decisions, he couldn't help but laugh as they journeyed in the direction of the shop. “I could go for empanadas. But I doubt you know where we could find any.” The light jest is accompanied by his sideways grin, somewhere between charming and condescending, as was his way. “No, no. You're going to give yourself high blood pressure, anxiety, maybe even — ” He cut himself off as the full statement processed in his brain, and his face softened. “Why aren't you sleeping? Is the new place not comfortable?” He stopped on the pavement to look at her, observe her and her inappropriately sized drink, and Dr. Bautista had all but taken over, checking for other signs of fatigue, fragility, or magical ailments. “I run on adrenaline.” He offered, though he is too distracted with trying to cure her.
amir hums in quiet acknowledgement . there are many things on the menu he has yet to try , but he doubts that any of them would disappoint . the owner , it seems , possesses a love for detail . ❛ you must ? ❜ his choice of words amuses the vampyr , though a flicker of disappointment lingers beneath the surface . yes , the charcuterie board is presented with indulgent care , luxurious and divine ⸻ crafted for gods rather than mortals . but there was a time when every meal bore such reverence and he remembers it all too well . ❛ i must have unreasonably high standards . i consider it the bare minimum . ❜
dark eyes rest on the stranger's features , studying him at the mention of charm . ❛ no , i am not from around here . ❜ the answer leaves his lips easily , truth offered without hesitation for such details cost him little . ❛ my birthplace lies far away from here . ❜ too far to reach by travel ⸻ lost to time and replaced by new names , new faces , new customs . ❛ i have known this island for some time , but it has never been home . what about you ? are you from kairos ? ❜
Rome laughed then, surprised by the unceremonious critique of the platter before him. “Looks like you've got a future as a food critic” He teased, waving his hand in the older man's direction. “I'm sure a man of high brow class such as yourself is used to every meal having a certain decadence to it but,” They trailed off, the shrug attempting to lessen the blow of all but calling him a snob. “I think the simplicity adds a certain elegance to it.” Rome had never brushed shoulders with the upper crust in his years traveling the world, or, not in the sense he'd ever been invited to a fancy dinner. His time was spent kneeling on the floor for simple rice dishes, or stumbling half drunk through streets that no longer exist.
At the mention of where he was from, Rome's expression softened at the words left unsaid. His birthplace had been in the stars — too far away to ever gaze upon correctly. His rebirth had been a monsoon that swept him onto the isles of the philippines, but his vision of the isles he knew before kairos would be unrecognizable to isles the modern world understood. “Is home hard to return to?” He asked, a sympathetic smile on his lips. “No, no. Kairos and I have only known each other a decade or two.” He shrugged, the exact amount of time leaving him the moment he needed it. “My family passed, and I never returned home.” An odd truth, twisted somewhere between his love for the family that took him in and the knowledge that mimaropa and the stars will never see him again. “Well, that got bleak.” He laughed, then held up his drink. “Here's to talking about anything else.” He cheered the air whether the other joined him or not, and took a long drink of his glass.
it wasn't the underworld that changed him , but the fragments that escaped from it ⸻ erebus' children and their endless thirst . julian refuses to speak of the extent of it all , the nightmares from which he wakes , gasping for air . his friends know that he died and he leaves it at that , sparing them the gory details that prove the stranger right : it did change him forever . . . which is why his explorations hardly make any difference now . ❛ a taint ? ❜ he echoes , the word cutting through him like a knife . his eyes narrow as he lowers them with a small shake of his head . is that what he is now ? tainted ? the thought sends an unshakable cold through his veins and he swallows hard before he lifts his gaze back to hers . ❛ i don't know what you're talking about . ❜ denial at its finest , but what else is he supposed to do ? find out just how trustworthy she is , by telling her the truth ? great idea . his mind is racing and he tries to steady himself by watching styx , at least until she turns to look at him , brown eyes piercing his hazel ones almost uncomfortably long . features twist into a frown when realization hits him . ❛ you are not human , are you ? ❜ impolite to ask , perhaps , but they are not having the politest conversation anyway , are they ? his gaze drops to her hand , frown deepening when she grips his arm to underline her words and the urgency behind them . ❛ i wasn't trying to be reckless . ❜ his voice barely rises above a whisper . ❛ and i didn't steal . . . he wanted to come back with me , he followed me . ❜ the erebide never would have taken him from hades' and persephone's realm . never .
Truth was, she would never know what occurred to this man that had him changed, but her intuition was never that far from wrong. Something had occurred in him, and caused a thread to be pulled just out of place, turning him into a pile of thread as opposed to a complete tapestry. Before she could ask him if she had stuttered when he repeated the word ‘taint’, he quickly lied to her, hiding in the comfort of a shadow of truth. “Of course not.” Vera said coldly, the hubris of man once again claiming to be able to overcome that which is not theirs to behold. Her lover had been the same, driven by desire and hubris and the gods be damned audacity to touch what death had already taken. And now look at what had become of her? Who knew what havoc and consequence his journey to the underworld had cost him or those around him, but it was clear he was not ready to reconcile with his mistakes. “No, no. Man can go into a god's domain and come back without so much as a hair out of place. There are no stories that contradict this.” Her tone is not mocking, she is far too scared of what he has done to be, though the words themself could be seen as such.
“Far from it, boy.” Vera admitted, wondering briefly if her pupils had turned to slits in her frustration, some half shifted monstrosity giving her away. But no, he was far too curious for his own good, stepping past boundaries that were better left untouched, so she was sure her knowledge alone led him to this assumption. “What you intended makes no difference here and now. You cannot go there again.” Her throat tightened, her desire to use the hypnotism on him to make him less an idiot tempting, but his willpower was far too strong. Would it even work on a soul like his? She was not eager to try. Besides, hypnotism was reserved exclusively for feeding, at least for her. “You're right — my mistake. The gods are always forgiving on those who trespass. And surely they will believe that he followed you up with no persuasion.” There's a sigh that followed this, accompanied by a tightened grip on his arm. She removed the hand on her chest in favor of placing it on his shoulder. There is no real strength behind the grip, only hoping the touch will bring him down from whatever clouds he was rested upon. “I'm not trying to fight with you. I am simply giving you a warning you would do best to heed.” For a moment, it's another uncomfortably long stare, but she can't bear to look into his defiant eyes, so she settled for his clenched jaw. “Do you even regret what you have done?” The question, one she would kill to ask her old lover, is now thrusted upon a boy of maybe thirty, who is probably in over his head. Yet, an ounce of remorse, a hint of regret, just a wistful glance in the direction of undoing, and she would know there was still some saving to him. She finally met his gaze again, searching for some symblance of regret.
with the shadows gone , emilia is trying to move past the discomfort of the last few weeks ⸻ not as easy as it sounds when two of her closest friends experienced death and transition , leaving a mark that is irreversible . eternal . as much as she wants to be there for them ( and tries her best to do so ) , a part of her craves the presence of another lamia . someone older and wiser , without being a bore . her feet carry her toward the stoa of mysteries and she enters the museum with one goal in mind : finding vera . it doesn't take long before relief floods her features , chocolate brown eyes settling on @it1nerant . ❛ hi . ❜ she breathes , hands reaching out to rest on both of her arms . ❛ i'm here to kidnap you . will you have coffee with me ? ❜ or , quite literally , anything else . all that she truly wants right now is her company .
Life in Kairos was ever changing, faster than a creature of her age would like. It felt more rapid than the average mortal lives were, felt like it was accelerating into something she couldn't yet understand. And just as fast as it had happened, the silence had returned — mundane and unoriginal and terribly bleak as the average mortal's existence was. Whatever had happened had reached its apex, and now there was only the aftermath, picking up whatever pieces she could. It's a relief to turn the corner and see not a relic or fear or shadows, but to spot Emilia making her way toward her. “Hello.” She smiled, eyes twinkling with confusion, but her skin humming in delight at the comfort of the other's touch. She had yet to figure out if it was the nature they were both of, or simply something exclusive to Emilia. “I suppose work could wait…” Vera trailed off, removing the hands from her arms in order to interlace one with her own. “I never know where I will find you next.” She mused, hand squeezing hers in casual affection. “Not that I mind this little diversion. I was getting a little tired with all those artifacts, but — to what do I owe the pleasure?” Her head tilted as she guided her toward the employee exit of the stoa, hoping her probing would not be met with annoyance.
the statement draws a thoughtful frown to her features . it is none of her business , but talia finds herself asking anyway . ❛ did you take your morning jog a little too far or was the destination out of your control ? ❜ the latter would be concerning . unfortunately , the mud on her pajamas might be telling that exact story . morning exercise rarely results in scratches and mud , all over someone's body . the hybrid wouldn't have blamed her for laughing straight in her face . she doesn't appear to be alright ⸻ but she tries not to overstep and cause additional discomfort . ❛ i could fix them up for you if you are really attached to them . ❜ she offers , a small smile tugging at her lips . ❛ but we might want to start with your wounds first . the moors are full of plants that heal , but just as many that can harm . i would rather not see that get infected . ❜ another offer , one the stranger could take or leave . ❛ talia . ❜ she says as she extends a hand . ❛ and you are ? ❜
The way the other observed her should have had her taking a protective step back, but truly, how could wandering the forest in pajamas look normal to anyone? Instead, she self consciously rubbed at her arms as if to self soothe, debating how honest of an answer she should give. “I was…lost in thought.” She decided, because sleepwalking at her old age was not only embarrassing, but somehow too unbelievable for her to say. Not that being lost in though was the most credible answer, but still, it was an easier lie to swallow. “Lost track of time, is all.” The shrug was as unconvincing as the statement, but she tried to look firm in herself.
While she held some sentimentality to the pants — mostly in the form of reliability and comfort — they were long past their expiration date. The soft pastels looked almost childlike compared to the beginner professor status she held, though she had never intended for the garments to be seen. “You've got…quite the observant eye.” Mercy laughed, hands uncovering the marks she had hoped would go unnoticed. “I suppose your help with my arms would be appreciated. I am not well versed in the flora here.” She paused, then nodded in acknowledgement and took a few careful steps toward the other, avoiding twigs and sharp stones as best she could. “Talia — it's a pleasure. I am Mercy.”
he really hated it when marina forced him to come out of the house, but especially in places like this. ambrosia was quiter than most of the other places in kairos but the music was still loud enough that it was a little grating, the quietness of his home, inkspell, and the other places he frequented more what he was used to now. ‟ hmm ? ” asks when he realizes that he's being spoken to, glancing down at his cocktail glass quickly. ‟ i'm not sure, i don't come here that often. ” everything looked the same to him the last time he'd been dragged there, but he also wouldn't be able to point out the bathroom if he needed to.
‟ cranberry juice, sprite, and lime. i don't drink, but you could get a vokda cranberry and ask for a spritz of club soda instead. ” years later and he could still rattle different combinations off of the tip of his tongue. ‟ i think they have other specialty cocktails tonight, but i wasn't paying much attention. ”
The presence of the other was a comfort, at least, in the smallest sense. He wasn't all that good at making friends who didn't want to party, so he was taken aback by the man's quiet nature, but intrigued all the same. “Ah, that's alright. It was mostly a thinly veiled attempt for conversation.” He admitted coolly, though, he was actually really concerned about the change in decor, and they would be finding a waiter at some point in the night to directly ask. “Do you think its working?” They whispered, lips turning upwards into a grin.
At the mention of his cocktail — or mocktail? — Rome's expression deepened in intrigue. It was odd when someone came to a bar alone and didn't drink, wasn't it? Maybe, like the nymph, he was simply here for some company, or the illusion of some. “I think it sounds better how you're having it, actually.” Rome had never developed much of a taste for vodka, for whatever reason it seemed to be the one beverage that left him feeling a little too out of sorts than he liked. But everyone had their preferences. “Specialties?” They repeated, peering around for some sort of sign or menu, fingers aimlessly drumming on their glass. “Now how did I miss that?” He asked, spotting the list of drinks on the back of the bar. “Well, if drinking isn't your thing, how do you kick back then?” An innocent question, careless, but innocent.
there were new hunters sent into the moors to track and find their ways back out under a time limit, younger than her that could make it in half of the time. dorian went quiet again when he recognized that she was attempting to make a joke that never would've landed with him. ❛ the exit is that way. ❜ he nodded his head towards where he knew that the forest thinned to a road that lead to the heart of kairos while he would go the opposite to the source of the magic of the island. ❛ i went for a run. ❜ he answered polite, but blunt. unlike her that looked out of place, he had laced up his shoes with purpose that morning before he had gone into the woods. ❛ it tends to be quieter out here rather than gyms. with less people, although someone in their pajamas is new. ❜
Mercy wasn't funny — it was an unfortunate truth of her existence — so she watched her joke go unappreciated or deliberately ignored when he replied, and sighed as she shifted her weight from side to side. “Riiiight.” She drug out the word, scratching her head in uncertainty as she looked in the direction he had pointed, and then back to him. He struck her as the type of man who kept his cards close to his chest, didn't speak unless absolutely necessary — definitely the type of man her father would hang around. He was a hunter™ and she was a distraction on his journey through the moors. “A run, o'course.” She nodded, though she shifted her gaze away from his to hide the fact that she didn't quite believe him.
“Quieter, yes. Safer? I dunno about that. Gym probably might ensure a longer life span for you.” Her shrug is halfhearted as she begins to remove herself from the patch of twigs and stones she had woken up in, quick enough that she didn't fall on her butt, but feigning a shake so he wouldn't know these muscles were well trained in the hunt as well. She didn't know why she wanted to hide it from him, but it made her feel safer to have an ace up her sleeve. “What can I say? I like to be cozy for my early morning strolls.” As she went to leave in the direction he had gestured, she felt that tingling feeling in her stomach like something was in the moors with them, and she couldn't help but want to offer both creature and hunter a chance at life. “You sure it's not dangerous out there? If it isn't too much trouble…” She trailed off, hating the words before they were even spoken. “Maybe you could make sure I get back safe?” Mercy's expression is one battling annoyance and trying for sympathetic, though she is sure it comes across rather bizarre and, well, awkward.
hazel eyes take her in as he tries to interpret her words . is there an emphasis on the word bones or is it about her age instead ? she makes him doubt that she's human , but her reaction to his statement is enough to distract julian from trying to solve the mystery . ❛ foolish ? why would it be foolish to explore the realm that . . . ❜ voice trails off as he realizes that he is about to overshare . enough of his friends told him that he cannot reveal his true nature unless he trusts someone ⸻ the last thing he should do is extend it to a stranger . ❛ well , i made it back in one piece . ❜ what a weak attempt to smooth things over , but there's a chance that she thinks he's an idiot rather than a new , mysterious species that should be burned at the stake .
the hellhound waits in the sand , tail wagging as he stares at the hand that holds the stick . her words only seem to encourage him and the erebide watches with a thoughtful look on his face . he definitely needs to take notes , just to make sure that he offers this puppy all of the mad dashing that he needs . how fortunate that his new species comes with superspeed . a chuckle escapes him when styx races faster and faster , though he glances at the woman once she resumes speaking . ❛ you have seen them up close ? ❜ he echoes , head tilting . ❛ so you have been to the underworld before ? ❜
His insistence set her skin ablaze, but she bit her tongue, hiding her anger behind a stoic expression. She could feel the taste of metal in her mouth, knowing now she bit down too hard, canine like fangs too sharp for the average human slicing open her human facade. “To enter hell is to forever be changed.” Vera whispered quietly, her eyes searching his in an attempt to find whatever asinine reason had led to his descent. Though she could not tell, could not even sense a change from human to whatever he was now, she knew there was a haunt to his eyes that no unscathed mortal man could have. “Look upon the ocean's low tide and tell me you don't feel a taint upon your soul.” Her voice cracked only slightly — early visions of her own haunted gaze in a water's reflection coming to mind. Gone the girl of the sun, singing and dancing and enchanted by her musical man, and in her stead, a wretched beast slithering around for her next kill.
As the beast was away, Vera felt she could breathe a little easier, if only slightly. This Styx was kinder than most animals she was used to, but she supposed them both being in a world that was not their own bonded them in a sort of way. When he spoke, questioning her, she shook her head and turned to fully face him, brown eyes meeting hazel for perhaps a moment too long, to really emphasize her concern. “How else would I know of its weight?” She admitted, her hand resting against her her heart for a moment, the faint heartbeat reminding her that she was shade no more. Her free hand uncharacteristically reached for him, gripping his arm stern but gentle, as if pleading with him. “You cannot be reckless like that again.” And then, almost as a warning, she added, “Hell does not take being deceived and stolen from lightly.” If there was any question of what he had stolen, her eyes broke away from his to look at the hellhound trying to pull the stick back toward them, dragging it half in the sand.
STARTER: young mi & rome bautista [ @it1nerant ] SETTING: caduceus medical ; night
THE LAST THING YOUNG MI NEEDED WAS AN ACCIDENT SHE HAD NOT PROVOKED. Yet, here she was, carrying a bleeding mortal who had decided it was a good idea to do whatever the hell that was that ended up with her skull cracked on the nightly cement. Granted, it had rained not too long before Young Mi watched the scene unfold before her eyes, so maybe that part of the road was slippering. Alas, as heartless as people generally deemed her to be, Young Mi picked the bleeding human up and took her to the hospital–yes, carrying her as it would not only be faster with her vampyr speed, but also, she wouldn’t want some random person’s blood to stain her car’s seats and have her mouth water every once in a while. ❝ You’re a doctor, yes? ❞ The brunette asked the nearest person wearing scrubs once she’d practically dropped the human on one of the chairs by the waiting area. ❝ Simone Biles over there is out cold after hitting her head. ❞ Young Mi let out a sigh that sounded more as if she were annoyed rather than upset. ❝ Could you–I don’t know, maybe help her? I’d like not to be here for longer than I have to. ❞
The hospital — if it could be called that — had a quiet air to it that gave the illusion of peace and serenity while the actual treatment rooms saw the brunt of the horrors that stumbled through the doors. He was supposed to be more hands off than the others, checking off procedures on a clipboard and only intervening when something out of the scope of his team was necessary. And yet — when the small woman came through his doors, feigning that same level of calm despite the clearly injured woman she had carried in — Rome couldn't help but rush toward her. Perhaps it was simply that a healer never fully lost their sense of urgency for taking care of the wounded.
“Simone Biles, huh?” They laughed, scooping up the unconscious girl, and nodding with his head toward the double doors for the other to follow. “What did she hit head on?” He asked, carrying the woman to the back and setting her on the gurney a nurse had met them halfway with. Observing the woman on the bed, he paled at how deep it was. “Blunt force trauma on the left side of her head.” He murmured as the nurse called out the vitals and he turned to the other woman, calm and yet somehow totally disengaged with the danger her — friend? — was currently in. “You did the right thing bringing her in.” Rome tried to reassure her, offering a hand on her shoulder before quickly removing it. The touch of the other was cold, yet, his own hand tingled and radiated with a warmth he hadn't really expected. “You can follow us to the room — you don't wanna leave your friend alone, right?” Surely the other would be elated at this slight rule he was breaking, allowing her back into the trauma room while they worked her up. They were completely oblivious to what blood might do to the woman.
the door swung open, leg stuck out to try to prevent either of the dogs from running out curiously. the box of ornaments sparkled in the sun sending rays of colors shimmering across vera's features as minty broke out into a bright smile. ‟ well, well. look who the cat dragged in ! ” it took a moment for her to back the dogs away from the door, shooing them with her leg and a hand as she shifted the box to her left hand to balance. ‟ hello to you too ! come on in, they won't bother you. ” the nymph backs up a couple of spaces for vera to be able to enter, sending her back with a great flourish. ‟ welcome, to my humble abode ! please excuse progress, i'm in the middle of decorating. ” as if the ornaments in her hand and the tinsel in her hair wasn't an indication of such. ‟ i accept all bribes, especially when they come in the form of libations. i'm pretty sure i have my wine glasses unpacked. this way, ” cocks her head to be followed as she goes through the foyer towards the kitchen, pausing to sit the box down and open the sliding glass door to the fenced in backyard to let the dogs out.
‟ so, to what do i owe this pleasure ? not that you need a reason, ” minty asks once she'd closed the door behind her, puttering around until she'd found the wine goblets. she placed two down onto the island, holding a hand out for the wine.
There is a semblance of amusement on Vera's face as she watched the other assimilate so easily into a holiday Vera herself had never saw much appeal in. The tinsel in her hair, the way her eyes sparkled along the tinsel in the sunlight, the fact that every time she gazed upon Minty, she couldn't help but feel as if she was glowing magnificently for all to see. It probably should be noted that this notion was simply constructed from her deep adoration for the nymph, and very rarely was this star alight with joy. But in the simplest interactions, Minty was a guiding light to the home the two of them found themselves in, the lives they had both settled into. “Cats hiss at me still, I'm afraid.” Vera smiled, watching the other balance effortlessly on one leg while managing about three different things at once. “If you're sure — you know how beasts and I tend to…” She trailed off as she considered the nicest way to put it. “Clash.” She decided, slipping into the home and pressing herself firm against one of the walls, somehow finding the hard surface safer than trespassing on the dogs' territory. “It is gorgeous — you must be so happy here.” Vera smiled, following close behind Minty when she moved, eyes downward at her feet to ignore the gaze of over excited hounds. They seemed friendly enough, though, her scent was making them far more curious than she would like. Still, for her dear friend, she would endure it.
At the mention of her arrival, Vera set the rest of her welcoming goods on the island for the other to see. “Twas time for me to offer my congratulations for your house. And help you make it feel more like a home and less a shell.” She paused, looking around at the half unpacked house as she unscrewed the cork. “Though, it seems I am a little late on the last part.” With the cork open, she poured the liquor into the goblets provided, admiration for the glasses almost distracting enough she over poured. “Do you want help? I can't promise I have an eye for the holiday design, but I can go where you tell me.” She nodded.
where: inkspell who: mercy & valeriya (@velmortis)
Mercy always found her window shopping in kairos. It had become something of a crutch for her since she first moved here — the steady traffic of shopping, the window displays ever changing, but captivating enough that she could be pleased every time. She was standing outside a decadent shop she couldn't afford, probably for the fourth time this month, in awe of the stitching on the sun dress in the window. She passed by the seamstress shop in lieu of a bookshop she had begun to frequent. Routine was important to her, kept her from straying into the moors too deep, kept her from remembering the horror of her first hunt all over again. Pain and death could dance on her fingertips if she stayed idle for too long — visions could haunt her around every corner. But inkspell? She could get lost in the pages of books for hours.
Yet today, it wasn't the books that caught the strega's eyes, but the woman donned exquisitely from top to bottom in what she could only imagine was a custom design. Her own embroidery was no match for this stitchwork, and her amazement made her naturally gravitate toward the other. “Sorry—” She said when she realized her curiosity was bordering on intrusiveness. “I didn't mean to stare — it's just that garment is so lovely.” Her lips tilt upward, hiding the sadness with well timed precision. “Is it custom? Do you know that tailor?” Mercy tilted her head in curiosity, her fingers idly rubbing on the embroidery on her jeans as she awaited a response.
where: elysian blooms who: vera & siripha (@trvnquils)
Coincidences were few and far between for a woman as old as Eurydice — chance and fate were games mortals were able to play, but she had retired from them. So, it was bizarre to see Siripha amongst the lovely florals of elysian blooms, the moment almost took her by surprise. But rationale told her kairos was small, and people were not stationary like the plants she observed. A creature — whatever kind of creature Siripha really was — had no set schedule that she could no of. “Happy days, Siripha.” Her eyes watched the other in mild curiosity.
“Are the plants speaking to you?” She asked, a small smile pulling on her features after a moment of quiet reflection. “I can almost hear them singing.” Vera's lips almost turned into a smile, distant memories of dancing in the forest as a young maiden tickling at the older corners of her brain. The store was as close as she could get to an actual forest, her own fears keeping her away from what once might have been called sanctuary.
where: the stoa of mysteries who: vera & ceren (@velmortis)
It had been a moment since she had lost Ceren — perhaps it was simply their schedules had not aligned, different shifts and projects keeping them away from one another. But something hadn't been sitting right with Vera, something in the air told her something was amiss. And so, like any good creature would, she sought out Ceren, looking for the former avian shifter in every dark hallway and by every treasure trove of artifacts. She found her just by one of the entrances of the stoa, and Vera offered a gentle smile in the other's direction. “You've been like a bit of a ghost.” Vera teased, lips twisting upward, unaware of the change in the other. Unaware of the trials she must be going through now — time would change this, of course. “What mystery has had you so well hidden from me this time?”
it's a form of indulgence for him to frequent ambrosia. the different drinks that were offered were some of the best on the island but nick liked to choose his normal. an old fashioned with extra orange slices and bitters in his usual larger glass since one round wouldn't be enough. he looked over at the person questioning with his eyebrows raised and looked down to his drink then back. ❛ not sure. this is an old fashioned but i don't get the usual cup. i like not having to come back and order constantly. ❜ as high as his tolerance was it was annoying to get to the bar just to go back a few minutes later for the exact drink.
Rome nodded as the other spoke, his uncertainty remaining but his interest piqued. “That's a big glass.” He agreed, eyeing it not in envy, but curiosity. How had the other swindled a bartender into giving him a high content of alcohol for one old fashioned? Perhaps there was some unspoken rule between the other and the staff, or maybe he just paid an obscene amount to be able to have his own sort of solitude — Rome should probably stop speculating on a perfect stranger. “It's good to be able to kick back and relax.” He offered, tilting his cup in the direction of the other. “Though the size of the drink just tells me you either hold your alcohol extremely well or are a lot of fun to be around at parties.” His grin is lopsided and easy, carelessly nonchalant as always.
