#annesa

[nachosforfree]

they’re girlfriends

[incorrectdragonquestbuilders]

‪Annesa: I sleep with a gun under my pillow

‪Warwick: I sleep with a knife

‪Malroth: You both are pathetic.‬

‪Warwick: Oh yeah? What do you sleep with?‬

‪Malroth: The Builder

[nachosforfree]

She lived mostly up on the surface. Everyday her feet felt the dry grass of Mesonia’s outermost layer, helping various farmers and traveling from village to village. It was her job, as the Goddess of crops.

Hephnie watched her, today, hiding in the shade of a tree, with the added coverage of a sunhat. The beautiful young goddess lifted a heavy basket of corn she’d helped gather, giving a toothy smile to a nearby farmer. He said something to her, but her eyes drifted over to Hephnie. She smiled again, a smaller, sweeter one, before looking away and answering the farmer.

Soon, she’d put the corn down with the rest of the gathering, and then made her way over to Hephnie.

“Hello, sweet flower,” She said, taking Hephnie’s cold hand and pressing a kiss to it.

Hephnie smiled, her cheeks heating up at the gesture, “Afternoon, Annesa.”

Annesa leaned against the tree, placing a piece of wheat in her mouth and looking like a stereotypical farm girl.

They stood in a calm, pleasant silence for a few moments before Annesa let out a soft breath, “I never get sick of it.”

“Of farming?”

“Yeah,” Annesa chewed on the wheat before pulling it out of her mouth. “I know I’m, like, made for it, but man I love it. The heat of the sun, the feel of the veggies and the weight of the baskets. You should try it sometime.”

Hephnie looked down at her folded hands, and shook her hands, “I’m not good with plants. They die as soon as I touch them.”

She was the Goddess of famine, after all.

Annesa hummed in acknowledgement, and glanced at Hephnie, “You want me to come back to Hell with you?”

“I never said anything about that.”

“S’not often of you to watch me so closely, Hephnie, not unless you’re missing me.”

Hephnie felt her face heat up again. She looked away, towards the corn field, and she felt Annesa’s yellow eyes tearing into the back of her head.

“You know I can’t ever stay long. I don’t want the crops to die.”

“We’re in the later half of autumn,” Hephnie pointed out softly. “You could stay over the winter.”

“It’s bad luck.” Annesa knew she was being cold, and maybe even unfair, but she didn’t want anything to happen to the farmers and their villages. Her mother assured her that they’d done fine before Annesa was born, even in the wintertime, but the young Goddess didn’t want to risk it.

“What’s luck to a God?”

Hephnie finally looked back at Annesa, their eyes meeting and having a silent battle. A silent plea, and silent defiance. Finally, Annesa gave in a looked away, a heavy sigh leaving her as she scanned the now empty fields.

“I’ll go with you, but I’m going to come up to the surface every few days and check on things.”

Hephnie’s frown lifted into a soft smile. She took Annesa’s warm hands into hers, and pressed their foreheads together. Annesa let herself smile, too, and she shut her eyes as they stood there together.

“Let me pack some of my things,” Annesa said, pulling away from Hephnie, “Then we’ll go.”

The other Goddess nodded and adjusted her sunhat, turning away from the setting sun. Annesa pulled out her staff, glowing white with three sharp points at the end, and let it carry her off to her home, the Palace of the Pantheon. She gathered the warmest clothing she had, thick coats, pants, and gloves, and packed some food to keep her at her strongest in the under.

She walked down her mother’s hall of the large palace. It was technically hers as well, but only the Spring Goddess, Korack’s, statue stood at the end of it. Korack was nowhere to be found, so Annesa found some paper and left a note, asking her mother to contact her if anything went wrong with the Mesonians’ harvests of this year while she was gone.

Finally, she felt ready to go down to the under with Hephnie. She looped the strap of the bag holding her supplies over her staff, and lifted the staff onto her shoulder. While most of the older Gods disliked using human technology, Annesa and Hephnie were much younger, and had cellphones of their own. Annesa pulled hers out and texted Hephnie that she was ready. In a nearby wall, the outline of a door formed, glowing a deep red.

Annesa took in a deep breath and approached the door. There was no handle or knob, so she simply pressed her hand to it, and pushed. It creaked open, and Annesa stepped into the front room of the Castle of the Under. She’d made it to Hephnie’s home, Hell.