#<- he'd mentally fuck with Tir just for shits and gigs

[thrpr0phetuseek]

[ feeling his breath, his teeth and then hearing about the infamous rodent, they make a swift decision of grabbing his face, pressing multiple kisses wherever they could before holding him in a much longer one against his lips ]

[ they press a few more of varying length to his lips before pulling away with a smile ]

"Fish."

[ they tease him, gently pecking his lips once more ]

ooc: holiday-related asks you say... I'm here to deliver! also, I hope you have loads of fun despite the business!! :D /gen

Holidays were always a fun part of the year for Odysseus; mostly due to the fact it meant extended time with family and friends. Often including extravagant meals and games at his palace.

While the past twenty years had events that made the holidays rather miserable the war, being stuck on an island, and getting into conflicts with the gods there was a few people Odysseus could still spend his time with.

The siren doesn't announce themselves as they approach the prophet's island, deciding to make their presence known at first by getting just close enough to brush his fingers against Tiresias' sides in a surprise tickle.

[ in the underworld, time can feel—and normally is—pretty irrelevant. It doesn’t get colder nor warmer, and there’s no signs for whenever the seasons change. Once dead, your sense of time and space begins to fade away, especially because there’s no need for it. Even still, Tiresias acutely aware that there were certain times more people were excited about one day or week than others, and it didn’t often take a genius to see when that time came around, much less a prophet ]

[ usually they sat closest to their willow tree, or at the highest peak of their isle, but through more visits, they have begun sitting down by the rocky shores more often. Particularly, they have found a perch for themselves on a rock not too far from the island, but not attached to it, either. It was a peaceful rock, and where they sat now, blindly zoning out and instead tuning in to the birds, and the whispers of the souls ]

[just-a-mer]

To say Odysseus was tempted would be an understatement. The joy of being victorious, whether from a long war or a simple last laugh, was one he couldn't quite explain. Still, he allowed himself to simply lean his weight against the prophet with a quiet huff.

"I won't bite your shoulder, then." He hummed, taking a moment to right his breathing from the attack before nipping Tiresias' ear. "Mouse." The siren mutters, unable to simply let the dare slip past without taking the bait, as one would say.

ooc: holiday-related asks you say... I'm here to deliver! also, I hope you have loads of fun despite the business!! :D /gen

Holidays were always a fun part of the year for Odysseus; mostly due to the fact it meant extended time with family and friends. Often including extravagant meals and games at his palace.

While the past twenty years had events that made the holidays rather miserable the war, being stuck on an island, and getting into conflicts with the gods there was a few people Odysseus could still spend his time with.

The siren doesn't announce themselves as they approach the prophet's island, deciding to make their presence known at first by getting just close enough to brush his fingers against Tiresias' sides in a surprise tickle.

[ in the underworld, time can feel—and normally is—pretty irrelevant. It doesn’t get colder nor warmer, and there’s no signs for whenever the seasons change. Once dead, your sense of time and space begins to fade away, especially because there’s no need for it. Even still, Tiresias acutely aware that there were certain times more people were excited about one day or week than others, and it didn’t often take a genius to see when that time came around, much less a prophet ]

[ usually they sat closest to their willow tree, or at the highest peak of their isle, but through more visits, they have begun sitting down by the rocky shores more often. Particularly, they have found a perch for themselves on a rock not too far from the island, but not attached to it, either. It was a peaceful rock, and where they sat now, blindly zoning out and instead tuning in to the birds, and the whispers of the souls ]

[thrpr0phetuseek]

[ they laugh, smiling as they watch their lover, before slowly giving up the attack ]

"There. Call me a mouse again, I dare you."

[ they poke Ody in the side, realizing his limpness from the relentless attack, and they pull them right against them, giving him a close, long kiss before guiding his head to their shoulder ]

"You're limp as a doll, love. I didn't intend to get you that well, but oh well. Rest. But don't you go biting my shoulder again, I'm trusting you."

[ with one more tease, they ruffle his hair, kissing behind his ear then his neck and shoulder ]

ooc: holiday-related asks you say... I'm here to deliver! also, I hope you have loads of fun despite the business!! :D /gen

Holidays were always a fun part of the year for Odysseus; mostly due to the fact it meant extended time with family and friends. Often including extravagant meals and games at his palace.

While the past twenty years had events that made the holidays rather miserable the war, being stuck on an island, and getting into conflicts with the gods there was a few people Odysseus could still spend his time with.

The siren doesn't announce themselves as they approach the prophet's island, deciding to make their presence known at first by getting just close enough to brush his fingers against Tiresias' sides in a surprise tickle.

[ in the underworld, time can feel—and normally is—pretty irrelevant. It doesn’t get colder nor warmer, and there’s no signs for whenever the seasons change. Once dead, your sense of time and space begins to fade away, especially because there’s no need for it. Even still, Tiresias acutely aware that there were certain times more people were excited about one day or week than others, and it didn’t often take a genius to see when that time came around, much less a prophet ]

[ usually they sat closest to their willow tree, or at the highest peak of their isle, but through more visits, they have begun sitting down by the rocky shores more often. Particularly, they have found a perch for themselves on a rock not too far from the island, but not attached to it, either. It was a peaceful rock, and where they sat now, blindly zoning out and instead tuning in to the birds, and the whispers of the souls ]