#Ooc — yk this helps with seasonal depression

[just-a-mer]

The siren had learned, over the years, how to mask his presence and move with the water to create a sort of bond in silence. With the prophet's proximity to the gentle lap of the waves, it created a perfect series of plans in his head.

He places his bag on the sand to avoid any accidental damage to its contents, thinking over the possibilities before settling on a simple idea. One that brought a mischievous smile to his lips.

Odysseus crept close, gaze momentarily lingering on the staff nearby before returning to their star. They might get bonked for this, and they almost felt bad about disturbing the peace. Almost. He gives Tiresias a generous half a second to notice his presence before biting down on their shoulder. It's not enough to draw blood or risk bruising, but not light enough to be considered a nip, either. Simply an Ody bite formed from an overwhelming sense of adoration.

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 ]