#naiad antics

[imaginejolls]

naiad antics have been getting a lot of love recently so here's another throwback to this excellent creek <3

[greek-mythology-utmv]

Swap

Species/figure: Dryad (Nature spirit)

Pronouns: he/it

Danger: Decent (2/6)

Power: Strong (3/6)

Magic: Strong (3/6)

Height: 5'2"/157 cm

Abilities: Communication with plants and wildlife, accelerated plant growth, control of plants

Diet: Absorbs energy from host forest as well as sunlight and water. Health is directly related to health of surrounding woods.

Personally: Upbeat, energetic, and overconfident to a fault. Tends to have a black-and-white view of the world that often leads to difficulties in relationships but is still determined to make friends everywhere he goes.

Story: Swap considers himself to be the leader of the other dryad and woodfolk, and most are too charmed or too tired of it to argue. Views the woodland as the best possible climate for all creatures and wants to spread it across the world, seemingly unaware of how this might negatively impact others. When he's not training or attempting to expand the forest, Swap's usually hanging around Ccino's cafe to meet everyone new who comes to town. When it does make a friend, that person is often plagued by bountiful gifts of fruit and flowers.

Stretch

Species/figure: Naiad (water spirit)

Pronouns: he/it

Danger: Decent (2/6)

Power: Weak (1/6)

Magic: Formidable (4/6)

Height: 6'5"/195 cm

Abilities: Communication with marine life, control of water

Diet: None; health related to state of the river (pollution, water levels, etc)

Personally: Fairly friendly and laid back, prefers to watch his brother's antics from afar but will step in if needed. Happy to help out any travelers, especially if he doesn't have to get up from his chair or actually, y'know, do anything. Master of puns.

Story: Looks after the lesser water spirits and marine life in the area...or is supposed to, anyway. Mostly just relaxes at Ccino's cafe, entertaining everyone with terrible jokes. Protective of his brother.

[sunnyapollonjabrigidotter]

Maye sat alone by the edge of a quiet stream, the waters reflecting the soft glow of twilight. The sounds of the forest were distant tonight, as if the trees themselves were mourning, and the air was still, heavy with memories that she could never shake. The stream had always brought her comfort, its gentle flow a reminder that life, even after all its horrors, would continue. But tonight, it did little to soothe her heart. Her mind was deep in a place she rarely allowed herself to visit—back to the days when her family was still alive, before the Christians came.

She had been so young then, her world full of color and light. Her mother, wise and graceful, had been a leader among the Maenads, respected and revered. Her father had been a satyr, much like Tyras, though less serious, more playful. He was a gentle soul, despite his wild nature, always making Maye laugh with his antics. Her siblings—two younger brothers—had been full of energy, always running through the woods, chasing after butterflies or playing in the sparkling pools of water where Naiads danced. Those days felt like another lifetime, distant and unreachable.

She closed her eyes and let the memories wash over her like the stream’s current. She could see them all so clearly—the way her mother’s hair shimmered in the sunlight, the sound of her father’s laughter echoing through the trees, the joy and freedom they had all shared. Their small community had been a sanctuary, a place where the old gods were honored, where the wild was revered, and where their existence, though secret, had been beautiful.

But then, the peace had been shattered.

Maye remembered the day the Christians came—zealots, fueled by their belief that their God was the only true one, that all who worshiped the old ways were abominations that needed to be purged. They had arrived with torches and swords, their eyes cold and unyielding, their hearts filled with hate. The forest that had once been her haven had become a place of terror and death.

Her family had fought. They had resisted as best they could, but the Christians were relentless, their numbers overwhelming. Maye had watched in horror as her brothers were struck down, their playful energy snuffed out in an instant. Her father had tried to protect them, his once joyful spirit replaced by a ferocity Maye had never seen before. He had fought valiantly, but even he could not stand against the onslaught. Maye could still hear the sound of his last breath, the way he had collapsed to the forest floor, his body broken.

Her mother had been the last to fall. She had stood tall, her face etched with both sorrow and defiance, chanting prayers to Dionysus even as the Christians surrounded her. They had called her a witch, a heathen, and they had struck her down without mercy. But she had died with her faith intact, her final words a plea to the gods to protect Maye.

Maye had been forced to watch it all, hidden in the shadows, unable to move, unable to help. She had been powerless, her heart shattering with each loss, her soul filling with a rage and grief that would never fully heal. She had wanted to run to them, to fight, to die alongside them. But her mother’s last act had been to shield her from the Christians’ eyes, to keep her hidden so that she might live.

When the Christians had finally left, satisfied that they had purged the forest of its "pagan evil," Maye had crawled from her hiding place. The forest had been eerily quiet, the only sound the crackle of dying embers and the soft whisper of the wind through the trees. She had found their bodies—her brothers, her father, her mother—all lying still, their eyes closed in eternal rest. Maye had knelt beside them, her tears falling like rain, her heart breaking in ways she hadn’t known were possible.

She had buried them herself, deep within the forest they had loved so much. She had laid them to rest beneath an ancient oak, marking their graves with stones and flowers. She had prayed to the old gods, begging them to watch over her family in the afterlife, to keep them safe in the lands beyond.

But Maye had not been the same after that day. The lightness in her heart had dimmed, replaced by a cold, hard resolve. She had vowed that she would never allow herself to be so helpless again. She had trained, honed her skills, and embraced the wildness within her. She had become a fierce protector of the old ways, determined to keep their traditions alive, even in the face of the relentless Christian oppression.

And though she had found love with Tyras, though she had forged a new path for herself, the memory of her family’s death still haunted her. She could never forget their faces, their laughter, their love. Nor could she forget the way their lives had been stolen from them by those who saw only darkness in the beauty of their world.

Maye opened her eyes, staring at the stream once more. The water flowed on, its course unchanged by the sorrow that had marked her life. She knew that she could not dwell forever in the past, but there were nights like this—nights when the memories rose up unbidden, refusing to be silenced. She would carry them with her always, the ghosts of her family never far from her heart.

But they were not just memories of pain. They were also memories of love, of joy, of a time when the world had been full of magic and wonder. And that, more than anything, was what she chose to remember. Her family had been taken from her, but their spirits lived on in the forest, in the trees, in the wind that whispered through the leaves. She could still feel them, still hear their voices in the quiet moments when the world seemed to stand still.

They had been her past, but they were also her strength. And as long as she carried them with her, they would never truly be gone.

[thesibyllinebooks]

The New Yorkers (Part 25)

Percy felt sick to his stomach as he looked at the lake. It was a sickly, bright green color. Chiron had explained the water was growing more and more toxic by the day. Luckily, the campers in the infirmary would be fine. But Percy couldn’t help but think about all the fish, plants, and naiads that were uprooted or worse, killed. It made him hate Zeus.  It also made him hate his father a tiny bit for putting the aquatic life in jeopardy. 

Annabeth squeezed his hand in sympathy. The look on her face was equally pained. “We’ll fix all this,” she whispered sincerely. Then louder, she said to Chiron, “this is ridiculous. And the smell, that can’t be healthy either.” The lake smelled like a vat of toxic waste. Fumes rose in spirals of curling green smoke.

The centaur nodded. “We’ve tried everything we can. The Demeter and Apollo children have been working overtime to discover a cure. But as you both know, godly curses are sometimes irreversible.” They kept walking. Percy looked around the grounds. He and Annabeth had revisited multiple times over the years. The camp more or less looked the same as it did when he’d been a camper there years ago. He remembered the much better times he had at camp- training with his friends, singing around the campfire, strawberry picking, kissing Annabeth at the bottom of the now poisoned lake... Not all of the memories were wonderful, though. They’d had to fight to defend that camp with their lives on more than one occasion. Percy had lost friends on those very grounds. He hated to think that more lives would be lost.

“But we can’t just let this happen,” Annabeth persisted. “I mean, I can’t imagine how sick you are of the gods acting like this. They’ve left you to babysit their kids for millennia.” Annabeth had spent half her life at Camp Half-Blood. Growing up, Chiron was the closest thing to a father she’d ever had. Chiron had done more to turn her into the person she was than either of her parents had. 

“Train them,” Chiron corrected her. “Though sometimes, there isn’t much of a difference.”

As they walked to the Big House, a couple campers waved at them. Percy was sure there wasn’t a single camper who hadn’t heard of him or Annabeth. He hated the celebrity status. After all, he’d just done his duty as a demigod, if it could even be called that. He hated to think any of the campers would put themselves in harm’s way just to live up to his reputation, especially if the oncoming war became a reality. None of it was worth it.

Chiron’s hooves clopped on the wooden porch. “I’m not going to beat around the bush any longer,” he said. “I know the two of you are here because you refuse to heed your parents’ advice and stay out of this.”

“How can we?” Annabeth responded, her expression turning dark. “We know what it’s like to be used by the gods. We’re not letting that happen to anyone else.” Percy nodded in agreement. 

Chiron gestured for them to take the conversation inside. “Yes, which is understandable, but you’re retired. You know how it is. There’s an entire new generation of demigods-”

“They’re kids,” Percy interrupted. He knew what it felt like to be a child at the whim of the gods. He didn’t wish it on his worst enemy, who coincidentally, were the gods at the moment.

“Quite a few demigods don’t even make it to your age,” Chiron continued. “That’s a blessing in itself. That you and Percy can be safe and happy-”

“My mother took that happiness away from me. You know how I felt my entire life. You know I felt like no one loved me. She didn’t care, and she let me feel that way again all because she didn’t want me to jump into her war. She didn’t have a problem with it before,” Annabeth insisted. 

A look of sympathy crossed Chiron’s face. “But she was correct. Even I’d be a fool to act like you wouldn’t do anything for Percy,” Chiron said. “I’ve witnessed it for years.”

“That doesn’t make it right,” Percy stepped in. “That’s our choice to make, not the gods’.” He looked to Annabeth. The fierce determination in her eyes was there. He nodded to her, letting her know it was time to share her plan with Chiron. 

“Chiron, I have a request,” Annabeth said. “It’s going to sound stupid but hear me out.”

Chiron looked like he wanted to sigh out of exhaustion. “Yes?”

“Move my siblings out of the Athena cabin,” Annabeth said. “There doesn’t need to be a Cabin Six anymore. They can stay in the Hermes cabin or the Ares cabin- or let them choose, it really doesn’t matter.”

Chiron’s eyebrows furrowed. His tail twitched like it was swatting an imaginary fly. “For what purpose?” he asked. 

“No more reverence to Athena,” Annabeth said firmly. “That’s where her center of power is strongest at camp. There shouldn’t be any more offerings to her at dinner, or to Zeus. No more using her battle strategies- the Ares kids have plenty-”

“Annabeth, fading the essence of a god isn’t easy work,” Chiron said simply. “Especially the two most prominent gods in the pantheon. It’s risky as well. Incurring the wrath of the gods could be dangerous.”

“It’ll be less dangerous the weaker they become,” Percy reasoned. “Annabeth and I went to Olympus. We asked them ourselves. They aren’t backing down. This is the only way to keep the campers safe.” 

The campers didn’t pay much homage to Zeus on a regular basis and with Jason and Thalia gone, his cabin was empty. But still, he was the King of the Gods, which held a good bit of weight. The Athena kids would be the bigger problem. Athena had multiple children at camp, and they revered their mother fiercely, maybe even more than Annabeth had at that age. 

“Just let me talk to them,” Annabeth said. “Everyone deserves a choice. This is what I feel like needs to be done but if they disagree, I’ll hear them out. I promise.” In truth, Annabeth hoped to all the gods (except Athena and Zeus) that her siblings wouldn’t argue. They were smart and logical, like her. If she explained the imminent danger they were in, they would have to understand, wouldn’t they? She hoped their fear of their mother didn’t outweigh their reasoning or self-preservation.

Chiron was silent for a long while. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. It was probably something along the lines of how sick and tired he was of the gods’ antics and involving their children.

“Frank is getting in touch with the praetors at Camp Jupiter. They’re going to empty out the temple to Jupiter. The Minerva temple well...” Percy trailed off. It was no secret that Athena was basically chopped liver to the Romans. At least that would make their work easier on that front.

“This is dangerous,” Chiron repeated. “But it’s not my job to put the campers at any further risk.

“Is that a yes?” Annabeth asked. If Percy squinted, he could see the tiniest bit of hope in her eyes. Percy couldn’t imagine making the decision to do the same to Poseidon. But, he was way closer to his father. Annabeth appeared determine to erase her mother at all costs. He wouldn’t dare ask, but he wondered how much of it was out of desire to prevent the war, and how much of it was personal.

Chiron waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll allow you to talk to them, not coerce them. If they agree, we’ll bring it up to the rest of the camp.” 

“That’s great,” Percy said to Annabeth. “Thanks, Chiron.”

Chiron nodded solemnly. “I’ll call an emergency meeting with Cabin Six. As dangerous and unprecedented as this is, I’d expect nothing less from you.”

“Of course,” Annabeth agreed. Her mind was already going a mile a minute, ready to convince her siblings to do what was necessary. After all, Athena may have been able to take Annabeth’s memory, but she couldn’t take any of their powers or skill away from them. The best she could do was remover her essence from any enchanted objects she blessed them with. And, other than her Yankees Cap which didn’t work anyway, Annabeth didn’t know of any. Athena could kill them, though. However, the weaker she became, the less likely that would be. 

Annabeth tried to decide the best route to convince her siblings. After all, only the majority of them would have to vote to cut ties with their mother. As long as she could get through to the counselor, her younger sister Sophia, hopefully the rest of the siblings would fall in line. Hopefully, they wouldn’t say one thing and then turn around an pray to their mother. That would certainly throw a wrench in her plans.

“Stay with me?” Annabeth asked Percy. Even though he didn’t like talking to people much, his demeanor was a lot calmer, which would be necessary during such a tense conversation. 

Percy nodded as if to say, duh. “Where else would I go?” he questioned. Annabeth smiled dumbly. Sometimes, she thought she was an idiot to forget that Percy would never willingly leave her side. 

Chiron looked between the two of them. The tiniest of smiles spread across his face. “Great, I’ll call them in now. And Annabeth? It’s admirable that you would make such a sacrifice in order to help the Camp.”

It wasn’t much of a sacrifice to Annabeth. After years of enduring her mother’s apathy, it felt a lot more like justice. 

[skelimagines]

Then how do you feel about fairies?

The fae is a large and expansive group consisting of classic fairies, gnomes, elves, dryads/naiads, and many, many more.

If I remember right from me researching them in the past, fairies are the more human-sized cousins of pixies, and are a lot less playful with their antics. Like humans and elves, fairies are individuals who don’t really have a main situation. They’re damaged by pollution and iron like all fae and as such would be hard to find. A decent amount will try to trick you into being trapped though so don’t think your safe. ~Mod Feral

[cinnaminsvga]

forever fools | tddup!spinoff

→ summary: jieun learns that saying goodbye is a two-way street, and sometimes it's easy to forget to look both ways before crossing.

{or alternatively: here's some sad lesbian angst ft. sana from twice}

→ genre: angst, slight fluff/humor, tddup!au → word count: 5.8K → a/n: this was commissioned by my lovely patron haley, to whom i am forever grateful for. i don't know if this is what you were expecting, but hopefully you enjoy it!! thank you again for being such a great star in my life!! if anyone else is interested in commissioning me for works like this, head over to my patreon (link in description) for more details. without further ado, here’s some lesbian greek goddess angst lmao!!

There’s something strange about looking at an empty bedroom, Jieun thinks as she snaps her last suitcase closed with a note of finality reverberating in the still air. The normally cluttered closet stands forlornly against the wall like a shell, the floor looks pristinely white for the first time in a century, and the window sill is devoid of all the little succulents that Demeter had given her from the first day she had arrived at Olympus. Above all, what unsettles her the most is the fact that the room did not look like it has ever been lived in at all. Jieun shakes her head, a small smile of amusement gracing her face. The cleaning naiads truly do not hold any prisoners when it comes to dust and dirt.

As she looks around her room, it is hard for her to keep the nostalgia at bay. After all, for the longest time, Jieun has called this place home––an oasis away from the terrible migraines and playful chaos that happens on a regular basis while working as an Olympian. It is the one place where she can escape when Zeus’ antics would get a little bit too much. While she did sleep in the same bed as him on most nights (not quite out of her own desire, but rather, because of a sense of duty that compels her to stay faithful to Zeus), she always did like slinking away to her little haven whenever she had the time.

She does not know what this room will be used for, since Y/N has expressed her desire to stay by Zeus’ side. Jieun chuckles at the memory of a red-faced Y/N when she had explained her reasons, saying something along the lines of “I need to keep both eyes on that man-sized toddler” even though her rapidly beating heart and flushed cheeks said otherwise. Oh, the beauty of young love.

In the midst of her contemplations, she hears a knock outside her window pane despite her room being high up in the heavens. Normally, most mortals would be confused as to who would have the ability to climb thousands of meters up into the air, but since Jieun is a goddess (or soon to be an ex-goddess, to be exact), things like this are hardly ever out of the ordinary. Even more so, Jieun knows exactly who the intruder is, because no one else would be crazy enough to disturb her privacy and wear those gaudy winged Gucci slippers with a stupid grin on their handsome face.

“Someone called for the bellboy?” Hermes says in lieu of a greeting as Jieun opens the window for him to enter through. Hermes flops down from the window sill, his Gucci slides thumping loudly against the carpeted floor. He takes the suitcase away from Jieun’s hand, who almost seems reluctant to let go. Noticing her mournful face, Hermes steps closer to her, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly.

“Hey, you doing okay, Hera? I know it must be weird. Hell, I think it’s gonna be weird not hearing you nag me all the time,” Hermes jokes, but his voice drips with sadness. In truth, Jieun always did appreciate Hermes’ presence, especially since the two of them had become gods at around the same time period. Jieun has promised herself that she wouldn’t cry in front of the others, but somehow seeing the usually upbeat god looking so forlorn was making her tear ducts moisten against her will.

“Nah, I’m fine. We all knew this was coming, sooner or later. Besides,” Jieun huffs, pinching the younger’s cheek with a smirk. He whines, but doesn’t do anything to push her hand away. “Even when I die, something tells me that you’re going to be visiting me in the Underworld more often than you did when I was here on Olympus.”

At that, the trickster god laughs, his ears reddening at the accusation that the two of them knew was true. He shrugs his shoulders, the sadness abated for now. There is more than enough time to be sad in the future. “Perhaps. Don’t tell Yoongi though, because I’m going to be using the excuse that I miss you for the next millennia until he starts to get suspicious of my frequent visits.”

“Something tells me he wouldn’t mind either way,” Jieun smirks, ruffling the boy’s hair in endearment. Hermes gives her a wicked grin, neither agreeing nor denying the claim.

“This is the last of your belongings, right? No need to call the Anemoi to help bring your stuff down to your new home?” Hermes says, lifting the suitcase to check its weight. He whistles when he feels how light it is. “Damn. You really don’t have a lot of stuff on you, huh? You’ve been living here for the past 1000 years so I had expected at least a few more bags, if I’m being honest.”

Jieun shrugs, gesturing around her room. “This bedroom was honestly just as much as a storage space as it was a hiding spot, and there wasn’t a lot of room to keep things over the centuries. Plus, I was never into material things, so the things I have are mostly necessities rather than memorabilia.”

Hermes shakes his head, a fond smile on his lips. “Ah, the frugal Asian in you really hasn’t disappeared even after all these years, huh?”

“You can take the girl out of Asia, but you can’t take the Asian out of the girl,” Jieun laughs, pushing Hermes out of her room. “Now get out of my room––I have to start doing last minute preparations for the wedding and I can’t do that with an annoying twink in my room.”

“Who are you calling annoying? That’s no way to treat your bellboys! A tip would be very appreciated, by the way,” Hermes whines, but he slips out of the window regardless.

“I’ll give you the tip of my strap if you keep delaying! Now shoo!”

Hermes snorts, winking salaciously at her. “Oh, you know what this baby boy likes, huh?” he says, guffawing loudly when Jieun goes to grab his ankles from her window sill. Floating outside with her suitcase in tow, Hermes gives her one final goofy salute before he is off to deposit the last of her belongings in her new mortal abode.

Left to her own devices once more, Jieun walks over to her closet, where a single white dress hangs loosely like a ghost. She thumbs the fabric, an odd feeling rising up her chest at the sight of it. This is the dress that she would be wearing to the wedding, an heirloom that has been passed down for generations after each Hera has passed the torch to the next. She remembers the previous Hera wearing this exact dress during her union with the previous Zeus, remembers the way the dress had made her previous mentor look spectral in a way––as if she was already gone before she had even left.

The thought jars her, and she rips her hand away. She wipes her palms against her jeans, feeling sweat start to build for whatever reason.

Unwilling to stay in this empty room for much longer, Jieun is thinking of having some last minute checks with Y/N to see how she is holding up when two small bodies crash through the door in a flurry of limbs. Jieun hardly flinches when the two girls stand up in noisily, their giggles giving her the impression that they may not be as a sober as she hopes they would be. Demeter is the first one to straighten up long enough to shoot her a wide smile.

“Hera! What are you doing here being all mopey and sentimental? You’ve got a party to catch!” Demeter laughs, her potent intoxication causing sprouts to grow out of her head. Hestia smiles, more reserved than the younger (or was it elder? Demeter is certainly older when it came to human years) but clearly just as out of it, as she plucks the small plant and tucks it into her own ear.

“I’m not being mopey,” Jieun frowns, mopey. She gives the two other goddesses an appraising look. “And what party are you talking about? I’m assuming it’s my surprise farewell party from the Facebook event that our lovely Eos accidentally invited me to.”

Hestia gasps, slapping her head comically as she looks at Demeter in disbelief. “That stupid bitch! I told you that we should’ve used Eventbrite instead!”

“Either way,” Jieun interrupts, watching as the two continually sway on their feet. “That doesn’t explain why the two of you are already drunk out of your minds when the supposed party hasn’t even started.” She suspects they must have also gotten a hold of Dionysus’ secret stash of godly pot, because she knows the two girls aren’t exactly the lightest drinkers. Either that or the excessive amount of binge watching shitty Netflix shows has finally caused their limited brain cells to deplete.

“Who says the party hasn’t started?” Demeter grins, tugging Jieun by the wrist and out of her room. Before Jieun can turn to take one last look at her old bedroom, Hestia closes the door with a bang, and somehow Jieun knows that this might be one of the last times she’ll ever get to see it.

Hestia has the decency to shoot her a guilty look. “We weren’t purposefully gonna start the party before we brought you there, of course. But Wendy-unnie over here––” Demeter squawks at the use of her human name, slapping her shoulder playfully, but not appearing entirely as offended as Jieun had expected, “––saw that they were serving spiked nectar that Iris stole from Dionysus so really… Can you blame us?”

Jieun rolls her eyes playfully, a smirk gracing her lips. “Of course, that explains everything. How could I be so selfish?”

Demeter manhandles her until they reach the Chariot Room (which is basically just a garage with a mismatch of vehicles from every time period imaginable; they bypass the Hatsune Miku chariot with averted eyes.) They approach one of the more modern vehicles, parked near the exit of the garage. Jieun looks at the license plate and notices that its Artemis’ silver car that she uses when she does her nightly moon journey.

“Please tell me Artemis actually let you take her car and we’re definitely not going to hotwire it––aaaand of course you’re hotwiring it,” Jieun groans, watching helplessly as the two younger girls start doing who knows what to the poor car. If the car had been sentient, she is sure it would be filing a sexual harassment case with how much tinkering they were doing.

“It was her idea to host the party anyway, so sucks to be her!” Hestia says defensively, her brows furrowed in concentration as she conjures magical fire out of her hands to help… whatever it is that Demeter was doing. Jieun does not want to know where Demeter pulled out the tube of toothpaste from, and why it was needed to hotwire a car.

“I really don’t understand why we need to celebrate my departure anyway. It’s not like I’m leaving forever; in fact, I’m probably going to have to deadbolt my apartment to keep you vermin from breaching my privacy,” Jieun jokes, snickering when she sees the affronted look that Hestia shoots her. “What? You look at me as if I were lying.”

“Well, you look at me as if I haven’t been pestering you ever since I turned from drab ol’ human Yeri and into the banging goddess that I am today!” Hestia says, her eyes lighting up gleefully.

Jieun snorts. “You’re right. You’ve been a pain in my ass ever since you existed. How foolish of me to think otherwise.”

Seconds later, Hestia and Demeter make a noise of contentment when the car whirs to life, signalling that whatever they had done had miraculously worked. (Again, Jieun doesn’t want to know, and the less she knows, the easier it is for her to escape Artemis’ wrath later on.)

“But seriously,” Demeter begins, standing up and hopping into the driver’s seat. Before Jieun can even argue, Hestia takes the passenger seat, sticking her tongue out petulantly like the supposedly “banging” goddess that she was. “Artemis and Persephone planned this party mostly to get back on your good side after they got mad at you for making Y/N marry the thunder twerp. Which, I mean… Can you blame them? He’s a fucking loser and Y/N is… Well. Have you seen her ass?”

Jieun jumps into the backseat, a huff of air punched out of her lungs when she realizes she just sat on one of Artemis’ stray buttplugs, poking itself into the small of her back. Jieun gingerly picks it up, throwing it against the back of Hestia’s head. “Yes, I can blame them. At the end of the day, it’s my decision who succeeds me as Hera and I needed to choose quickly because my time was almost up. Y/N just so happened to make the perfect candidate, so they had no right to be angry at my decision.”

Demeter grumbles. “Yeah, I know you’re right. It’s just that we really thought you were on the lesbians’ sides... No wonder you never showed up to the blood compact, traitor,” Demeter says, no bite to her tone. The smirk on her face tells Jieun that she’s far from mad. “Still, I would’ve loved to have Y/N join our little dyke trysts. Do you think maybe she’s bi?”

“Who knows?” Jieun muses, staring out the window as Demeter clicks for the garage doors to open. The sunny open sky greets them as the three women start driving out of Olympus and to wherever it is that the party was located. If Jieun squints hard enough, she thinks she can see the mortals milling about on earth, where she’ll be in just a few more hours. A mortal, once more.

“And besides, there are other mortal girls that Artemis and Persephone can find,” Jieun says, looking away from the view to glance at Demeter’s reflection from the rear-view mirror. When the agricultural goddess notices, she gives her a knowing look.

Despite her inebriation, Demeter manages to safely drive them to the party, which happens to be the mansion where the nine Muses are known to live in.  Demeter parks the car haphazardly, uncaring for the rules of parallel parking and all codes of ethics as she takes up the entire driveway before turning off the ignition. Hestia is the first to jump out, stretching her legs and ready to race back towards the party.

“C’mon, slowpokes! The nectar is getting warm,” she calls out, rushing towards the door where the sounds of laughter and singing can be heard even from the garden.

“Remind me to keep her away from the alcohol during the wedding,” Jieun murmurs to Demeter. The other girl only grins wildly, and Jieun knows that there really isn’t any use depending on her when it comes to the topic of sobriety.

Jieun and Demeter follow after Hestia to find the party already in full swing. Demeter loudly announces over the din to tell everyone that the celebrant has arrived, and a chorus of welcome’s come from all around. Jieun flushes under the attention, never one to go to full out raging parties in the first place, least of all the ones dedicated to her. Regardless, she walks around to greet everyone, thanking them for coming despite their inebriation rendering most of them useless to anything other than them replying with raucous giggling and hugging.

Artemis and Persephone somehow find their way towards her, stumbling through the crowd and piling their drunken bodies onto her to capture her in the tightest bear hug imaginable. Jieun laughs under their assault, using up all her strength to pull away long enough to see that their faces are already decorated with lipstick smudges and other stains that Jieun has no desire to learn about.

“Jieeeeeeun, you came!” Artemis cries, rubbing her cheeks against Jieun’s. She already feels the lipstick rubbing itself uncomfortably against her skin, but she does not pull away out of politeness. “I thought you wouldn’t come!”

“And why is that?” Jieun asks, awkwardly patting the babbling younger as she starts to hiccup from both intoxication and excessive emotions. “Also, who told you that you’re allowed to call me by my human name, young lady? I’m still Hera to you until tomorrow evening.”

“Sorry, she’s a little tipsy,” Persephone giggles, prying herself and Artemis away from Jieun to let her take her first breath in over a minute. “But seriously Hera, we’re really sorry about how we acted with the whole Y/N thing. We shouldn’t have gone ballistic on you and called you a hetero on Twitter. That was definitely uncalled for and totally barbaric of us.”

“Don’t worry, kids. I was hardly phased by your insults,” Jieun smirks, giggling at the absolute sorrow and guilt contorting the archer goddess’ face. “Really.”

“But it’s so out of line! No one deserves to be called a het, not when you’re so fucking gorgeous and sexy and hey are you free tomorrow evening––” Artemis starts hiccuping incoherently, and Persephone has to wheel her away before she can embarrass herself further.

“We’ll talk later when I sober her up! Have fun tonight, okay? We’re willing to take our ‘punishment’ later for our terrible crimes, if you know what I mean.” Persephone winks, pushing her friend away to the kitchen, probably to get more drunk and grind against each other. Jieun stores away this scene away into her memory for blackmail later on.

After her encounter with the two hosts, Jieun decides to circle the rest of the room. She greets a few familiar faces, including the actual people who live in this mansion. The Muses that she greets are at various stages of drunk, but most of them welcome her warmly despite their incoherency. When Jieun enters the main dining hall, she can only watch worriedly as the Muse of comedy hangs precariously from the chandelier while wearing nothing but a silk black robe.

“Thalia, don’t make me fucking burn your clit off again! The chandelier is going break under your fat ass. Get down from there or else––SOMI!” Polymnia cries, almost missing a stray foot to the face. The crowd hoots at the display, egging the comedian on. “This is your last warning!”

Jieun chuckles at their antics, but she can’t help but notice that she has only seen eight of the sisters so far. Her palms begin to sweat, knowing full well who the missing Muse is and wonders if she might have chosen not to attend due to the argument that still lies fresh on both their minds. She feels the disappointment start to build up in her stomach, thinking that the Muse of tragedy truly wants to avoid her like she had feared.

After Jieun circles the whole living room to give her regards to all the other party-goers, she decides to head upstairs to one of the balconies to get some fresh air. She sees a few more straggling guests, most of them too preoccupied to properly respond to Jieun’s soft greetings since their faces are currently entrenched in other endeavors at the moment. Still, Jieun doesn’t mind as she passes by the bedrooms to the slide open the balcony door and allow the soft afternoon breeze to caress her face.

Since her eyes are closed when she welcomes the gentle wind to blow around her, she does not immediately notice two things.

One, there is a giant ice sculpture in Jieun’s perfect likeness, with all her curves and imperfections open to the world to see. The summer heat does not melt the sculpture, but this is not a surprise when it comes to the power of gods (plus, someone placed a small ice bath around it, though Jieun does not know why that would be of any help whatsoever.)

Two, she is not alone.

Melpomene stands idly by the edge of the balcony, her gaze trained away from Jieun. She knows that the Muse has noticed her presence, because her shoulders are hunched up in a way that only means that she is on guard and ready to flee at a moment’s notice. The Muse of tragedy stares up at the sky, neither of them saying a word as the two of them quietly listen to the muted music from the party downstairs and the sound of drunken naiads prancing wildly in the gardens.

The sun has begun to descend, but Jieun notices the way it slinks across the sky irregularly, almost as if a toddler were just slapping it across the sky like a tennis ball. Instead of the usual twilight transition that is familiar to most people, the sun appears to transform immediately into the moon, as if a light switch had been turned on and suddenly it was night time. The sky darkens immediately, and the world around them is bathed in stars.

Melpomene must have been sensed Jieun’s confusion because she offers up an explanation, voice scratchy from misuse. She sounds sober, unlike the rest of her sisters. “It’s Apollo. Artemis got him to take her shift as the moon for today,” she says, never once looking back at Jieun. She continues to stare at the random spirals that Jieun now knows is the work of Apollo’s disastrous driving skills. Poor kid.

“Well, he only did become the newest Apollo a few months ago. Although, I wouldn’t say that Artemis should have trusted him to do the night shift when he can hardly do his own day shift,” Jieun comments, pursing her lips as Apollo does a steep nosedive before thankfully going back on course.

Melpomene does not reply. The two of them stand in awkward silence, and Jieun has no idea how to break it. She wants desperately to speak to her, knowing that it wouldn’t sit well if she left Olympus knowing that one of her dearest friends stayed mad at her. She fidgets beside her, mouth opening and closing shut as she thinks of something to talk about.

“Hah, speaking of Apollo… Do you remember who came before him? I never even knew his human name,” Jieun starts, already beginning to spew out whatever nonsense comes to mind.

“Never really liked the sixth generation Apollo. He always gave off a lecherous vibe, and we were all so excited to see him leave. I remember how Hermes had gifted him a stink bomb disguised as a bath bomb for a goodbye gift… I could smell the stench all the way from Olympus. I’m lowkey worried that all of you are itching to kick me off as well and pull a stink bomb on me,” Jieun jokes, but her voice cracks imperceptibly, giving herself away.

Even though she tries to keep her voice lighthearted, deep down, she doesn’t even know if anyone will actually be sorry to see her gone. Sure, this party is dedicated to her, but that’s hardly a reason for her to believe that any of these people like her. Olympians are notorious for latching on to any reason to throw a party; hell, she solemnly remembers when Poseidon’s goldfish laid its first egg and they had partied for a whole week.

At the end of the day, she is just another mortal. Who is she to expect that anyone would remember her in a few thousand centuries?

There is something about her words and her tone that makes Melpomene snap out of her silence, eyes blazing with a fury so intense that it surprises Jieun. She gapes at the angry brunette, who corners her to the edge of the balcony until her butt bumps against the cool surface. When Jieun looks over her shoulder, she sees that the naiads from the garden have gone elsewhere, leaving the two of them alone.

Melpomene jabs her finger right into Jieun’s sternum, her hand shaking with emotion. “How fucking dare you insinuate that no one will miss you. How fucking dare you think that anyone would ever forget you!”

For a moment, Jieun is at a loss for words. Jieun splutters indignantly, wondering where Melpomene’s misplaced anger was coming from. She stares wide-eyed at the younger and wonders if her irritation stems from something more. “It was just a joke,” she says, lamely.

“A joke? Is that what you think everything is?” Melpomene laughs, and Jieun thinks the flower inside her heart wilts at the sound. It’s harsh, a sound wave that grates against her eardrums. The younger is never one to laugh without mirth, despite the nature of her role as the Muse of tragedy, but Jieun knows that the tormented tone in her voice is no longer because of the tragic tales she weaves in her stories––

It’s because of her.

“You betrayed us, didn’t you know? We all thought that we had more years to spend with you, and you just suddenly drop the bomb on us that your death day was coming,” she cries out, tears welling up in her eyes. Jieun’s hands itch to wipe them away. “Do you have any idea how terrible it is to find out that the person you love more than anyone in the world is going to leave you forever?”

Love. She loves her.

Somehow, the words don’t make sense to her.

“I’m not going to leave forever,” Jieun says instead, irises flitting about and unable to stay still. Her legs burn where they touch Melpomene’s own, and she wants to pull her closer and never let go. “I already told you last week that you’ll be able to visit me as a human until the Fates cut my string. I didn’t betray anyone.”

The tragedian’s nostrils flare, and she clutches Jieun’s shoulders tightly, as if she was afraid she would disappear if she didn’t hold on quick enough. When Jieun observes her closely, she notices the way her lips quiver with the effort of keeping it together. I did this to her, Jieun thinks sadly. Is this what love does?

“Did I mean nothing to you, then?” Melpomene murmurs, voice shaky as a leaf. She digs her nails into the back of Jieun’s shoulders, but she doesn’t mind the pain if it lets the younger steady herself. Anything. Take anything from me.

“If I truly meant something to you, you would’ve known that things like this matter to me. You should’ve cared, but you didn’t.”

Jieun exhales, tongue thick in her mouth. “Sana––”

“Don’t call me that!” She shouts, wrenching her hands away from her body as if she had been burned. Her absence hurt Jieun more than any of the scars from the wars she has fought––not even the agony of Zeus’ lightning bolt can compare to this pain. Melpomene stalks away from her, and it is only when she separates herself from Jieun that she allows the tears to fall.

Even when she was crying, Jieun can’t help but think that she is the most beautiful person that she has ever seen.

“Mel,” Jieun tries again. It hurts knowing that she has probably lost the precious gift of being able to call her by her true name, and it twists her heart painfully to realize that she will never get to experience the sweet taste of her name on her tongue ever again. “None of us are immortal, Mel. We’re all bound to pass, just like our predecessors. You should have known my time was limited. And besides, we’ll meet again in the Underworld––”

“Don’t you get it?” she seethes. She turns away from Jieun then, not allowing her the opportunity to watch helplessly as the only girl she’s ever cared for starts to openly weep for her, a living corpse. The weight of time has never felt so suffocating until then. “The Underworld is different. By then, it would have been centuries of us having to stay apart, and who is to say we’ll find each other again? Hades told me how difficult it is for lovers to reunite and how they often forget about each other by the time they do meet again. How can you be so nonchalant about this––?”

“Melpomene, my love,” Jieun whispers, and she takes a tentative step towards her. When she gingerly places a palm against her back, she feels the younger tense, but she does not move away. Jieun carefully slides her arms around her waist, embracing her loosely as she nuzzles her face into her back. She takes a shaky breath. “I’m still here, aren’t I? We lasted centuries before ever meeting, and I’m sure I’ll keep waiting for you for another more. Why worry so soon when we have time?”

At her words, Melpomene starts to shake violently, the sound of her sobs echoing into the night. Jieun refuses to let go, trying so hard to make the other girl understand she hasn’t died––not yet. She’s only ever felt alive whenever she’s around the tragedian, and that hasn’t changed even after centuries of stolen kisses in the meadows and whispered promises in the shadows.

Even in the light, those promises will hold true. Jieun will make sure of it.

“I’m scared,” Melpomene eventually says after a few minutes of sobbing, still faced away from her lover in fear of breaking more. But when Jieun gently cups her cheeks to face her, she can’t help but follow her touch like a moth to a flame. Jieun’s heart breaks at the sight of her swollen eyes, the look of pure devastation spilling the contents of her soul to anyone who can see. Melpomene continues, “I’m scared that we’ll forget.”

“I know,” Jieun whispers, and she suddenly notices the wetness on her own face––she’s been crying, too. Melpomene begins to brush them away, just as Jieun goes to brush them off as well. Melpomene lets out a watery giggle when their hands clumsily bump against each other.

Jieun grabs her hand before she can pull away. She squeezes tight. “It’s fine to be scared, you know? And I know it’s hard to see me go, but is it really harder to believe that I won’t leave you alone?”

“It’s not, but I can’t help but worry––”

“Mel, I have to tell you something,” Jieun interrupts, and she tries to sound firm to fully make her understand. She wants––no, needs her to understand that there is nothing to fear. “My time with you has meant so much to me, even more so than the time I spent with my own husband. You know this, don’t you?”

At the mention of the god of thunder, Melpomene lets out another bitter laugh like before, and a single fat tear rolls down her face. “Ah, Zeus. How could I forget? At the end of the day, how am I even sure that you felt the same way I did? I was only a mistress––a secret kept away from everyone because you had to keep your queenly status. Whereas for me? I was just someone you fancied when there was no one to hold, someone to keep your bed warm––”

“That’s not true,” Jieun says, staring wide-eyed at the girl’s accusation. “You know that’s not true. I cared for you more than I can even bare to handle.”

“Don’t lie. I’ve seen the way you look at Zeus,” Melpomene counters, head shaking in exhaustion. She’s no longer angry, only tired from all the worries and anxieties that have haunted her for years, perhaps even for centuries. “You might not know it, but you always did look sad when you looked at him, because you knew that he would never love you the way you loved him.”

“It’s true that I love him,” Jieun begins, taking a shuddering breath. She lets out a laugh of her own, as mirthless and weary as she felt. “But it’s not the same way I feel for you.”

At those words, Melpomene scoffs, pulling away from Jieun. She begins to walk away, gaze downcast as she goes to slide open the balcony door and rejoin the party. “Even now, you can’t say those three words back to me,” she murmurs, putting on the strongest smile she can muster. It disappears just as quickly as the wind.

Before Melpomene can walk away far enough, Jieun rushes towards her and grasps her hand in her own. It isn’t even strong enough to really stop her, and Jieun’s loose grip tells Melpomene that she can leave if she really wants to.

But she doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t.

She doesn’t because she can’t, and wouldn’t want to. Despite all the worries bubbling within her, all of them threatening to erupt and destroy everything that she has come to know and love, there is one thing that keeps Melpomene sane. It is just so unfortunate that the same person who used to make her heart flutter and her soul sing symphonies is the very same person who has the power to cause everything to fall apart.

At the end of the day, she is only mortal. She can pretend to be the Muse of tragedy, who is able to weave sorrow into words just as quickly as a seasoned archer is able to draw their bow. All the talent in the world can never erase the fact that she is just a girl, and she fears just as much as she loves.

When Jieun leans forward, her breath mingling with hers in a slow waltz, the stars reflect themselves off of her eyes. They were made for you, is the last thing thinks Melpomene before her lips are millimeters away from her lover’s, until the space between them is nothing more than something that happened once in a dream. Jieun’s gravity pulls her closer still, until there is nothing more to give.

I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours, her heart beat thunders against her eardrums, urging Jieun to hear. She wonders if she has doomed herself, like the protagonists in her tragedies.

Melpomene pulls away for a split second, enough to gather air into her lungs which she will inevitably waste as she presses against Jieun and she is left breathless and lightheaded. This. This is what I will remember during the nights we will spend away from another. I hope you don’t forget them, too.

The party downstairs continues to rage on. The two lovers kiss by the balcony, with an audience of stars to keep them company. Melpomene fools herself into thinking that time will wait for them, if she just prays hard enough.

But she knows how tragedies end, and so she weeps.

[minteagalaxea]

Abyssal | Wang Ziyi

ziyi and xue

genre: a solid amount of angst, that one steamy bit

word count: 6.25k

inspiration: beach trips

after all, a siren always led a sailor to his death.

note: still trying to figure out formatting, but yeah. it’s messy as fuck.

He grew up in the palace, surrounded by political intrigue, perfection the only expectation of him, hence, freedom was a wish he could only yearn for. He smelled of leather, fresh parchment, crushed velvet, of musk, a culmination of odd, yet enticing scents. The young gentleman spoke with a gentle timbre, proses of literary classics pouring from his lips in a thoughtful, wistful fervor, the tunes of particular songs escaping his lips during a state of contentment; however, the naive genteel he possessed seemed almost a dream, for his true persona realized itself with specially sharpened canines, feral in an interestingly refined style.

She grew up a product of the unforgivable, the unrealized, the unfathomable. Raised with half of a mother, no father, and a brother that understood as much about the world as she did, she dreamed of belonging, in a place where such thoughts remained unacceptable. The scent of ocean water, bitter mint, and soft silk chiffon wafted from her figure, softer fragrances, though she held a vicious killer instinct, a fact she hid from everyone in her surroundings.

Lin Xue and Lin Yanjun were accepted by a kind Hamadryad, mentoring the siblings in the craft of woodsmithery, where the sister discovered a proclivity in creating beautiful paddleboards and surfboards, and the brother found solace in creating windchimes and other decorative pieces. Every evening, the siblings settled to drag their mentor-slash-caretaker-slash-secondary-parent with them to the ocean, each carrying paddleboards to the shore. Despite the adamant refusal of Yue Yue, their caretaker, their nightly tradition persisted—mainly because they agreed that Xue's smile was the prettiest, especially with the moonlight gracing her features, making her seem more ethereal, yet lethal, with her smart mouth and cruel teeth.

Prince Wang Ziyi recalled first meeting the siblings during the morning market, ironic for his particular species, hence the umbrella he carried with him to protect the sun from scorching him. He admired the intricate carvings on the paddleboards and windchimes organized neatly, each piece characteristic to its maker and their preferences. The young boy took an interest in an ebony racing paddleboard, the deck engraved with an uneven chevron pattern, alternating between an icy mint, pale grey, and white. The paddle itself was the same, certain parts of the shaft painted in a more equilateral chevron pattern, flowing into a part of the blade.

"How much to purchase this paddleboard?" he requested, secretly placing his compelling ability to use, presuming Yue Yue, the more talkative of the trio, would answer; however, a harsher voice responded, his power purportedly ineffective against her.

"It is not for purchase, sir."

Subsequently showing the underside of the paddleboard, her name—Lin Xue—painted with stunning calligraphy in the front of the board. She returned to her workspace, finishing the minuscule details on the all-around paddleboard requested of her, carving out the name of the purchaser, painting it black, before varnishing it with lacquer, allowing it to shine. The prince watched her perform her task, enthralled by her movement, intrigued by her brother's smile at a Naiad, who handled the transaction, though Ziyi didn't question it as the other male's flirtatious glance towards the customer had the desired effect, the girl turning into a blushing mess, while Xue elicited a giggle.

"Yanjun, might you stop attempting to compel Jingyi to allow you to court her?" Yue Yue questioned, despite the laughter.

"See if I ever help you with Bu Fan, then, if you continue to speak in that tone," Yanjun snapped, seemingly playfully, yet Ziyi recognized from the undertones of his quip, he wasn't entirely joking.

"Zhenyang is still utterly perplexed at why you even have romantic feelings for a literal man-child—actually, dog-child," Xue chimed, earning a pout from her mentor, before averting her attention back to the prince in front of her. Motioning him towards her, the girl began to write a compilation of details she understood he wanted, coming to a realization that the person in front of her didn't know the various classifications of paddleboard and surfboard, yet typed out the specifications he requested, telling him to come back the following morning to pay her and receive his board.

"Might you need my name?" Ziyi inquired.

"I assume I should already know the name of the future king?" Xue countered, bending over the table to meet him eye-to-eye with dizzying proximity, it seemed intoxicating to the prince. Pulling away, the girl delved into the register, before grabbing a faded peach sweater, almost to shroud something she didn't want others to see.

Xue meandered around the market, eyeing the artisanal pieces of jewelry and apothecary-esque goods that felt more of a luxury than a necessity, though, she resorted to purchasing various teas and a small parcel of herbs, occasionally haggling for a lower price for anything remotely expensive. "I thought your body hated the sunlight?" an inquiring voice wondered aloud, Xue turning her figure to see Zhenyang, a close friend, with a dopey grin plastered on his face.

"My body dislikes the sun; hence, I can stay out in the radiating sun without experiencing an irritating death, Oceanid," she retorted, a shadow of a smile crossing her face as soon as it came, doe-like eyes gentle, yet impish. Zhenyang's own doesn't fade into obscurity, in fact, widening as he strode towards her, modelesque in his style of a walk—Li Zhenyang was regarded as the most handsome Oceanid on the island, and he exploited that knowledge as he deemed it necessary, traditionally in conjunction with his friend's antics.

Xue groaned in mock-annoyance at the sight of her closest friend grabbing her belongings to carry back to her home, realizing the ulterior motive of the action. Simultaneously, the girl frowned with her friend, whose attention seemed more on her exposed skin rather than herself as a whole; Zhenyang being worried felt to be an understatement. "Lin Xue, remind me of the last time you dove into the ocean?" he inquired, the abrasiveness in his tone predominant, only succeeded by concern, "Your scales are showing even more than usual, Xue, and I don't think it's healthy for you to be so negligent of your health."

"Pain is weakness leaving the body: Yanjun always told me that and seeing as I still am standing, in what constitutes perfect condition, it should mean something, no?" she mused, her voice a hybrid of perpetual annoyance and insatiable exhaustion. Zhenyang settled to not speak further about the matter, in hopes of not angering her, while also to not remind her of the compilation of her near-death horrors, which occurred on one-too-many occasions that neither of them wanted to recall.

The evening sky scared the nymphs, most of whom inhabited the village Xue resided in, mostly due to their unabashed fear—or hatred, Xue conjectured the former—for the aristocracy of their society: vampires; brash, arrogant, and sadistic, a majority enjoyed humiliated their societal underlings. Though unlike a majority of her nymph-like counterparts, Xue chose to heed no mind towards the supposed superiors, understanding that if she managed to not attract attention from them, they would have no intention of disrupting her existence. The paddleboard incident, as Xue often referred to it, affected how she intended to live the rest of her immortal life on the island, lest she wasn't executed for whatever blasphemous crime she committed that evidently was made up to spite the working class.

Moonlight basked over the girl, her paddleboard close to her frame as her bare trekked across the warm sand, a gentle smile on her face as she heard her brother rush over towards her, claiming, "You are a terrible sister, Lin Xue," in mock offense.

"I know, Yanjun," she responded, a sense of insouciance in her tone as they began to paddle out to a cove some reasonable distance away from the island, neither of them speaking a word as they opted to find solace in the waves of the ocean and moonwake, the midnight shade shining from the light. The tenalach the siblings shared with the body of water appeared unique to them, characteristic to their nature—nymphs had their own genetic bond towards the sea, but they were different. Their relationship with the ocean seemed more turbulent, more connected to the water than their nymph counterparts, perhaps due to their peculiar bond.

Nestled snugly into the cove, their apparatuses slightly knocking into the rocks as the siblings sat on the paddleboards, staring at the glow of the glimmering sea with a wistful expression. "Do you ever wonder how our lives might occur if we were born normal?" Xue mused gently, her eyes forlorn as her legs gracefully swung in repetitive motion.

"We have no prophecy, my dearest sister, though, I believe our lives would, inevitably, be more mundane, yet perhaps more limitless; nothing would hinder us from having and retaining a sense of normalcy in our existences," he answered, sentimentality pervading the response.

"Do you ever believe that perhaps one day, our curse might be lifted?" Xue wondered aloud, eyes flitting from the pristine white moon to their legs, liltingly combatting with each other as they sloshed against the tide.

"I suppose we sinned in the life prior, which earned us an eternity of suffering," Yanjun explained, "Had we no immortality, this supposed punishment of ours might have ended now."

"Do you ever wish your trajectory could be different than this; imagine how vastly different our decisions would be if we were only one species?" the sister suggested, her figure sliding from her board and into the ocean, giggling as her brother proceeded to accompany her in the water as she adapted to her new terrain. Prodding and poking and kicking each other with tender affection, the siblings enjoyed the period of peace and insouciance, savoring it for the moment, until the various ringing of the village bell; the siblings rushed back to the cove, rapidly paddleboarding back to shore to avoid capturing attention. Unbeknownst to them, however, they had already earned scrutiny of a particular vampire.

The following day, Ziyi returned to the market, staring at the girl wrap up his board and accommodating paddle, before stating the price of the paddleboard: one hundred gold pieces, with no opportunity for the royal to compel her to discount the cost. Handing her the coins, she checked its worth, before placing it into the register; however, Ziyi observed the subtleties of her pain and the lack of her sibling, arousing suspicion, but chose to not interrogate her regarding her private affairs. Minghui sent the girl concerned glances, though she paid no heed towards them, averting her attention towards escaping the patronizing eyes of her second parent, grabbing her sweater and stumbling outside towards the market with withering posture. Ziyi proceeded to leave the market, returning to his palace and life of luxury, blissfully unaware of the events predestined to follow.

Wang Ziyi held a penchant for explorations, conducting interkingdom trade and forging relationships for the mutual benefits of both kingdoms—other instances, the prince had a passion for joyriding his ship, The Stellamaria. The young man stood on the bow, staring off into the distance, however, the sight of an individual he recognized to be Lin Xue staggering (crawling, really) up a cliff, tossing herself into the ocean.

Perhaps his curiosity overcame him, as he removed the heavier garments of his attire, leaping into the ocean, in a futile attempt to appease his curiosity; underwater, Xue thrashed violently, clawing at her skin, and a fretful Ziyi touched her shoulder, resulting in a series of catastrophic events.

The prince understood a reaction was imminent, but he expected a less...violence, let alone a screech that pierced the vampire's acute hearing—alongside the scream, Ziyi's face became marred with the girl's precisely sharp fingers, rendering him unconscious from the impact of her strikes. She was haunting, with a white tail graduating into an icy mint, two silk-like ribbons furling from the middle of her tail, the ends webbing together in similarity to a fae's wings; her usual silver eyes burned away into a crystalline mint, seeming colder in a way. It remained the final thing he saw before his vision into obscurity as she forcefully swam away.

Xue could only comprehend the concept of pain, the signs of dehydration prevalent the morning after her heart-to-heart conversation with her brother, who disappeared, though the sister knew his location. Exerting all of her energy to propel herself from her resting place, observing the evening sunset, as she felt the rays tingle against her skin in discomfort; draping a beige cardigan over her stature. Aligning her weight onto a wooden staff, the girl hobbled over towards the Cliff, as the inhabitants monikered it, given the rocky terrain of the coastal region, Makai, in comparison to Mauka, the palace region of Mahele—however, her wooden staff snapped from the force of her vice-like grip. Successfully reaching the Cliff, Xue tumbled into the ocean, a scream eliciting from her lips when the water reacted to her dehydrated state, her body beginning to destroy itself, realigning her bones, skin, and muscle to ensure her survival; it started with her fingers, her skin adapting for aquatic survival, followed by her spine, extruding fins. Xue's tail, the most painful part of her transformation, as the lower part of her body destroyed itself to guarantee her life.

She elicited a scream as her transition began, her body deforming, her skin feeling as if it had been set on fire, her eyes especially, as the striking silver tone incinerated into the trademark mint eyes most deepsea sirens held. Halfway through her metamorphosis, somebody touched her shoulder—instantaneously, Xue released a deafening screech, succeeded by various scratches with her newly formed claws, causing her to relieve her mind from the pain temporarily, only for it to return as her legs fused together, her bones and muscles reconfiguring to create her tail. Cruelly, she swam away, allowing the boy to die—in necessity—for her security.

Ziyi woke up, eyes flickering around to find a commonality of location; his bedroom was dimly lit, warm red lights and the scent of leather and smoke perfunctory to him. He observed the various salves and poultices littering his form, a bandage on his forehead the most notable of his sustained injuries. According to the doctor, the prince obtained a multitude of painful wounds, of which the doctor instructed rest and recuperation under the pretense of healing. Sending in an attendant, he requested Lord Zhou's presence in his chambers, impassive upon the noble's arrival, necessitating information on sirens ("for research and further understanding" as he worded it), acquiring the tale from the lord regarding his children.

"Sirens are sentient beings; however, modern conceptualizations state otherwise, but yes, they understand feelings, albeit their spectrum of emotions is limited to that of another species. Part of that spurns from their territorial nature, which does not vary by living terrain—most of my personal experiences came from a deepsea-arctic siren, a culmination of the most dangerous iterations of sirens, and are highly skilled in the art of skullduggery.

"I first met her when I explored the deep sea, which is quite cold in Makai with the various frozen zones of the island. She was hunting, and I heard her sing, and automatically, I fell for her. Perhaps part of me was selfish, as I compelled her to visit me on land, and she ended up bearing a son, followed by a daughter. However, I married Lady Guang and had Meiji, which perhaps hurt her—I suppose it was that reason she chose not to disclose the mater, and, consequently, my children, justifiably, despise me for what I did to their mother, who raised them, and I have never met them.

"I suggest you heed with caution if you ever encounter them, Your Highness, as their abilities are much more potent, a fusion of their precursor's unique powers, hence they will not hesitate to attack if, and when, provoked—I have no doubt they are beautiful, enchanting even, though they will kill for survival or entertainment, whichever they choose."

Bidding his farewell, Lord Zhou departed from the prince's chambers, allowing him to cogitate over his newfound information and the most effective means of utilizing it. Resolutely, Ziyi traipsed to the library, scavenging for anthologies and compilations of works regarding sirens, scarce in comparison to other literary pieces glorifying vampires. Through the Baroque-esque window, the prince caught sight of tidal waves crashing against the rocky coast of Makai, a luxury Mauka experienced without having to fear for potential property or physical damage. The natural violence enchanted Ziyi, finding solace in the sound as he pored over the proses of literature.

Two creatures fervently propelled against the water, predators in a sea bountiful of prey, as they hunted for, quote-unquote, dessert, spying on a small school of fish by the benthic region of the sea, their nimble fingers gripping onto a piece of fish, effectively decapitating its head from the rest of the body. Naturally, their bodies rushed back to their cove, dining on their meal absentmindedly, tails gradually increasing in speed in a jocular attempt of a race.

"Yanjun, heed with caution as you enter the cave," a motherly voice chided, the oceanic vernacular heavy in her speech and diction.

"Mother, despite his height, I assume my brother can majestically traipse into the cave without much effort," Xue noted smartly, her vocal tone similar to her mother's when speaking vernacular.

"Always a sarcast, Xue—you never let mother have her fun," Yanjun mocked jocularly, earning an equally playful snarl from his sister.

"You have no right to act high and mighty, Lin Yanjun, especially when I keep seeing you flirt with a mermaid." The brother glared at his sister, who could only send him a cruel smile as he proceeded to punch her arm out of annoyance; however, the sun rays pierced their near-indestructible skin, the siblings hissing in consequence to the reaction.

"Already, it has begun," their mother whispered forlornly, "Even though you are my children, you never belonged to me, have you?" Yanjun and Xue couldn't respond, only staring at the illecebrous ocean out of curiosity and wistfulness.

"Mother, fretting about it does no good," Xue murmured, a period of silence preceding the chosen words, "This is enough for us."

Perhaps a week later, Ziyi remained cautious, yet curious regarding the pair of peculiar siblings, as he hadn't caught sight of the brunette and blond; the prince noticed the brunette gazing at him with an outlandish expression. The prince, however, couldn't find the blond, though, he chose not to ask about her presence, wary of the answers he might receive, yet the impavid aspect of his character wished to inquire about the enigmatic paddleboard maker.

The royal dined with his family, attempting to avoid the prattle of his impending marriage—a ball was to be held the proceeding evening, with ladies from various kingdoms attending to become his betrothed. However, Ziyi prayed he could escape the dinner as soon as possible to watch the sunset low-tide. The Baroque window in the library provided him a stunning view of the brunette woodsmith conversing with a nymph before proceeding to paddle into the ocean with his hands, tentatively standing to crash onto the waves easily, deftly.

Trekking out to the beach at its midnight high tide, Wang Ziyi attempted to stealthily follow Yanjun, who exchanged his surfboard for a paddleboard, out into the seas, endeavoring to mimic the motions the elder initiated. Against the high tide, the elder sped up, movement remaining calm, yet containing undertones of a franticness as he strove to reach a particular location in a specific amount of time. The royal, with considerably less exposure to the water than the Makai native, struggled to maintain a strong following, as even his vampiric speed proved futile against the other's affinity for water and superior speed; eventually, the movement seemed routine. Reaching a cave a ways from Mahele, the prince heard a piercing screech, rushing to the source of the sound, appalled at the sight of a siren with light seafoam skin mutating, her figure contorting and the dissonant of bones breaking resonating in the cave.

Temporarily, Ziyi overlooked the warning Lord Zhou bestowed upon him, haplessly touching the siren (despite understanding the repercussions of his actions fully)—the siren opened his old wounds, reestablishing their bleeding and open scars, and producing fresh ones as her claws scratched various parts of his face, her tail-slash-legs pushing the young man off the ledge and into the deep. However, Ziyi returned to land rapidly, wincing as his accelerated healing entered, and from peripheral vision, noticed Yanjun rushing towards his sister with blinding speed after the transformation completed itself—Xue's frame shook, exhausted and lightheaded as she forced herself to dress into a bikini top and shorts.

"Zhenyang brought your paddleboard over," Yanjun informed, "Where is your staff?"

"My grip broke it when I was on The Cliff," Xue answered softly, "You understand remarkably well how our beautifully erroneous strength has its...idiosyncratic malfunctions." The girl slowly hobbled towards her paddleboard, stabilizing herself as she and Yanjun paddled the back towards Makai and Mahele, with Ziyi only to follow, interest overcoming him to remove his train of thought from the injuries.

As the sun began to set, Xue felt the accustomed burning tingling on her skin increase into a fiery sensation that overwhelmed her entire being with a precarious vigor. Weakly swimming to the cave, the siren hoisted herself up onto the rock, awaiting her transition back from siren to human (by technicality, not human), wincing as it already begun, her skin breaking to restore its more humanistic attributes—the fins and gills on her back retracted back, her spinal structure realigning itself to adapt to its new landscape. Reminiscent of the week prior, someone placed a hand on her shoulder, almost as if to still herself from flailing about, inciting wounds to reopen or form with her claws, and her tail, which wasn't entirely reverted back to legs, forcefully kicked her supposed attacker into the ocean.

Her tail revamped its formation, finally turning into her legs, compiled of her flukes condensing themselves as the soles of her feet, ribbons contracting into the skin that shielded her femur, fibula, and tibia, both of which reconfigured into individual structures. Finally, the pain ceased to a halt, an indication of her complete metamorphosis, allowing Xue to breathe a sigh of relief, smiling frailly as her brother handed her a swimsuit to dress into, considering her nude state. The girl forced her body to stand on its feet, maneuvering her stature to maintain balance on the paddleboard, strength increasing in correlation with the exhilaration Xue felt returning home against the tide.

Wang Ziyi wandered around the market the following morning, determination coursing through his system as he scoured for the paddleboarding siblings, smiling in relief upon locating their presence. As he approached them with a sense of confidence, the royal stopped in his tracks upon hearing a series of lyrics that seemed foreboding, though he heeded no mind.

"Breathe breathe me in, taste my words, let me blow your mind—I will take you far, far away," a voice sang, soft enough to be undetected, but at a loud enough frequency as to which Ziyi's enhanced hearing could process the melody. Unconsciously, his steps faltered as he neared the girl, seemingly at her mercy, to which he was, unbeknownst to him; Xue leaned up, whispering, "My friend Zhenyang heard about a ball tonight in your honor—is that affirmative?" Mutely, the nod confirmed her question, a twisted smile crossing her face as she resumed her deceptive attack, "Place my brother and me on the guest list for the evening, would you?" Another mute nod later, Xue fluttered a cold breath into his ear, allowing him to revert to reality, effectively breaking out his hazy trance, walking away with a perplexed demeanor.

"Lin Xue, what ephemeral movement did you grace the wretched soul with?" Minghui and Zhenyang inquired in unison, the blond sibling eliciting an inhumanly portentous hiss.

"Had I utilized compulsion upon him in the same fashion I potentially perform it on any creature in this vicinity, perhaps I might not live appropriately long enough to recant the tale," she snarled, administering fear amongst her brother, caretaker, and friend, perching herself delicately on her work table.

"The prince displays various gashes that had only recently healed—enough of a diversion to distract him from the horrific reality of his predicament, thus, placing in effect a deadly combination of a siren song and vampiric compulsion."

"Have I ever told you how much of a genius you are, my sister?" Yanjun asked, a sardonic smirk crossing his lips upon the realization (and subsequent weight) of her actions, to which she reciprocated with a smile of equivalent malice.

His suit was made of luscious red velvet and black leather, various gold embellishments lining the sleeves and other decorum of the jacket; the tailors spared no expense into making him appear sultry and enigmatic, after all, fitting perfectly on his stature. He radiated the scent of musk and smoke, illuminating the nature of his character: confident, charismatic, carnal, as he greeted the ludic partygoers with a gentle disposition, never faltering to conceal his trepidation of even holding such a party, to begin with, had his phantom mask not provided enough of a mystery for any young lady.

Her dress consisted of beige silk chiffon (correctly described as zinnwaldite, according to the merchant selling the textile), reaching the middle of her thighs, the sheer quality exposing the expanse of her arms, legs, neck, and shoulders; a brown mantle shrouded her from the brisk wind billowing towards her and Yanjun. They surveyed the various ships and carriages journeying into Mahele, past Makai, and into Mauka, the siblings trekking their own path up the rocky environment of the border between the two sects of the island. "However much longer, Xue?" Yanjun pardoned, the brother appearing dashing in his black attire, "I understand you want to see the terrain of Mauka as we arrive, yet, at this pace, we will not get far." His response was a blur of wind, spurring him on to rush after her, stopping as they arrived in front of the palace, rushing to don their masks as they stood, waiting to be greeted by the royal family.

Her mask was made of lace, rose gold, brandished from the seven seas' underground, and his own was identical in origin, though stylistically differing from the metalwork of his sister's. The guards interrogated them, to which a sly, "The prince invited us," sufficed for entering the lavishly themed social event. Handing her cloak to an attendant with perkiness at its extremities, the siblings scoured around, shrouding their visibility through brief interactions with others and the lack of familiarity between royals. Having to refuse various offers to dance from other people, Xue grabbed a glass of a substance she was curious about; the girl remained dubious regarding its contents, but after a sip, she came towards a conclusion.

"Is it blood, Xue, or is it wine?" Yanjun wondered, politely declining an offer to dance with an especially flirtatious fae, smiling at the confirmation of the beverage as a fusion of blood and wine, an attempt to satiate the vampires' thirst while accommodating other creatures in the estate.

"Excuse me, sir," a voice beckoned, the pair of siblings craning their necks to notice an older, unmasked gentleman of equal height to the boy, an aged woman perched on his arm, and another woman, brighter, more exuberant, eyed them with an inquiring fervor.  The warm eyes of the boy narrowed into slits, a snarl marring his face as he growled his greeting with a venomous sting—a warning to the ostensible members of the elite class.

"Father." In conjecture, the expression of recognition grew apparent as the once amiable expression contorted into one of horror upon the discovery of the younger's identity.

"Are you aware that in the entirety of my existence, I have only encountered you once? You opted not to watch the growth of your children, instead placing your priority over a child with higher esteem, perhaps for the intention of living a life of luxury and commodity while the woman you corrupted suffers in consequence of your selfish intent—you are a pathetic, spineless, power-hungry monster that deserves all the karma the gods can deliver."

The ladies turned towards the smaller girl, beseeching her aid, to which Xue offered none, her face impassive, discounting the frozen bite of her eyes, meticulously practiced to camouflage into the gala. As the girl proceeded to vacate the unpleasant conversation, she whispered, "Spoiled brat," the cause of a wave of tears to crash down on the younger's face; however, the elder remained unaware, considering she left the vicinity immediately.

"Would you care to dance, milady?" a voice hummed into her ear, almost expecting a bristle in reaction, mildly surprised as her reflexes caught the hand around her to twirl herself around.

"I do not dance, Your Highness," Xue responded with radiating confidence, eyeing the prince with an indescribable expression, scrutinizing her pursuer's sense of fashion (which was rather impeccable, as it always was).

In conjunction with the girl's actions, the person pulled her close to him, his right hand's grip firm on her waist, forcing the masked girl to position her left set of fingers on his shoulder, allowing him to lead her in the waltz. "Had you not made Meiji cry," Ziyi reckoned, "I suppose you might have earned my respect."

"That, I presume, is her own doing—she has as much of a cowardly disposition as my father, to which it is none of your concern," Xue pointedly riposted. The prince mocked hurt at the sharp prick of his partner's fingernails, enough to inflict pain, a crooked smile playing on her lips; in turn, Ziyi intensified his grip against the small of her back, the exposure of her fangs revealing themselves.

"It is my concern because it has a connection with you," Ziyi scorned, wrapping her leg against his waist, Xue placing her other leg up, snaking around the back to hit his skull.

"Perhaps it is so, but since when has your kind placed value on your citizens, on other classifications of creatures that loathe at an equivalent, if not, higher, caliber than that of fear or respect?" As the song concluded, Xue whispered, "I appreciate the invitation, Your Highness, but I think whatever relations previously entailed themselves between us should conclude now, before they complicate even further." With her speed, she slipped away from his sights, the prince joining in her game of cat and mouse, darting through the crowds and other locations of the estate before he snatched her wrist, rushing to her a room and locking the door, leisurely sitting on the edge of his bed.

Ziyi's bedroom was dark, with cherry furnishings and bloodred bedsheets, and a chandelier perched above the center of his bed. In a way, Xue supposed, her assumptions were correct, as the fixtures were correct to her imagination, so, as such, the girl leaned herself against the wall, standing out due to the paler tint of her dress.

"I'm aware of what you and your brother are," Ziyi revealed, his response futile to the girl, whose perceptive abilities rendered that conclusion quicker than his expectations.

"Must I congratulate you on your poor deductive skills, Your Highness?" Xue mocked, "Because I believe everyone managed to place two and two together, especially if that onslaught of words didn't attract the attention of twenty creatures in the ballroom."

"I understand why you hate me, Xue, both you and Yanjun," the prince started, trepidation and numinousness overcoming him as her glare grew deadly, her irises darkening as she sped over to him, fingernails applying pressure to his carotid artery.

"You have five seconds to owe a decent explanation before I decide to slit your throat"—the proximity decreased as she leaned into him threateningly, satisfaction shrouded, but undeniably present as Xue felt the trembles of the prince's heart—"And I believe you are aware I would do it in a heartbeat."

"You think I'm identical to your father, like the rest of my breed of aristocrat vampires," he pursued, attempting to portray a confident persona to his potential murderer, despite her lack of amusement in the matter, "I'm in love with you, Lin Xue."

"Nonsense, Your Highness," Xue riposted, "Falling for someone you met twice, especially when they have nearly succeeded in killing you more than once, seems dangerous." Nevertheless, her claws retracted themselves from his neck; however, the distance between the two didn't dissipate, as his newfangled gaze bored into her soul, the recumbentibus allowing him to hoist the girl onto the bed, allowing her to straddle his lap. Pressing her fingers onto her shoulders as she rose to tower over him, Xue pressed her lips to his.

The kiss was rough, sultry, and frustrated—the vampire prince deducted he was her means of releasing frustration, with him willingly accepting it, reciprocating it even as his fingers skated vertically down her spine. Reactively, Xue whimpered, implementing the opportunity for Ziyi to suckle her bottom lip, the girl's fingers raking through his unbraided locks, untying the mask innately. His lips contained notes of rich wine, while she of fresh flowers and effervescent herbs. In conjecture, the young man performed the same task as he felt around for the silk ribbon that blended itself into her hair, successfully locating it to untie, revealing the blond's silver eyes. Forcefully shrugging his jacket off, Xue proceeded to unbutton his dress shirt as the boy latched his lips onto her neck, a hand coiling behind her neck to untie the bow at the collar of her dress.

"Then, should I prove you wrong?" Ziyi proposed in reply to the comment the girl made—Xue resumed unbuttoning his shirt, her lips leaned against his ear while her fingers roamed as they pleased.

"Prove it," she whispered, providing enough incentive for him to tumble her underneath him, wry, carnal, smiles etched on their faces as Ziyi kissed her once more.

Sunlight wafted through the dark, sheer curtains of the bedroom, the usually uncomfortable sensation tingling the prince's skin, who rose to shut them, only to establish that the blond girl of which he slept with, vanished. Frantically, he searched the boundaries of his sleeping chambers, seeing a case on the bench of his bed. Snatching the tube, he opened the wooden roll to unearth the parchment inside—unrolling its contents, Ziyi read the message intrinsically typed onto the scroll.

My apologies, but I do not repeat history.

Resolutely, he rushed to dress appropriately, determined to find Xue, when a guard entered his bedroom, reporting, "Your Highness, the girl has escaped the palace—Lord Zhou and your parents are working to apprehend her from escaping, and she will be brought in for inquisition alongside her accomplice."

"There will be no need, officer; I will settle this issue with the intruder myself," Ziyi responded, speeding down to Makai, in the hopes of reaching Xue before their parents apprehended the girl. Intuitively, the boy searched at her stand, finding her sanding down a piece of wood, flitting away within a blink, sparking a violent game of chase between the two, as Xue managed to evade his clutches barely, locating creative hiding areas, her small stature advantageous against the taller Ziyi.

As she reached the coastal rocks of Makai, her bare feet grazed one particularly sharp rock, an incision made into the sole of her foot, the line of blood serving as a quote-unquote breadcrumb trail for Ziyi to follow as he came across the path. Inspecting the print, the vampiric noble inhaled the minty, oceanic scent permeating the rock, the fragrance intoxicating him as he resolutely dove into the water, fretfully searching for the probable prisoner of Mauka.

"Xue, go!" Ziyi heard Yanjun's voice boom from the Cliff, Xue rapidly swam to their cove, praying for her safety as she innately sensed someone trailing her—settling for the only option that guaranteed survival, the siren-vampire hybrid dunked her head underwater, the addition of water hindering her speed as she sought to reach the abyssal region of the ocean. As if in conflict with her principles, Ziyi's hand snatched her wrist, pulling her towards him, stunned by the radiating seafoam hue of her irises; pulling her into him, his lips on hers, creating a cadence they understood, the royal bewildered as she parted from him, pressing her feet on his shoulders to propel herself upwards, away from him.

The high tidal waves carrying her back to shore; Yanjun retrieved her staff, a gift from Zhenyang and Minghui, Xue sustaining her weight against the stave, physically and mentally fatigued.

"Why?" the brother wondered with an ominous vigor—the sister recognized the sentiment in his tone, methodically formulating her explanation, tedious and menial of a task, yet imposing in nature.

"Perhaps, someday," the sister settled for the two impactful words, ambiguous in and of itself; however, the brother never inquired further as they traipsed back to Makai's beachfront, abyssal, broken, and alive.

Xue could only hope Ziyi found his freedom as she failed to find her acceptance—after all, a siren always led a sailor to his death.

[wovav]

The Odonata

Within minutes of settling an old cast-iron tub into our perennial border and filling it with water, we were watching the aerial antics of several dragonflies as they swooped and darted about the garden. Intended to accommodate a few aquatic plants and provide water for wildlife, the new garden feature was clearly also going to provide plenty of easily viewed entertainment. We were delighted! Dragonflies are large, heavy-bodied, strong fliers, with wings held flat at rest—the “cargo plane” of the order Odonata. Typically they are about 3 inches long. Closely related damselflies are more fragile-looking and about half as large. They are more accurately likened to helicopters. Slender, weak fliers, they generally hold their gossamer wings over the top of their body when at rest. In both groups, the aquatic larvae (naiads) can live a few weeks to several years overwintering in water. Adults, on the other hand, live only a few weeks (in temperate species), and die in winter.

These fascinating creatures are an ancient lineage of insects, not much changed since the time of dinosaurs. The main difference is size; fossil dragonflies with wing spans of over two feet have been found! Although they have powerful, serrated jaws (“mandibles”), dragonflies do not bite people unless roughly handled. With their large compound eyes, they are efficient hunters, both as naiads and adults. If you are lucky, you may one day witness a naiad’s exoskeleton splitting down the back and the magical emergence of a brand-new dragonfly, as its crumpled wings unfold in slow motion. Adults are voracious predators, and will eat just about any flying insect. Flight patterns are usually related to hunting style. Most catch their prey on the wing in a basket formed with their legs. Some dragonflies exhibit “hawking” behavior, relentlessly pursuing prey, while others “sally,” darting out from vegetation, then returning to their perch. Others are “hover-gleaners,” picking insects from vegetation while in flight. Naiads are also predators and often hunt by ambush. Those in my tub are camouflaged with algae, allowing them to sneak up on their prey, when their prehensile lip (labium) shoots forward to snag the hapless victim. While I live fairly close to a large wetland and have undoubtedly lured some of its residents to my yard, many dragonflies will travel a long distance from permanent water to reach a garden water feature. The more delicate damselflies are harder to attract if you are far from water. Garden water features can also attract all sorts of other aquatic insects. I have observed back-swimmers, creeping water bugs, and water striders in mine. Kneeling next to my backyard tub, I always have an amusing circus to observe. If you want to install a garden water feature, here are a few tips. Create one that varies in depth; if you cannot put in a side shelf, just elevate some potted water-loving plants (on overturned pots, rocks, bricks, or cinder blocks). Include a variety of water plants, avoiding those that are invasive in your region. Emergent vegetation such as rushes and sedges provide convenient perching places for adults as well as a safe spot for naiads to molt. A few flat rocks near the edge offer basking spots, not to mention access to the water for bees and other insects and wildlife. Just remember that if you want frogs, you should empty your garden pond annually in fall to discourage hungry dragonfly naiads from decimating the tadpole population. One concern you will have is mosquitoes, which lay individual or tiny “rafts” of eggs in the water, which soon hatch larvae. Odonata naiads dine on the larvae, but may not be able to exert sufficient control. One solution is the addition of a splashing fountain, which disturbs the water’s surface enough to discourage mosquitoes from depositing their eggs but all ows other aquatic insects such as dragonflies to lay theirs. Another solution, which works for me, is to regularly add Bti (Bacillus thuringiensis subspecies israelensis) to my pond. This bacteria kills only mosquito larvae. It comes in “donuts” or granules, with instructions on when and how to add it to your water garden; follow these carefully.

[stargloryinstitute]

Session 1: Welcome to Starglory

Our young students have begun their journey towards becoming adventurers at the Starglory Institute. Alice, Arclaive, Jade, Prudence and Sander have formed various alliances amongst each other, and fought an earth elemental of unknown origin on the Fightball field. They attended their various classes and met other students on the way. Arclaive died once in the classroom by Sander’s accidental hand. Alice died twice--once revived by a teacher (Dr. Niníel) and once by a member of the fledgling party (Sander). A confrontation in the cafeteria led to some nasty words between Prudence and Jade, who have some history, as well as some highly embarrassing antics from Arclaive and Prudence in front of Miracula Merenthe.

Other notable students met this session:

Sinope Aquavia, a very beautiful senior naiad cleric student who is a member of The Splendid Order party. She is the captain of the Cheerleading Team, and was present at the Fightball field when the earth elemental appeared.

Galatea Waterwind, a half-nereid undeclared student in Sander’s Wilderness Survival course who smokes up in class and hates her sister deeply.

Shady Riddle, a Tabaxi junior wizard student who is Prudence’s senior buddy and who got trapped beneath the bleachers when the earth elemental broke them. He was rescued by Prudence and Arclaive.

Other notable teachers met this session:

Vavuun the Vivid, human warlock, who teaches the practical magic course, who seemingly has a connection to Arclaive’s god.

Gawain Starglory, half-elf fighter, principal of the school.

Alzym the Small Storm, stout halfling barbarian, who teaches P.E. and also oversees detention.

[imaginejolls]

more naiad antics