#which did you vote for? /gen /nf

[just-a-mer]

Odysseus smiled as they drowned him in kisses, occasionally managing to sneak in a few of his own and melting into each of theirs. Oh, how he adored them; all the nymph qualities they had been embarrassed by at one point or another, the endless times they would share banter and tease, even their genuine arguments were something he could look back at and be relieved that it never tore them apart. A whisper so close did not go unnoticed by the siren; his ear flicking to pick it up.

" ... what's stopping you?"

[ they were sat peacefully by the shore of the mingling rivers, swaying lazily with no lingering thoughts. This had been how they’d spent the past few hours — though time is irrelevant in the underground, everyone knows this — getting up and wandering tipsily when they felt the itch to move, settling down for however long their body would let them before they were spat out to wander again. It peaceful, if not irregular, and the prophet could not think to ask of a better way to spend such a quiet time. Well, nearly could not ]

“ . . . Muse?”

<< @thrpr0phetuseek =} >>

"Hey there, love." Odysseus greets the call, slinking out from the water to move towards the peophet. Upon getting close, the king's face scrunches, catching whiff of the alcohol lingering on their form. Even if they faint, they unfortunately couldn't escape it, not with heightened senses.

With a quiet, almost inaudible hum, he plants himself by Tiresias' side, not yet shifting out of his seabound form. The prophet was still one of the few people he felt he didn't have to be on edge around; let alone hide certain features he had learned to humanly mask.

"Red wine?" He asks, playfully poking their side, though it was also meant to give them a general understanding of where he was sat.

[thrpr0phetuseek]

[ they grin, holding his chin as they connect their lips to his, leaning into him as they do. Pulling away, they give multiple quick ones to his lips, then to his cheeks, forehead, neck, jawline, and anywhere else they could reach. They hummed, pressing another long one to his lips a few more times in between and after before resting their forehead against his own, sighing contently and whispering something under their breath ]

“Gods how I wish I could be yours forever.”

[ they were sat peacefully by the shore of the mingling rivers, swaying lazily with no lingering thoughts. This had been how they’d spent the past few hours — though time is irrelevant in the underground, everyone knows this — getting up and wandering tipsily when they felt the itch to move, settling down for however long their body would let them before they were spat out to wander again. It peaceful, if not irregular, and the prophet could not think to ask of a better way to spend such a quiet time. Well, nearly could not ]

“ . . . Muse?”

<< @thrpr0phetuseek =} >>

"Hey there, love." Odysseus greets the call, slinking out from the water to move towards the peophet. Upon getting close, the king's face scrunches, catching whiff of the alcohol lingering on their form. Even if they faint, they unfortunately couldn't escape it, not with heightened senses.

With a quiet, almost inaudible hum, he plants himself by Tiresias' side, not yet shifting out of his seabound form. The prophet was still one of the few people he felt he didn't have to be on edge around; let alone hide certain features he had learned to humanly mask.

"Red wine?" He asks, playfully poking their side, though it was also meant to give them a general understanding of where he was sat.