Creatures of habit, carrion flowers

Options rolled through Casper’s mind like a rolodex of movies he had seen or had access to, listening to her suggestion and smiled as she described the tales she had once been told as a child. It was kind of the same way he was showing her his own favorites, though she had to actually explain most of the ones that had graced her presence. Which, to Casper’s ever growing curiosity, hadn’t figured out where exactly Eurydice was from. Or what exactly she was. But the two had started to grow closer, seeing each other’s homes and the various hangouts between his long work hours. “To some, this time of year usually means scary movies and haunted houses. Some still believe in the old holiday, All Hallows Eve or Samhain, to celebrate the dark half of the year. Maybe ward off a ghost or two,” he still remembers some of the knowledge had absorbed during his time working for his family’s haunted house tours back in New Orleans. Though he least expected to be using the information in this setting, “Um, let’s see.” Casper pulls a box labelled ‘Holiday’ and starts to rummage through its contents, “Maybe you’ll like the Nightmare Before Christmas, hm— or Spirited Away?” His emerald hues caught the outline of Hocus Pocus, but decided against it since they had just finished a movie that basically prosecuted witches, even if it was more humorous. “Mary in the Witch’s Flower,” a small huff escapes his nostrils before he turns his gaze back to Eurydice, eyes still soft, “Any look exciting to you?”

-

She takes in what he’s saying with little nods here and there. She thinks she likes it, the idea that the mortals, or perhaps even non mortal, artists have sort of put the supernatural into a part of the year. Mentally Eurydice tries to run down a list of things that might compare and she came up dry. “We celebrate many things at many times. Festivals and costumes are not new, they were a common way to honor the gods.” It’s said almost absently as she picks up a few films and begins deciphering the summaries on the back of them, squinting. “This one has singing and talks about Halloween and Christmas.” It didn’t look like what they’d just watched, the figures were not animated like some of the things she had seen on the Netflix, but something else. She glances through the other titles she’s mentioned and then she picks up another and happens to blink. “Cabin in the Woods?” Her brow raises at him before her eyes go to the back of the movie’s case. It is a strange concept, but it does take place in the woods and that’s somewhere she’s familiar with. “This one, at least I am familiar with the setting.” She nods and hands him the film, too shy to get up and figure the whole entertainment system out herself just yet, being able to open the Netflix or the Hulu is enough for her at the moment. “People go to find haunted houses? Why would they seek out spirits?”

She takes it for confirmation, then, that this woman is a dryad. Something she has been looking for, and yet the idea of having found one so easily seems almost too good to be true. Though convincing her to help may prove much more difficult. “I am afraid I am not old enough to have recognized such magic at first glance.” So many ancient species having recently returned to this world, all of them new to the fury. Now she knows what to look for, though. “I am honored to be held in such esteem, then. I have heard great things of the dryads.” Ophelia returns the smile with one of her own, a cant of her head forward. “There are not as many of us as I would like.” Not with the amount of chaos that happens within this city. There could be an army of furies within it’s walls and Ophelia would still not feel as if it were enough to contain everything. “It becomes more dangerous by the day, I fear. Particularly as of recently.”

-

“I always thought it fitting the mortals said the woods were dangerous.” She was there, her fellow nymphs, wolves, shifters, nowadays there were all sorts. Eurydice used to lure men deep within the woods and then disappear without a trace without a hint of remorse. That wasn’t the case anymore, she’d felt more on edge around people in Corinth than she ever could in it’s wilderness. “But the things I’ve seen in town, the things that walk among them, they’re far worse.” Her worst encounter with something herself had been that manticore Iapyx, but there were others out there. Vampires, cubi, all sorts of things. “Is it true what the plants have said about this place? That last summer Hektor gathered people together?”

“And I will not be kept from him.” Aster said firmly, he set the task of the couch aside for the moment as he looked more seriously at the woman who was laid across it. “Not by you, or anyone. For any reason.” There was finality there as he returned to the task of dragging the couch through the forest to their secluded home. Decor or no, if it was truly their home then it was just as much his as her, Paris would be there through whatever state of furnishment that was necessary. “When he fought- at Troy… I sent him off with arrows- carved from my own tree.” Aster said, grunting once more as he struggled. The offering was explanation enough for how the dryad felt for the man turned incubus turned manticore. 

-

Oh. Eurydice does sit up and she does feel a little guilty for perhaps making him feel strongly enough to stop. She feels just a little bit like a child being scolded, but she doesn’t apologize. To give anyone part of their tree is a big deal, to desecrate their home for any reason. It’s part of them, and it strikes her as an incredibly romantic gesture. “When can I meet him?” Perking up, her smile is small, almost a little shy. Gael is one thing, but this is someone else who is something else. And he is important to the two of them and therefore important to her, just not in a romantic capacity. She’s got her hands full with two...She’s got her own matters of the heart to deal with.

“Eurydice.” Micah repeated, it was an old name. One that the shifter couldn’t say that he had heard before outside of Greek legend. Micah looked around the forest, it was clear that the woman considered this to her territory though no part of him knew what she was or what claim she had over it. But she’d been watching him for a time and knew him even in his other form, which moved some form of caution within him. “I’m Micah,” he offered back before an easy admission passed his lips, “I’m not used to shifting in front of people.”

-

“I am sorry to disturb you.” He might be of the forest, but he is also still mortal and the mortals have their conventions about nudity and so Eurydice does turn a little, looks to the forest floor. “I like your kind, they’re welcome here.” The wolves, too. Though she did have her reservations about them a little, even if some of them did make delicious cheesecake. Her arms cross over her chest, her long skirt swaying in the light breeze that creeps past the trees. “I imagine being a snake is quite difficult.” She muses, brow furrowing as she tries to picture being one herself. “Especially one so large.”

His relationship with Sofia was complicated, but only because his pride had been wounded by someone he cared for. Her. “A friend of mine was attacked by one.” Hyacinth offered, it was the truth anyways, Medusa’s machinations did not need to come into this. At least not yet. If this wood was so important to them it would undoubtedly be difficult to obtain more of it. Still, these manticores weren’t a threat to him, what they preceded was of concern, but for now they were little more than a nuisance. Shadows of their former selves. “She’ll need it to defend herself in the future. She’s a warrior.” He furthered, if this dryad was old as Hyacinth expected then perhaps she’d respect the Erinyes. “A fury.”

-

A fury, that does change things, she has always admired their strength. They are necessary, perhaps now more than ever. The mortals are clueless, she imagines they need much protection. “Is she alright?” Immediately she thought of Paris, worried that somehow this mystery man of Gael and Aster’s was getting himself into all sorts of trouble. Or worse, that he could drag Gael and Aster into said trouble. Uncrossing her legs, Eurydice rises to her feet, to her full height which is still considerably small in comparison to Hyacinth. “I know of a couple of the manticores, the one I met personally seemed reckless to say the least.” Lost was a better word, hellbent on chaos and yet there’d been a part of her that had felt almost sad for him.

If Evie were any less of a lady, she might have done a spit take instead she swallows the liquor tinged with blood past her sputtering lungs and never allows it to play out on her features. How odd. “What time is that exactly?” She listens more and nods “It sounds beautiful.” Beckoning her staff forward. “I’ll take care of her drinks for the rest of the evening, please order anything you like.” She gives a moment, allows the other to make an order if she so desires. “Tell me, what was your favorite gift?” A beat as powerful notes from Emma filled the room and accommodating her on stage was Harlow and Prue, sequins, fans and beaded brassieres entertained the crowd. “There was a time in history, around 1920 when alcohol had become illegal due to the prohibition era. Making something illegal does not quench the thirst, so private bootleggers started up, selling moonshine and whatever liquor they could get their hands on. Such created the space of speakeasys, hidden bars behind walls and secret panels that would require to know a handshake or a password to enter. I turned away anyone who did not arrive with a red rose.”

Eurydice has decided she likes this one, this gorgeous vampire, and she turns to the bartender and orders the only familiar thing she can think of that she likes. “A rum and coke please.” And then she looks back to her fellow brunette and she thinks of the men who would leave their golden trinkets below her tree after catching a glimpse of her. Nothing compared to the little silver branch wrapped around her finger, forged by Aristaeus himself. Her hand raises to show off the simple silver branch and her smile goes from sly to fond as her drink is set down beside her on the bar. The tale the vampire tells is vivid and yet, she wonders what caused the mortals to ban alcohol, surely they had offended Dionysus in doing so. “In my time we could never have done such a thing. Why would they ban such a thing?”

Movie night. The first of what would end up being many within Casper’s new bayside villa. While weeks had now passed by since officially moving in, the jackal still hadn’t found a spot for all the items he would eventually be displaying. Glass jars full of oddities and the strange objects he had spent years acquiring over his travels. Small boxes were still in various places around the home, many within the living room that the two currently resided in. Most of them carried movies, the shifter pulling out personal favorites that he had plans to show Eurydice eventually. “Countless,” the shifter states as he pauses the film, hues moving back to her to capture more of her reaction. Blankets and pillows were strewn about around them, creating a fort-like effect on a juniper-tinted sectional, “and not all of them end this miserably.” He offered her a gentle grin, “Would you rather watch one of those instead?”

-

“Could we?” It’s a bit different, she thinks, looking into the world of the supernatural from this kind of lens. But it’s interesting, it’s something she wants to do and she thinks it’s something they connect over. Eurydice shifts a little to be able to fold her legs so they’re beneath her, careful not to disturb the little fort that’d been made. “All of the stories everyone always came to tell ended terribly.” They were called Greek tragedies for a reason, she figured. “Sometimes that made them more romantic.” The tale of Eurydice and Orpheus comes to mind immediately, Patroclus and Achilles, Pyramus and Thisbe, and those were just a few. She frowns a little thinking about it, but she’s not here to be reminded of love ending tragically. “It is customary around this time of year to watch these scarier films, yes? Though, I must say, what mortals think is just horror is nearly everyday for some of us.” Vampires, wolves, witches, what strange tales mortals wove about them when they did ultimately lead normal lives now from what she’d seen.

“You think so?” He could somewhat see it, though, it was probably because both were extremely muscular. But that was about it. Though, he couldn’t really think much about the similarities between Aster and the character on the screen, not when Eurydice sat so close to him. After their last date, he was in his head. Unable to focus entirely on his research, both at home or in the library, he just went back to thinking about that day. Because he didn’t know what to do or how to handle the situation. Not like it was his first time dealing with feelings but it was different. Back then, it was a confession that happened first before he ended up dating a person. Of someone asking him to meet them behind a building or on their way home– he knew that the other person liked him because they made it clear. Eurydice never did, she just asked if this was a date and he said yes. That was it. “Maybe the guy is his long lost brother or something.”

“Yes, he could be one of us.” A dryad, a ‘witcher’ or whatever, could be close. It would seem that he was something else in whatever fake world was on the Netflix. It was sort of interesting, how mortals viewed their world, the things they made up. Eurydice thinks the closest thing that existed that were like these witchers were maybe the furies. Maybe that’s why she finds the show interesting. It’s not something she can quite voice to a mortal, but she still has other questions Orpheus can surely answer. But when she turns her head to look at him, her brow furrows because he doesn’t look as relaxed as she feels. In fact, he looks a bit stiff beside her on the couch and she actually frowns. “You are not enjoying the Netflix? We can watch something else. Or go for a walk.” She thinks he likes those and it’s not like she tires of moving around at this point.

“I’ve heard word that only your kind can procure an unbreakable weapon capable of killing a manticore.” Hyacinth cared little for the presence of the cursed-creatures from Tartarus, but Medusa had tasked him with retrieving one of these sacred weapons on her behalf and the Spartan was not one to fail in any endeavor that he undertook. This one had seemed fond of him before, if not hi then Apollo at least, vaguely he hoped that that would be enough. “I take it you know that some have descended upon the city? I would ask for your help.”

-

“The wood from our tree contains old magic.” They are old magic, it makes sense to her that such a thing would be possible. Eurydice’s expression goes from curious to worried. If he is looking for a weapon against a manticore, that would mean they were in danger. Two of them, that is all she knows, and one of the pair she has never met in person. “It is not something that is so easy to part with for us.” An extension of self, or at least that’s how she felt about it. It was important to protect it, they needed their trees and the idea of just carving a piece of it and giving it away…”Has something happened?” She thinks of Iapyx, how he’d cleared that bar they’d been in. She hadn’t seen him since, he hadn’t given her any trouble, and yet she wondered if he’d given trouble to someone else. “That would warrant needing a weapon to harm a manticore?”

“Why would they want to make it cold, if it is meant to be hot?” Mortals are so strange, with their penchant for making things needlessly more complicated than they must be. It is one of the many things she does not understand about them. Hesitantly, Aella brings the drink to her lips, taking a sip of the strange concoction. It’s more pleasant than she is expecting, if very strong, and her face twists slightly as she considers her feelings on it. “I think that I like it,” she announces, still eyeing the cup in mystery. Such an important drink, it has it’s own furniture dedicated to it? Her nose scrunches in Eurydice’s direction. “Mortal men seldom make good friends. I would not willingly choose their company.” No, she would take her questions to the other dryads first. “But I am glad to not be alone here. My tree was isolated from other dryads, before. I seldom saw any.”

-

“I think it is...New?” It would seem there were so many different ways to have the coffee, she had really only learned about it through Ekho and from hearing what everyone else ordered. “The mortals are….” Eurydice doesn’t quite know how to go about speaking about them. Aella has a point, Aster seems to have disdain for them, Ekho is...Ekho, but she is somewhere on the fence. Her legs cross beneath her in her little corner on the couch that Aster had so proudly dragged into the home as she tries to find the correct words. “They are strange? But most helpful, at least those that I’ve spoken to. Though I do wish they’d stop with their ‘no shoes, no shirt, no service’ signs. What a way to lose business.” And they were so odd about nudity, too. “I have not met many immortals yet, I’m almost looking forward to such a thing.”

“Oh, he did? Yeah, he had been visiting us often. But he was at sea, too. Like a pirate.” It was pretty cool, he thought. At first, at least. That was until he actually talked to Paris and realized that the manticore didn’t think it was all that fun. He only wanted the best for his partner though. Gael wanted the best for everyone really. He only hoped he could make things better for Paris now that Aster and him were back and walking the earth. “Yes. Which isn’t all that great really.” He moved towards where she had plopped herself down and sat down next to her. They would figure out the right place soon. “What did he do?”

Like a pirate. Perhaps she was wrong about her mental image of the man, granted, Aster hadn’t described him. It was in the name, perhaps. Paris, the mortals had a place named that now. It was supposed to be romantic. Pirates did wear those big shirts, that was somewhat romantic, she supposed. Drawing her knees to her chest, Eurydice looks from the floor that she needs to sweep again to Gael. “He...Did something to their minds, I think? They were fine one moment, and then the next they were screaming and leaving the bar. He didn’t hurt me, I think he just wanted a quieter place to talk.” It had been a rather odd experience, and she’d had plenty of those since waking up.

“Then I am fortunate to find myself in such company,” Ophelia says through a grin, following the woman inside the building. She settles into the small booth easily, allowing her gaze to linger on the creature across from her. Her open candor is appreciated, and so Ophelia chooses to respond in kind. “I have never encountered a magic such as yours before.” She does not have the years of experience that other furies do, though a hundred years is a lifetime to her, Ophelia knows that to others it is considered merely a blink of the eye. Perhaps she is one of them. Yet the pieces click into place, a puzzle inside of her head that fills with the information give, and perhaps it’s simply wishful thinking, but Ophelia sits up straighter in her seat in interest. “A dryad?”

-

Instead of giving an actual yes, Eurydice chooses to give a slight nod of her head as she sips from the little straw in her glass. “It is very old magic.” Some of the first, if she were being picky, but she didn’t truly know. It occurs to her that the fury before her then must be on the younger side and that is incredibly interesting. “I’ve always admired your kind.” The smile she offers the other woman is soft. While her fellow dryads were not weak by any means, furies had always seemed closest to Artemis to her, hunters of sorts. “The trees told me there’s quite a few of you around here.”

“I will- not be… without him.” Aster corrected, grunting as he continued to struggle through the street with their couch. Nobody forbid him from anything, least of all sex with either of his partners. “Besides,” the dryad paused for a moment and panted as he struggled to catch his breath before he continued dredging onwards. “he is- of Tartarus…. our lack of decor is unlikely to… offend him.” Sweat fell from his brow and struck the earth as they reached the boundary of the city, the forest was the halfway point. Nearly there. “But yes,” Aster grunted before he put another foot in front of another. “He is… a manticore.”

-

He is truly trying her best and even though she thinks he would do better if she were not atop the piece of furniture, but he was so determined to get it home. So Eurydice stayed put, rolled over onto her back to look up at the afternoon sky with a soft huff of exasperation. Manticores and Tartarus, some things did not change despite the world seeming so much...Bigger now, far bigger than themselves. “It is the principle of the thing, Aster.” She’s seen the films, she’s watched the television in bars, houses are supposed to be stylish and inviting. She wants one, she wants one for herself and her fellow dryads. “Sounds like you care for this Paris quite a bit.”