#siinfully

Medusa's memory was fractured, as though her mind was trying to prevent her from fully understanding what had happened to her. She remembered the scent of the man, no, boy, on the wind. She remembered the instinct in her to protect herself, to add him to her somewhat grotesque collection. She had caught a flash of calf here, a curl of hair there but never all of him, never his eyes, not until the reflection. The sword was raised and she flew, her feet carrying her as swiftly as they could. She remembered pain blooming across the back of her head, the hissed scream that came from her snakes as she launched herself from the cliff into the cold embrace of the sea.

She didn't know the specifics of what happened next, but she knew that Odessa had found her and ensured her safety. She did not remember the cost at the time but it had become apparent to her later and Medusa felt guilty.

They had made a happy home of sorts in the cove linked to the sea, covered on all sides with a hole in the centre of the roof where the light came in and bathed her skin. She had lost some of the snakes and she mourned them. They hadn't been simply pets or even particular family. They had been an extension of her even with their own personalities. She heard them speak, spoke with them, and she was not the only one to mourn their loss. The sister who remained felt her pain.

Medusa stretched her arms above her head, her snakes uncoiling and stretching in tandem with her. She reached for her glasses, eyes closed until they were fixed on her face. As soon as the glasses were secure, she opened her eyes, hand reaching out to gently stroke Odessa's side as she lay beside her.

Matthew, as he was called in the modern day, had been summoned last night by a human. It was a normal occurrence for the lust demon, but he had to be honest he was tired of hell and it’s cycles. So rather than start the whole boring thing over, he had destroyed the amulet that would send him back and rather...decided to stay. He liked this apartment, liked this realm of existence. 

Pollux knew it was wrong but he couldn't stop. Castor had gone away again and here she was on his doorstep, dressed to the bones with a bottle of wine in her hand. He knew he was the gentler one, the one who understood. He let out the breath he was holding before stepping back to let her walk into his apartment.

He had been out flying that night when some teenagers decided it would be a good idea to throw rocks at him until he fell out of the sky. He landed roughly on a balcony with a light thud and a squeak of pain. He could see that the lights were on so he knew someone was probably home.

simple asks to help bolster ask culture again