DEVOUR !

sitting cross-legged on the carpet, the soul deity carefully brushes the nail polish over her toenail, the bright neon orange complementing the neon blue of the other toes.  after astoria’s finished up braiding her hair, they’d switch spots and it would be astoria’s turn to give herself a pedicure.   

hot breath against his lips, against his jaw, leading a wildfire’s trail against his neck as her hips press forward with his back against the door.  it’s almost inevitable, the two of them---- the way he disappears after a day or two, them meeting under serendipitous circumstances and winding up like this.   well, not exactly like this,  sometimes he pins her to the wall.   still,  it’s a cycle they haven’t successfully broken and neither of them are too keen on doing so.  

then, her words--- fierce against the hollow of his throat,  as though she’s reassuring him of a question he hasn’t yet posed.  gathering her hands together, he flips their positions so that her back hits the door, pinning her wrists above her head.  dragging the tip of his nose against her cheek, hermes snaps his teeth playfully once his mouth nears her own lips,  mischievous grin ever present and broadening still as he mimics her earlier movements, pressing her against the door.   

❝   ------it’s you i’m concerned for, sif.  your ---- safety.     ❞  or, perhaps a better word would be: survival.  traveling down to the underworld to wage war wouldn’t exactly be safe in any capacity.   it’s likely redundant to voice concern after  the other’s  determined words assure her journey to the underworld.   if it’s for family that she risks her life, hebe could very well understand the lengths in which sif would go.   however, that won’t stop the youth goddess from expressing that this might not be the best idea.   ❝   who will go with you ?  ❞

“ — I need you.” A shaky breath is drawn, her gaze lifting to meet his. “I need you to tell me everything will work out. That I’ll move on and be glad that he’s living his life safely, even if it’s without me. Please, Hermes.”

   head tilts, pouting follows through has her hands make their way onto her hips. that wasn’t very fair, was it? only a moment to see the precious item slip away, max begins to wager what she can offer. of course, there’s the biggest factor that separates them both: woman versus god,  “  if i offer you somerthing, will i be guaranteed it’s not fake? i’ll be highly disappointed, ”  and she doubts he would want to hear her pester about the thing. out of all the artifacts she picks up, jewelry in its rare form catches her eye the most. completely out of her normal, it certainly brings a nice gesture to her collection (as well as her closet).

❝     hera could also stand to beg for favours when she finds herself in need. favours that we don’t want to owe her, child.    ❞    tone remains stern, bemused, by his daughter’s antics---  it’s not that he wishes to bar her from having her fun, but he  refuses for it to cost her anything they would soon regret.   her providing entertainment might be a far cry from  what he’s suggesting might be the outcome,  but it’s only a warning that he hopes she’ll take seriously.   

@worshiphungry gets a one-liner lyric starter from reese.

 “I don’t really wanna know what’s good for me .”

❝     you are your father’s daughter.   certainly, nyx’s granddaughter. she’s so very fond of  instilling fear within hearts of both mortal and immortal alike.   ❞  hypnos;  gentle god, sleeping god,  owning half of mortal lives--- he’s never had the penchant for  gripping anyone with fear.  who has the energy for such tasks? everyone but he, surely.   still,  an almost sly smile lazily stretches across lips,  hooded gaze upon his darling niece.   what was the point he was trying to make ? was there a point at all ?  shoulders rise and fall in a shrug,  pulling his dressing gown around him----    

❝     speaking of fields of punishment, any  fun reapings lately ?    ❞  

@worshiphungry gets a one-liner lyric starter from reese.

         blood on my name - brothers bright

  “Watch the fires rise, burn through my skin.  Down to the bone, scorchin’ my soul.”

     in awe would be an understatement. not much gets her attention, other than what she aims for out in the wild. her expression brightens, intrigued by the golden chain leading down to the prize wrapped around. curious to know if it’s real gold, a gentle hand comes up to take hold and observes carefully,  “ beautifully done – am i dreaming? ”  a light tease in question of her own eyes, whether if it was real or fake,  “ and is this for me?  ”  amber iris’ look up to match his gaze, interested to know his answer this time.

       ‘usually when people say something like that to me, they mean HURTING.’

“  sometimes they can be alright but for the most part they’re useless.  ”    lifting her glass to her lips she FINISHES what was left before refilling her own glass and then her sister’s.     “  i think someone buried it, as an offering. besides dad’s collection is WAY BETTER.  ”

“I WOULD HAVE IF I THOUGHT HE’D ANSWER ME.”  mere mortal that she was,  she couldn’t possibly dare to ask zeus himself as to why his sense of justice was awfully twisted.  the echoes of his punishment for her mother reverberated into her own life,  and now she’s tied to the maze.  tied to the minotaur.  some days she tried to simply accept her fate,  while others gifted her with a TERRIBLE RAGE.  she was between those types of days today.  she was more sad than angry,  and it nettled her.  yet ariadne knew to be careful.  she did not want to incur the wrath of the gods more than she suspected she already had.  “i’m sure he felt he had a good reason,”  she claimed after a few seconds of silence. “and it’s not my place to question it.  please forgive me if i said anything out of line.”  the apology tasted like blood in her mouth.

❝   ----do you think so ?    ❞   

the style is more form-fitting than she’s accustomed to,  hugging every curve of her body with a neckline that plunges to the midst of her chest.   completing the look,  she feels as though she towers in the heels strapped to her foot; its complicated and thin-strapped design sure to form weaving patterns on her skin.