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Despite Colchis suiting Anastasia ill, with its gruff disposition and general disregard for the profession she'd taken up, there was no denying that a bit of adjustment and enough determination that she'd fit in. She was certain that she could find a foothold in the archipelago that made up the nation of Colchis. She reveled in challenge now, a number of years since her first steps away from Athenian soil bringing to the surface a side of Anastasia she'd never seen before. Calliope of Aetaea was a caged bird, with wings clipped and her heart trodden upon by the stampede of an unworthy life's footfalls.
Now? Her every step exuded a new sort of confidence about them. The smile upon her lips was wide as she made a brisk pace, having delivered the letter. It took a fair bit of daring, to presume that the Harimtu, with her countless patrons and her exalted life of pleasure at the behest of Aphrodite herself would remember her. But, it was worth a shot, if only to see the woman once again. Surely, the Harimtu lived a life beyond the Aphrodisias? Or if she didn't, then Anastasia wanted to pull the phoenix from her perch and be caught aflame under the starry sky.
But, they weren't there just yet. The sun rested over the horizon, an hour from the setting that would cloak the world in blessed darkness. Anastasia reveled in the glow of the falling sun, resting atop a blanket she'd brought, a sealed bottle of wine next to her and a resplendent azure chiton covering over her body. Bunched up at the waist, enough of Anastasia's legs were exposed to the sun to give her the pleasure of feeling Apollo's light on her, and she relished in the quiet of it all. Clearly, the Colchians either did not take reverie in their own surroundings or they were all lost in the drudgery of the worker's life. Anastasia, with all of the charm of her profession, amassed enough recompense as to provide her some freedom from the constancy of pursuit.
No longer the phoenix, but something else altogether. Anastasia of the Satyrs? Of the Siren's Rock?
She deliberated again and again how to give herself over to the fabled nature of her own tales. The persona was something she'd garnered from a musician, a bard of many years who characterized himself as the son of nymphs and godlings. It was truly a wonderful fable, one that certainly drew enough attention to him. Anastasia needed that sort of life, one rife with the attentions and affections of others. Time by itself was not enough to forget the treachery of her Athenian existence, after all.
But, the thought was a darker one, a thing she didn't want to expose her precious Euterpe to. So, Anastasia drank in the beauty of the waning sun, rising up to her feet and cinching her chiton more tightly to her waist as she moved, a slow and playful dance with the tide and the sky itself, murmuring quiet prayers to Apollo, Zephyrus and Poseidon as she awaited for the phoenix to steal her attentions away.
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Despite Colchis suiting Anastasia ill, with its gruff disposition and general disregard for the profession she'd taken up, there was no denying that a bit of adjustment and enough determination that she'd fit in. She was certain that she could find a foothold in the archipelago that made up the nation of Colchis. She reveled in challenge now, a number of years since her first steps away from Athenian soil bringing to the surface a side of Anastasia she'd never seen before. Calliope of Aetaea was a caged bird, with wings clipped and her heart trodden upon by the stampede of an unworthy life's footfalls.
Now? Her every step exuded a new sort of confidence about them. The smile upon her lips was wide as she made a brisk pace, having delivered the letter. It took a fair bit of daring, to presume that the Harimtu, with her countless patrons and her exalted life of pleasure at the behest of Aphrodite herself would remember her. But, it was worth a shot, if only to see the woman once again. Surely, the Harimtu lived a life beyond the Aphrodisias? Or if she didn't, then Anastasia wanted to pull the phoenix from her perch and be caught aflame under the starry sky.
But, they weren't there just yet. The sun rested over the horizon, an hour from the setting that would cloak the world in blessed darkness. Anastasia reveled in the glow of the falling sun, resting atop a blanket she'd brought, a sealed bottle of wine next to her and a resplendent azure chiton covering over her body. Bunched up at the waist, enough of Anastasia's legs were exposed to the sun to give her the pleasure of feeling Apollo's light on her, and she relished in the quiet of it all. Clearly, the Colchians either did not take reverie in their own surroundings or they were all lost in the drudgery of the worker's life. Anastasia, with all of the charm of her profession, amassed enough recompense as to provide her some freedom from the constancy of pursuit.
No longer the phoenix, but something else altogether. Anastasia of the Satyrs? Of the Siren's Rock?
She deliberated again and again how to give herself over to the fabled nature of her own tales. The persona was something she'd garnered from a musician, a bard of many years who characterized himself as the son of nymphs and godlings. It was truly a wonderful fable, one that certainly drew enough attention to him. Anastasia needed that sort of life, one rife with the attentions and affections of others. Time by itself was not enough to forget the treachery of her Athenian existence, after all.
But, the thought was a darker one, a thing she didn't want to expose her precious Euterpe to. So, Anastasia drank in the beauty of the waning sun, rising up to her feet and cinching her chiton more tightly to her waist as she moved, a slow and playful dance with the tide and the sky itself, murmuring quiet prayers to Apollo, Zephyrus and Poseidon as she awaited for the phoenix to steal her attentions away.
Despite Colchis suiting Anastasia ill, with its gruff disposition and general disregard for the profession she'd taken up, there was no denying that a bit of adjustment and enough determination that she'd fit in. She was certain that she could find a foothold in the archipelago that made up the nation of Colchis. She reveled in challenge now, a number of years since her first steps away from Athenian soil bringing to the surface a side of Anastasia she'd never seen before. Calliope of Aetaea was a caged bird, with wings clipped and her heart trodden upon by the stampede of an unworthy life's footfalls.
Now? Her every step exuded a new sort of confidence about them. The smile upon her lips was wide as she made a brisk pace, having delivered the letter. It took a fair bit of daring, to presume that the Harimtu, with her countless patrons and her exalted life of pleasure at the behest of Aphrodite herself would remember her. But, it was worth a shot, if only to see the woman once again. Surely, the Harimtu lived a life beyond the Aphrodisias? Or if she didn't, then Anastasia wanted to pull the phoenix from her perch and be caught aflame under the starry sky.
But, they weren't there just yet. The sun rested over the horizon, an hour from the setting that would cloak the world in blessed darkness. Anastasia reveled in the glow of the falling sun, resting atop a blanket she'd brought, a sealed bottle of wine next to her and a resplendent azure chiton covering over her body. Bunched up at the waist, enough of Anastasia's legs were exposed to the sun to give her the pleasure of feeling Apollo's light on her, and she relished in the quiet of it all. Clearly, the Colchians either did not take reverie in their own surroundings or they were all lost in the drudgery of the worker's life. Anastasia, with all of the charm of her profession, amassed enough recompense as to provide her some freedom from the constancy of pursuit.
No longer the phoenix, but something else altogether. Anastasia of the Satyrs? Of the Siren's Rock?
She deliberated again and again how to give herself over to the fabled nature of her own tales. The persona was something she'd garnered from a musician, a bard of many years who characterized himself as the son of nymphs and godlings. It was truly a wonderful fable, one that certainly drew enough attention to him. Anastasia needed that sort of life, one rife with the attentions and affections of others. Time by itself was not enough to forget the treachery of her Athenian existence, after all.
But, the thought was a darker one, a thing she didn't want to expose her precious Euterpe to. So, Anastasia drank in the beauty of the waning sun, rising up to her feet and cinching her chiton more tightly to her waist as she moved, a slow and playful dance with the tide and the sky itself, murmuring quiet prayers to Apollo, Zephyrus and Poseidon as she awaited for the phoenix to steal her attentions away.
Euterpe lounged in a cloud of rose and jasmine as she drew the handmade concoction across her wrists and throat, her eyes closing as she took a deep and contented breath. She loved the smell of flowers and would bring it everywhere she could; luckily for her, she could make her own perfumes and did exactly that. Tonight was a special occasion, too—even more reason to bring the heady scent along with her. A night out of the temple spent on the beaches of Colchis was a rare treat, one she intended to enjoy for however long it lasted. And to have such pleasant company to spend it with… an even rarer treat, indeed.
When she received the letter from Anastasia, it had taken her only a moment to remember who she was, the brunette beauty who came to her such a broken thing. Her female patrons were much fewer, but even if that hadn’t been the case, she still would have remembered Ana. There had been something different about her, something poignant and sweet in the way she gave herself over so completely. It was a night she looked back on with fond recollection, and to see her again so unexpectedly delighted her. She accepted her invitation immediately and found another girl to fill in for her evening duties. Euterpe spent so much of her life dedicated to the temple; she felt she deserved the odd night to pursue her own pleasures.
Scarlet hair formed loose curls around her face as she applied a touch of carmine to her lips, kohl smudged lightly around her eyes to brighten their appearance. A pale rose chiton of delicate silk was looped over one shoulder, a golden belt cinching in at the waist as graceful dips of fabric fell to caress the tops of her toes. Thin golden sandals laced to her knees, encasing shapely legs and accentuating the curve of their shape. When she stood to examine herself in her looking glass, she smiled and nodded at her reflection. Yes, this would do.
A small bouquet of anemones and baby’s breath was clutched lightly between her fingers, the scent wafting to join with her own perfume as she walked. Her gait was light and airy as she departed the temple and made her way towards the beach, her heart swelling with joy at the excursion. It had been ages since she’d had reason to step foot on the warm sands, but as soon as she did, she felt like she had come home. No surprise, really, give her goddess’s origins, rising from the sea foam in her golden perfection.
Unlacing her sandals, she carried them instead, wiggling her toes to feel the sand sift between them. Euterpe’s smile brightened at the sensation, hitching up the skirt of her chiton so it wouldn’t drag too badly. Slowly moving toward the water where her footing would be a bit easier, it didn’t take her long to spot the woman who invited her, waving her hand above her head as she called her name, “Anastasia!”
Pale skin painted with the maroons and violets of the setting sun and hair tangling in the sea breeze, Euterpe was a vision as she walked along the shoreline, the Aegean softly lapping back and forth at her ankles. Her soft smile rested easily on plush red lips, broadening even further as she approached Ana.
“Hello,” she greeted her, almost shy. Tucking an errant curl behind her ear, she presented the bouquet she clutched, blushing crimson flowers artfully bound with a golden ribbon. “I brought these for you. A thank you for inviting me here tonight.”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Euterpe lounged in a cloud of rose and jasmine as she drew the handmade concoction across her wrists and throat, her eyes closing as she took a deep and contented breath. She loved the smell of flowers and would bring it everywhere she could; luckily for her, she could make her own perfumes and did exactly that. Tonight was a special occasion, too—even more reason to bring the heady scent along with her. A night out of the temple spent on the beaches of Colchis was a rare treat, one she intended to enjoy for however long it lasted. And to have such pleasant company to spend it with… an even rarer treat, indeed.
When she received the letter from Anastasia, it had taken her only a moment to remember who she was, the brunette beauty who came to her such a broken thing. Her female patrons were much fewer, but even if that hadn’t been the case, she still would have remembered Ana. There had been something different about her, something poignant and sweet in the way she gave herself over so completely. It was a night she looked back on with fond recollection, and to see her again so unexpectedly delighted her. She accepted her invitation immediately and found another girl to fill in for her evening duties. Euterpe spent so much of her life dedicated to the temple; she felt she deserved the odd night to pursue her own pleasures.
Scarlet hair formed loose curls around her face as she applied a touch of carmine to her lips, kohl smudged lightly around her eyes to brighten their appearance. A pale rose chiton of delicate silk was looped over one shoulder, a golden belt cinching in at the waist as graceful dips of fabric fell to caress the tops of her toes. Thin golden sandals laced to her knees, encasing shapely legs and accentuating the curve of their shape. When she stood to examine herself in her looking glass, she smiled and nodded at her reflection. Yes, this would do.
A small bouquet of anemones and baby’s breath was clutched lightly between her fingers, the scent wafting to join with her own perfume as she walked. Her gait was light and airy as she departed the temple and made her way towards the beach, her heart swelling with joy at the excursion. It had been ages since she’d had reason to step foot on the warm sands, but as soon as she did, she felt like she had come home. No surprise, really, give her goddess’s origins, rising from the sea foam in her golden perfection.
Unlacing her sandals, she carried them instead, wiggling her toes to feel the sand sift between them. Euterpe’s smile brightened at the sensation, hitching up the skirt of her chiton so it wouldn’t drag too badly. Slowly moving toward the water where her footing would be a bit easier, it didn’t take her long to spot the woman who invited her, waving her hand above her head as she called her name, “Anastasia!”
Pale skin painted with the maroons and violets of the setting sun and hair tangling in the sea breeze, Euterpe was a vision as she walked along the shoreline, the Aegean softly lapping back and forth at her ankles. Her soft smile rested easily on plush red lips, broadening even further as she approached Ana.
“Hello,” she greeted her, almost shy. Tucking an errant curl behind her ear, she presented the bouquet she clutched, blushing crimson flowers artfully bound with a golden ribbon. “I brought these for you. A thank you for inviting me here tonight.”
Euterpe lounged in a cloud of rose and jasmine as she drew the handmade concoction across her wrists and throat, her eyes closing as she took a deep and contented breath. She loved the smell of flowers and would bring it everywhere she could; luckily for her, she could make her own perfumes and did exactly that. Tonight was a special occasion, too—even more reason to bring the heady scent along with her. A night out of the temple spent on the beaches of Colchis was a rare treat, one she intended to enjoy for however long it lasted. And to have such pleasant company to spend it with… an even rarer treat, indeed.
When she received the letter from Anastasia, it had taken her only a moment to remember who she was, the brunette beauty who came to her such a broken thing. Her female patrons were much fewer, but even if that hadn’t been the case, she still would have remembered Ana. There had been something different about her, something poignant and sweet in the way she gave herself over so completely. It was a night she looked back on with fond recollection, and to see her again so unexpectedly delighted her. She accepted her invitation immediately and found another girl to fill in for her evening duties. Euterpe spent so much of her life dedicated to the temple; she felt she deserved the odd night to pursue her own pleasures.
Scarlet hair formed loose curls around her face as she applied a touch of carmine to her lips, kohl smudged lightly around her eyes to brighten their appearance. A pale rose chiton of delicate silk was looped over one shoulder, a golden belt cinching in at the waist as graceful dips of fabric fell to caress the tops of her toes. Thin golden sandals laced to her knees, encasing shapely legs and accentuating the curve of their shape. When she stood to examine herself in her looking glass, she smiled and nodded at her reflection. Yes, this would do.
A small bouquet of anemones and baby’s breath was clutched lightly between her fingers, the scent wafting to join with her own perfume as she walked. Her gait was light and airy as she departed the temple and made her way towards the beach, her heart swelling with joy at the excursion. It had been ages since she’d had reason to step foot on the warm sands, but as soon as she did, she felt like she had come home. No surprise, really, give her goddess’s origins, rising from the sea foam in her golden perfection.
Unlacing her sandals, she carried them instead, wiggling her toes to feel the sand sift between them. Euterpe’s smile brightened at the sensation, hitching up the skirt of her chiton so it wouldn’t drag too badly. Slowly moving toward the water where her footing would be a bit easier, it didn’t take her long to spot the woman who invited her, waving her hand above her head as she called her name, “Anastasia!”
Pale skin painted with the maroons and violets of the setting sun and hair tangling in the sea breeze, Euterpe was a vision as she walked along the shoreline, the Aegean softly lapping back and forth at her ankles. Her soft smile rested easily on plush red lips, broadening even further as she approached Ana.
“Hello,” she greeted her, almost shy. Tucking an errant curl behind her ear, she presented the bouquet she clutched, blushing crimson flowers artfully bound with a golden ribbon. “I brought these for you. A thank you for inviting me here tonight.”
As Anastasia lounged on top of that blanket, with nothing but the crashing tide to dispel the silence of the evening, she reflected. It'd been two years since she'd first arrived in Colchis, and she was well on her way to becoming the muse she never thought she wanted to be. A storyteller with great purpose, glorifying as many of the Gods as she could find an audience for. She told stories of Apollo, patron of her art and lord of the sky. She told sultry stories of Aphrodite, mostly to gaggles of women. They paid well, but Anastasia craved more. She worshipped Hermes, as well, wearing a pretty face and seducing a couple of men into giving her more than the simple sum that a storyteller could earn.
Thievery wasn't new to Anastasia, for she'd started out her life outside Athenia by stealing a modest sum from her husband. But Calliope was dead, right? What mattered now was the life ahead, and the woman who drew inexorably closer to her. She couldn't hear the approach, footsteps muffled by sand and the visage of her bathed in the darkness. Ana had brought a number of candles, but she wouldn't use them until Euterpe was here. More time to bask in the glow and properly catch the sight of the stunning creature... Ana almost licked her lips, recalling the memory of Euterpe's touch and encouragement.
I can be a phoenix, too, she'd thought once she left that presence, intent on drinking in some of the Harimtu's confidence. But, she'd found herself too intoxicated. An unforgettable experience with such a creature...
When Euterpe approached and called out for Anastasia, the woman felt the breath forced out of her mouth. It was everything she could do to not stare, open-mouthed at the way the Harimtu painted her skin and the bundle in her arms. Crimson dusted Anastasia's lightly painted cheeks, her eyes switching between the two. She rose to her feet, of course, taking a step towards the Harimtu. She offered a smile, noting the light greeting and immediate jump to presenting her gift.
Is she nervous?
Ana felt herself melt at the premise, the idea that she could make such a creature feel any sort of way. The muse stepped forward, closing the distance between them. She pressed her lips to each of Euterpe's cheeks in turn before taking the flowers. She pulled them close to her chest, brushing her nose against them as she took a deep breath. Her bright smile curved into a grin, the elation at being thought of so fondly as to have such a gift...
Anastasia opened up her knapsack, providing the flowers a space to remain bunched up and undamaged, but not before retrieving the bottle of wine and two goblets that she'd brought along, as well as a pair of candles. She'd bury the tall, scented tallow pillars into the ground, but did not yet light them. She turned her attention back towards Euterpe, pressing herself into the Harimtu before shrouding her in an embrace.
"No, thank you for coming. I've not too much planned for us. But, it's been quite a while, so I figured the beach would be a good start? Would you like some wine, my dear?" she asked, pulling away at last before settling on the ground and beckoning the Harimtu to join her.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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As Anastasia lounged on top of that blanket, with nothing but the crashing tide to dispel the silence of the evening, she reflected. It'd been two years since she'd first arrived in Colchis, and she was well on her way to becoming the muse she never thought she wanted to be. A storyteller with great purpose, glorifying as many of the Gods as she could find an audience for. She told stories of Apollo, patron of her art and lord of the sky. She told sultry stories of Aphrodite, mostly to gaggles of women. They paid well, but Anastasia craved more. She worshipped Hermes, as well, wearing a pretty face and seducing a couple of men into giving her more than the simple sum that a storyteller could earn.
Thievery wasn't new to Anastasia, for she'd started out her life outside Athenia by stealing a modest sum from her husband. But Calliope was dead, right? What mattered now was the life ahead, and the woman who drew inexorably closer to her. She couldn't hear the approach, footsteps muffled by sand and the visage of her bathed in the darkness. Ana had brought a number of candles, but she wouldn't use them until Euterpe was here. More time to bask in the glow and properly catch the sight of the stunning creature... Ana almost licked her lips, recalling the memory of Euterpe's touch and encouragement.
I can be a phoenix, too, she'd thought once she left that presence, intent on drinking in some of the Harimtu's confidence. But, she'd found herself too intoxicated. An unforgettable experience with such a creature...
When Euterpe approached and called out for Anastasia, the woman felt the breath forced out of her mouth. It was everything she could do to not stare, open-mouthed at the way the Harimtu painted her skin and the bundle in her arms. Crimson dusted Anastasia's lightly painted cheeks, her eyes switching between the two. She rose to her feet, of course, taking a step towards the Harimtu. She offered a smile, noting the light greeting and immediate jump to presenting her gift.
Is she nervous?
Ana felt herself melt at the premise, the idea that she could make such a creature feel any sort of way. The muse stepped forward, closing the distance between them. She pressed her lips to each of Euterpe's cheeks in turn before taking the flowers. She pulled them close to her chest, brushing her nose against them as she took a deep breath. Her bright smile curved into a grin, the elation at being thought of so fondly as to have such a gift...
Anastasia opened up her knapsack, providing the flowers a space to remain bunched up and undamaged, but not before retrieving the bottle of wine and two goblets that she'd brought along, as well as a pair of candles. She'd bury the tall, scented tallow pillars into the ground, but did not yet light them. She turned her attention back towards Euterpe, pressing herself into the Harimtu before shrouding her in an embrace.
"No, thank you for coming. I've not too much planned for us. But, it's been quite a while, so I figured the beach would be a good start? Would you like some wine, my dear?" she asked, pulling away at last before settling on the ground and beckoning the Harimtu to join her.
As Anastasia lounged on top of that blanket, with nothing but the crashing tide to dispel the silence of the evening, she reflected. It'd been two years since she'd first arrived in Colchis, and she was well on her way to becoming the muse she never thought she wanted to be. A storyteller with great purpose, glorifying as many of the Gods as she could find an audience for. She told stories of Apollo, patron of her art and lord of the sky. She told sultry stories of Aphrodite, mostly to gaggles of women. They paid well, but Anastasia craved more. She worshipped Hermes, as well, wearing a pretty face and seducing a couple of men into giving her more than the simple sum that a storyteller could earn.
Thievery wasn't new to Anastasia, for she'd started out her life outside Athenia by stealing a modest sum from her husband. But Calliope was dead, right? What mattered now was the life ahead, and the woman who drew inexorably closer to her. She couldn't hear the approach, footsteps muffled by sand and the visage of her bathed in the darkness. Ana had brought a number of candles, but she wouldn't use them until Euterpe was here. More time to bask in the glow and properly catch the sight of the stunning creature... Ana almost licked her lips, recalling the memory of Euterpe's touch and encouragement.
I can be a phoenix, too, she'd thought once she left that presence, intent on drinking in some of the Harimtu's confidence. But, she'd found herself too intoxicated. An unforgettable experience with such a creature...
When Euterpe approached and called out for Anastasia, the woman felt the breath forced out of her mouth. It was everything she could do to not stare, open-mouthed at the way the Harimtu painted her skin and the bundle in her arms. Crimson dusted Anastasia's lightly painted cheeks, her eyes switching between the two. She rose to her feet, of course, taking a step towards the Harimtu. She offered a smile, noting the light greeting and immediate jump to presenting her gift.
Is she nervous?
Ana felt herself melt at the premise, the idea that she could make such a creature feel any sort of way. The muse stepped forward, closing the distance between them. She pressed her lips to each of Euterpe's cheeks in turn before taking the flowers. She pulled them close to her chest, brushing her nose against them as she took a deep breath. Her bright smile curved into a grin, the elation at being thought of so fondly as to have such a gift...
Anastasia opened up her knapsack, providing the flowers a space to remain bunched up and undamaged, but not before retrieving the bottle of wine and two goblets that she'd brought along, as well as a pair of candles. She'd bury the tall, scented tallow pillars into the ground, but did not yet light them. She turned her attention back towards Euterpe, pressing herself into the Harimtu before shrouding her in an embrace.
"No, thank you for coming. I've not too much planned for us. But, it's been quite a while, so I figured the beach would be a good start? Would you like some wine, my dear?" she asked, pulling away at last before settling on the ground and beckoning the Harimtu to join her.
Ana’s reaction to the flowers drew a soft smile across Euterpe’s face, indulgent as she gazed on the dark-haired beauty. It only seemed right, to bring her flowers favored by Aphrodite, as her worship was what brought them together in the first place. Her smile grew as Ana carefully set the anemones off to the side, gesturing for Euterpe to join her on the blanket she’d provided.
The priestess happily did so, legs folding gracefully beneath her as she knelt beside her companion. “Wine would be lovely,” she murmured in response to the woman’s offer, a flutter in her heart as Ana pushed herself into her embrace. Her cheek dimpled as she rearranged her arms to encompass the woman within them, stroking a lock of hair back from Ana’s face as she listened to her speak.
“The beach was a perfect choice,” she commented as the wine was poured, taking her own glass with a nod of thanks. Raising it to her mouth, sanguine fluid stained crimson lips before flowing over her tongue. Swallowing deeply of the semi-sweet liquid, Euterpe then turned so she might face the other more fully. “I’m glad you thought to ask me here. It has been at least a year or more since I’ve been. I don’t get to leave the temple very often.”
Euterpe was quiet for a moment as she listened to the steady flow and retreat of the waves, a playful breeze running its fingers through her hair. Perhaps she would have to make it a point to come more often; truly, it was breathtakingly beautiful, and Euterpe was nothing if not an appreciator of beauty. Not only the beauty in a human heart, but that found within the wide world itself—it held her enraptured, breathless when she basked in its glory. Besides, the sea was a sacred place to those of her order… why not find ways to worship along its shores?
“What made you reach out to me?” she asked curiously, breaking her train of thought as an errant fingertip traced along the downy hair of Ana’s forearm. “Not that I’m unhappy about it,” she hastened to add, in case her mind wandered down that path. “But it was certainly unexpected. It has been years since I last saw you. I did not know that you would still remember me now.” There would have no offense taken if she hadn’t; Euterpe was one among many in her world, and she did not expect all of her patrons to take particular note of her. “I am pleased you did, though,” she went on, pressing a gentle kiss to Ana’s hand. “I have not forgotten you.”
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Ana’s reaction to the flowers drew a soft smile across Euterpe’s face, indulgent as she gazed on the dark-haired beauty. It only seemed right, to bring her flowers favored by Aphrodite, as her worship was what brought them together in the first place. Her smile grew as Ana carefully set the anemones off to the side, gesturing for Euterpe to join her on the blanket she’d provided.
The priestess happily did so, legs folding gracefully beneath her as she knelt beside her companion. “Wine would be lovely,” she murmured in response to the woman’s offer, a flutter in her heart as Ana pushed herself into her embrace. Her cheek dimpled as she rearranged her arms to encompass the woman within them, stroking a lock of hair back from Ana’s face as she listened to her speak.
“The beach was a perfect choice,” she commented as the wine was poured, taking her own glass with a nod of thanks. Raising it to her mouth, sanguine fluid stained crimson lips before flowing over her tongue. Swallowing deeply of the semi-sweet liquid, Euterpe then turned so she might face the other more fully. “I’m glad you thought to ask me here. It has been at least a year or more since I’ve been. I don’t get to leave the temple very often.”
Euterpe was quiet for a moment as she listened to the steady flow and retreat of the waves, a playful breeze running its fingers through her hair. Perhaps she would have to make it a point to come more often; truly, it was breathtakingly beautiful, and Euterpe was nothing if not an appreciator of beauty. Not only the beauty in a human heart, but that found within the wide world itself—it held her enraptured, breathless when she basked in its glory. Besides, the sea was a sacred place to those of her order… why not find ways to worship along its shores?
“What made you reach out to me?” she asked curiously, breaking her train of thought as an errant fingertip traced along the downy hair of Ana’s forearm. “Not that I’m unhappy about it,” she hastened to add, in case her mind wandered down that path. “But it was certainly unexpected. It has been years since I last saw you. I did not know that you would still remember me now.” There would have no offense taken if she hadn’t; Euterpe was one among many in her world, and she did not expect all of her patrons to take particular note of her. “I am pleased you did, though,” she went on, pressing a gentle kiss to Ana’s hand. “I have not forgotten you.”
Ana’s reaction to the flowers drew a soft smile across Euterpe’s face, indulgent as she gazed on the dark-haired beauty. It only seemed right, to bring her flowers favored by Aphrodite, as her worship was what brought them together in the first place. Her smile grew as Ana carefully set the anemones off to the side, gesturing for Euterpe to join her on the blanket she’d provided.
The priestess happily did so, legs folding gracefully beneath her as she knelt beside her companion. “Wine would be lovely,” she murmured in response to the woman’s offer, a flutter in her heart as Ana pushed herself into her embrace. Her cheek dimpled as she rearranged her arms to encompass the woman within them, stroking a lock of hair back from Ana’s face as she listened to her speak.
“The beach was a perfect choice,” she commented as the wine was poured, taking her own glass with a nod of thanks. Raising it to her mouth, sanguine fluid stained crimson lips before flowing over her tongue. Swallowing deeply of the semi-sweet liquid, Euterpe then turned so she might face the other more fully. “I’m glad you thought to ask me here. It has been at least a year or more since I’ve been. I don’t get to leave the temple very often.”
Euterpe was quiet for a moment as she listened to the steady flow and retreat of the waves, a playful breeze running its fingers through her hair. Perhaps she would have to make it a point to come more often; truly, it was breathtakingly beautiful, and Euterpe was nothing if not an appreciator of beauty. Not only the beauty in a human heart, but that found within the wide world itself—it held her enraptured, breathless when she basked in its glory. Besides, the sea was a sacred place to those of her order… why not find ways to worship along its shores?
“What made you reach out to me?” she asked curiously, breaking her train of thought as an errant fingertip traced along the downy hair of Ana’s forearm. “Not that I’m unhappy about it,” she hastened to add, in case her mind wandered down that path. “But it was certainly unexpected. It has been years since I last saw you. I did not know that you would still remember me now.” There would have no offense taken if she hadn’t; Euterpe was one among many in her world, and she did not expect all of her patrons to take particular note of her. “I am pleased you did, though,” she went on, pressing a gentle kiss to Ana’s hand. “I have not forgotten you.”
There was something satisfying in the way that Euterpe's gentle touch brushed the wisps of hair from her face. She spoke on without distraction, then once Euterpe parted her lips to speak, her focus was inexorably upon the Harimtu. The embrace between them, the cadence that carried Euterpe's voice... Anastasia found her imagination stretching, taking her back to the evening that the Harimtu spent with Ana. Hopelessly enraptured by the woman's touch, by her gentle assurances... to see that woman, the phoenix who burned away the binds that held her back...
Euterpe liberated Anastasia from more than the name that elicited such terrible memories. She'd unlocked pleasure within her once again, helped stymie the rot that sought to sever her connection to blessed Aphrodite. More than a night of pleasure, what Euterpe provided her was healing, a means forward to liberate herself from a prison that might've persisted for years beyond her escape from Athenia.
A perfect choice?
Anastasia felt the heat bloom within her cheeks as she fingered the stem of her goblet, raising it up to take a sip of her own wine to feel the acidic tang against her tongue. She hummed softly as she listened, hoping that the low sound would not disturb her companion as she spoke. Then, she asked, an expected question, certainly. A question she dearly wanted to answer. To admit her feelings... it was an allure that might've served to draw her back to Colchis itself.
A shiver moved through Anastasia's forearm in the wake of Euterpe's touch, and she nodded in understanding, not let astray by what she asked. The look on Euterpe's face when they'd met gazes... it told her what she wanted desperately to know. Euterpe welcomed Ana's presence, wondered why the girl would even remember her. The bard leaned forward, careful not to disturb too much of the space between them as she shifted her posture. Her knees pressed into the blanketed sand, one hand supporting the woman's weight beneath her as the other settled to brush along the flesh of Euterpe's jawline.
She guided that finely sculpted jaw, and Anastasia abandoned the notion of propriety altogether. A single kissed pressed just beneath Euterpe's ears had the bard's heart racing in her chest. This thrill of proximity, the intoxication she felt. The organ beat against her ribs as she relished in the scent of the Harimtu's perfume. She paused, a brief moment of silence between them only made steeper by the crashing tide not-so-far away from them.
"I doubt that I will ever forget you. Perhaps you saw, Euterpe, when we met... I was broken, severed... And you showed me light. You granted me confidence. You are the phoenix who set me aflame," she whispered into the Harimtu's ear. If she allowed it, Anastasia sought to guide Euterpe's head, intent on claiming a brief touch of the lips from the fiery-haired woman.
"I had to see you again, even if you'll turn me away for this confession."
Ana did not forget Euterpe's place. She was a Harimtu, bound inexorably to Aphrodite and her temple. But, selfishly, she wanted to share in Euterpe's time, to greedily indulge in the proximity to her.
She was intoxicated on a feeling she'd never known before, confirmed only when she saw the Harimtu again.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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There was something satisfying in the way that Euterpe's gentle touch brushed the wisps of hair from her face. She spoke on without distraction, then once Euterpe parted her lips to speak, her focus was inexorably upon the Harimtu. The embrace between them, the cadence that carried Euterpe's voice... Anastasia found her imagination stretching, taking her back to the evening that the Harimtu spent with Ana. Hopelessly enraptured by the woman's touch, by her gentle assurances... to see that woman, the phoenix who burned away the binds that held her back...
Euterpe liberated Anastasia from more than the name that elicited such terrible memories. She'd unlocked pleasure within her once again, helped stymie the rot that sought to sever her connection to blessed Aphrodite. More than a night of pleasure, what Euterpe provided her was healing, a means forward to liberate herself from a prison that might've persisted for years beyond her escape from Athenia.
A perfect choice?
Anastasia felt the heat bloom within her cheeks as she fingered the stem of her goblet, raising it up to take a sip of her own wine to feel the acidic tang against her tongue. She hummed softly as she listened, hoping that the low sound would not disturb her companion as she spoke. Then, she asked, an expected question, certainly. A question she dearly wanted to answer. To admit her feelings... it was an allure that might've served to draw her back to Colchis itself.
A shiver moved through Anastasia's forearm in the wake of Euterpe's touch, and she nodded in understanding, not let astray by what she asked. The look on Euterpe's face when they'd met gazes... it told her what she wanted desperately to know. Euterpe welcomed Ana's presence, wondered why the girl would even remember her. The bard leaned forward, careful not to disturb too much of the space between them as she shifted her posture. Her knees pressed into the blanketed sand, one hand supporting the woman's weight beneath her as the other settled to brush along the flesh of Euterpe's jawline.
She guided that finely sculpted jaw, and Anastasia abandoned the notion of propriety altogether. A single kissed pressed just beneath Euterpe's ears had the bard's heart racing in her chest. This thrill of proximity, the intoxication she felt. The organ beat against her ribs as she relished in the scent of the Harimtu's perfume. She paused, a brief moment of silence between them only made steeper by the crashing tide not-so-far away from them.
"I doubt that I will ever forget you. Perhaps you saw, Euterpe, when we met... I was broken, severed... And you showed me light. You granted me confidence. You are the phoenix who set me aflame," she whispered into the Harimtu's ear. If she allowed it, Anastasia sought to guide Euterpe's head, intent on claiming a brief touch of the lips from the fiery-haired woman.
"I had to see you again, even if you'll turn me away for this confession."
Ana did not forget Euterpe's place. She was a Harimtu, bound inexorably to Aphrodite and her temple. But, selfishly, she wanted to share in Euterpe's time, to greedily indulge in the proximity to her.
She was intoxicated on a feeling she'd never known before, confirmed only when she saw the Harimtu again.
There was something satisfying in the way that Euterpe's gentle touch brushed the wisps of hair from her face. She spoke on without distraction, then once Euterpe parted her lips to speak, her focus was inexorably upon the Harimtu. The embrace between them, the cadence that carried Euterpe's voice... Anastasia found her imagination stretching, taking her back to the evening that the Harimtu spent with Ana. Hopelessly enraptured by the woman's touch, by her gentle assurances... to see that woman, the phoenix who burned away the binds that held her back...
Euterpe liberated Anastasia from more than the name that elicited such terrible memories. She'd unlocked pleasure within her once again, helped stymie the rot that sought to sever her connection to blessed Aphrodite. More than a night of pleasure, what Euterpe provided her was healing, a means forward to liberate herself from a prison that might've persisted for years beyond her escape from Athenia.
A perfect choice?
Anastasia felt the heat bloom within her cheeks as she fingered the stem of her goblet, raising it up to take a sip of her own wine to feel the acidic tang against her tongue. She hummed softly as she listened, hoping that the low sound would not disturb her companion as she spoke. Then, she asked, an expected question, certainly. A question she dearly wanted to answer. To admit her feelings... it was an allure that might've served to draw her back to Colchis itself.
A shiver moved through Anastasia's forearm in the wake of Euterpe's touch, and she nodded in understanding, not let astray by what she asked. The look on Euterpe's face when they'd met gazes... it told her what she wanted desperately to know. Euterpe welcomed Ana's presence, wondered why the girl would even remember her. The bard leaned forward, careful not to disturb too much of the space between them as she shifted her posture. Her knees pressed into the blanketed sand, one hand supporting the woman's weight beneath her as the other settled to brush along the flesh of Euterpe's jawline.
She guided that finely sculpted jaw, and Anastasia abandoned the notion of propriety altogether. A single kissed pressed just beneath Euterpe's ears had the bard's heart racing in her chest. This thrill of proximity, the intoxication she felt. The organ beat against her ribs as she relished in the scent of the Harimtu's perfume. She paused, a brief moment of silence between them only made steeper by the crashing tide not-so-far away from them.
"I doubt that I will ever forget you. Perhaps you saw, Euterpe, when we met... I was broken, severed... And you showed me light. You granted me confidence. You are the phoenix who set me aflame," she whispered into the Harimtu's ear. If she allowed it, Anastasia sought to guide Euterpe's head, intent on claiming a brief touch of the lips from the fiery-haired woman.
"I had to see you again, even if you'll turn me away for this confession."
Ana did not forget Euterpe's place. She was a Harimtu, bound inexorably to Aphrodite and her temple. But, selfishly, she wanted to share in Euterpe's time, to greedily indulge in the proximity to her.
She was intoxicated on a feeling she'd never known before, confirmed only when she saw the Harimtu again.
It was sweet, the way Ana’s lips drew gossamer lines against the skin of her neck, raising goosebumps along her flesh. Euterpe smiled at the sensation, hazel eyes dreamily falling shut in the wake of her mouth. What a beautiful thing, to be here, of her own free desire, spending time with a former patron without the necessity of an offering. To simply enjoy one another’s presence, to feel the blissful joy of the smaller woman’s embrace.
The whisper in her ear drew the priestess’s smile wider, turning to look at the bard with a softness in her gaze. She leaned into the touch at her jaw, pressed into the kiss laid on her lips, her hands winding gently into the lush curls that framed Anastasia’s face. To hear her say such things, to affirm what Euterpe had done for her… it was what the priestess lived for, to mend broken hearts, and set weary souls free through the divine power of love. Knowing she had done so for the once broken soul in grasp was a high she never wanted to come down from. She did not think her spirit could soar any further.
“Why should I turn you away from speaking the truth of your heart?” Euterpe’s voice was warm, like the slide of flesh against silk. Her hand drifted through the dark waterfall of Ana’s hair, stopping to gently clasp the back of her neck. “It is a truth I urge from the mouths of many, but rarely hear with my own ears. There is no need for apology, no worry that I shall send you off. It gladdens me to hear it, more than I have the words to express. To know that the work I do is not in vain.”
Her cheek dimpled with the softness of her smile, one hand unwinding from the beautiful woman’s hair to lightly caress along the curve of her cheekbone. “I can see the light in you now, as surely as you speak it. You are a different creature than the shattered one I hoped to heal those years ago. A flower finally turning its petals to the sun.” Unhurried, undemanding, her own lips descended on Ana’s, a skilled touch of the goddess’s own grace. When she drew away, they curled back into a smile, touching her nose to Ana’s.
“Tell me, my radiant flower, tell me of the light that fills your soul now. Tell me of the flame that melts your heart.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It was sweet, the way Ana’s lips drew gossamer lines against the skin of her neck, raising goosebumps along her flesh. Euterpe smiled at the sensation, hazel eyes dreamily falling shut in the wake of her mouth. What a beautiful thing, to be here, of her own free desire, spending time with a former patron without the necessity of an offering. To simply enjoy one another’s presence, to feel the blissful joy of the smaller woman’s embrace.
The whisper in her ear drew the priestess’s smile wider, turning to look at the bard with a softness in her gaze. She leaned into the touch at her jaw, pressed into the kiss laid on her lips, her hands winding gently into the lush curls that framed Anastasia’s face. To hear her say such things, to affirm what Euterpe had done for her… it was what the priestess lived for, to mend broken hearts, and set weary souls free through the divine power of love. Knowing she had done so for the once broken soul in grasp was a high she never wanted to come down from. She did not think her spirit could soar any further.
“Why should I turn you away from speaking the truth of your heart?” Euterpe’s voice was warm, like the slide of flesh against silk. Her hand drifted through the dark waterfall of Ana’s hair, stopping to gently clasp the back of her neck. “It is a truth I urge from the mouths of many, but rarely hear with my own ears. There is no need for apology, no worry that I shall send you off. It gladdens me to hear it, more than I have the words to express. To know that the work I do is not in vain.”
Her cheek dimpled with the softness of her smile, one hand unwinding from the beautiful woman’s hair to lightly caress along the curve of her cheekbone. “I can see the light in you now, as surely as you speak it. You are a different creature than the shattered one I hoped to heal those years ago. A flower finally turning its petals to the sun.” Unhurried, undemanding, her own lips descended on Ana’s, a skilled touch of the goddess’s own grace. When she drew away, they curled back into a smile, touching her nose to Ana’s.
“Tell me, my radiant flower, tell me of the light that fills your soul now. Tell me of the flame that melts your heart.”
It was sweet, the way Ana’s lips drew gossamer lines against the skin of her neck, raising goosebumps along her flesh. Euterpe smiled at the sensation, hazel eyes dreamily falling shut in the wake of her mouth. What a beautiful thing, to be here, of her own free desire, spending time with a former patron without the necessity of an offering. To simply enjoy one another’s presence, to feel the blissful joy of the smaller woman’s embrace.
The whisper in her ear drew the priestess’s smile wider, turning to look at the bard with a softness in her gaze. She leaned into the touch at her jaw, pressed into the kiss laid on her lips, her hands winding gently into the lush curls that framed Anastasia’s face. To hear her say such things, to affirm what Euterpe had done for her… it was what the priestess lived for, to mend broken hearts, and set weary souls free through the divine power of love. Knowing she had done so for the once broken soul in grasp was a high she never wanted to come down from. She did not think her spirit could soar any further.
“Why should I turn you away from speaking the truth of your heart?” Euterpe’s voice was warm, like the slide of flesh against silk. Her hand drifted through the dark waterfall of Ana’s hair, stopping to gently clasp the back of her neck. “It is a truth I urge from the mouths of many, but rarely hear with my own ears. There is no need for apology, no worry that I shall send you off. It gladdens me to hear it, more than I have the words to express. To know that the work I do is not in vain.”
Her cheek dimpled with the softness of her smile, one hand unwinding from the beautiful woman’s hair to lightly caress along the curve of her cheekbone. “I can see the light in you now, as surely as you speak it. You are a different creature than the shattered one I hoped to heal those years ago. A flower finally turning its petals to the sun.” Unhurried, undemanding, her own lips descended on Ana’s, a skilled touch of the goddess’s own grace. When she drew away, they curled back into a smile, touching her nose to Ana’s.
“Tell me, my radiant flower, tell me of the light that fills your soul now. Tell me of the flame that melts your heart.”
There were two things in this world that Anastasia knew to be true:
Passion was a force in which all other things could be mustered. Creation, destruction and every shade in between was made purer and to shine brighter for its existence.
To deny oneself of passion was to eviscerate the soul and render a person into a carcass with a pulse, heaving itself from place to place.
The broken carcass of Calliope of Aetaea had sought after rebirth, a resurrection of her passion and the will to not merely persist, but to thrive. And while Ana's visit with Euterpe that day wasn't some miracle cure from Aphrodite herself, it did serve as a means of reigniting a spirit within Calliope, a spirit that burned like fire.
The phoenix renewed its flame and soared through the clouds now.
Anastasia felt that same flame burning in her now. How Euterpe's words flowed like a gentle poetry, knitting her sentiments into the weave of Ana's tumultuous emotions. The apprehension in all of this, that worm of fear that threatened to take root in the perfect apple that was this connection... Euterpe plucked it before it could fester and rot it from within.
All it took was a bit of courage on the bard's part... and all of the pieces of the puzzle seemed to lock in place. The gentle poetry was met with a warming touch, digits sifting into Ana's tresses to clasp at the back of her neck. In a range of sensation that made balance difficult, Euterpe's touch provided balance, and she listened, hanging on the Harimtu's every word as she gave Anastasia yet another precious gift.
"It gladdens me to hear it... to know that the work I do is not in vain."
Surely, Euterpe was a star fallen from the heavens, bathed in the glow of Aphrodite herself and given purpose by her glory. Surely, Ana had thought, the Harimtu was lauded and told again and again of her impeccable service and the grace she brought down from the unreachable skies...
No?
If Anastasia's confession was a rarity, or even a delicacy, than she'd feed it again and again to the Harimtu so she could see that smile grace her features.
"I see the light in you now..."
And it was there.
"You are a different creature than the shattered one I hoped to heal..."
And you did.
To give Euterpe all of the credit was, perhaps, an embellishment. Anastasia had met several over the two years who turned her from the Athenian girl envisioning a grander name and life to the storyteller who envisioned the tales she'd weave of lands afar and creatures unseen.
But, she'd give it to her anyway.
For all of the rest... Euterpe was the first to say the words that could make my heart sing again.
When Euterpe met her lips, Ana pressed eagerly into them, feeling the sting of moisture that dabbed against her eyelashes. A blessing upon blessings, one that Anastasia might never want to have end. But, it did, and when Euterpe's nose brushed against those words and she solicited a story from her... she had no option but to comply and share the starlight that lived inside of her, now.
Lips brushed along the flesh of the Harimtu's jaw, tracing the rounded line before she pulled ever-so-gently against her lobe, her teeth catching it playfully before she whispered her answer only for the Harimtu to hear.
"There are so many things I could say... but to start at the beginning...
A fractured soul found herself on a boat to a new land. Starved of compassion, stricken with lashes made from words and from leather, bound and clipped of her wings so that she might never fly..."
A chapter that will hopefully never be re-read in the story of Anastasia of the Siren's Song.
"And then... the shining star fallen from the realm of the Goddess herself. A trickle of starlight that warmed her with an undeniably salacious touch... With her lips... and with a radiance that could never be replicated..."
Ana flashed the briefest of smiles before she wrapped her arms around the Harimtu, her fingertips gently tracing along her back before she completed her tale.
"And now... a siren given legs. No longer does she require wings, but the spectral voice from beyond the aether persists within her. Anastasia of the Siren's Song... touched by the blessing of Aphrodite's chosen. Carried across the lands by Poseidon's waves. Reveling in the bounty given by Dionysus. Truly, she owes her life to the Gods, and she'll spend eternity singing their praises in the hope that the fallen star hears her song."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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There were two things in this world that Anastasia knew to be true:
Passion was a force in which all other things could be mustered. Creation, destruction and every shade in between was made purer and to shine brighter for its existence.
To deny oneself of passion was to eviscerate the soul and render a person into a carcass with a pulse, heaving itself from place to place.
The broken carcass of Calliope of Aetaea had sought after rebirth, a resurrection of her passion and the will to not merely persist, but to thrive. And while Ana's visit with Euterpe that day wasn't some miracle cure from Aphrodite herself, it did serve as a means of reigniting a spirit within Calliope, a spirit that burned like fire.
The phoenix renewed its flame and soared through the clouds now.
Anastasia felt that same flame burning in her now. How Euterpe's words flowed like a gentle poetry, knitting her sentiments into the weave of Ana's tumultuous emotions. The apprehension in all of this, that worm of fear that threatened to take root in the perfect apple that was this connection... Euterpe plucked it before it could fester and rot it from within.
All it took was a bit of courage on the bard's part... and all of the pieces of the puzzle seemed to lock in place. The gentle poetry was met with a warming touch, digits sifting into Ana's tresses to clasp at the back of her neck. In a range of sensation that made balance difficult, Euterpe's touch provided balance, and she listened, hanging on the Harimtu's every word as she gave Anastasia yet another precious gift.
"It gladdens me to hear it... to know that the work I do is not in vain."
Surely, Euterpe was a star fallen from the heavens, bathed in the glow of Aphrodite herself and given purpose by her glory. Surely, Ana had thought, the Harimtu was lauded and told again and again of her impeccable service and the grace she brought down from the unreachable skies...
No?
If Anastasia's confession was a rarity, or even a delicacy, than she'd feed it again and again to the Harimtu so she could see that smile grace her features.
"I see the light in you now..."
And it was there.
"You are a different creature than the shattered one I hoped to heal..."
And you did.
To give Euterpe all of the credit was, perhaps, an embellishment. Anastasia had met several over the two years who turned her from the Athenian girl envisioning a grander name and life to the storyteller who envisioned the tales she'd weave of lands afar and creatures unseen.
But, she'd give it to her anyway.
For all of the rest... Euterpe was the first to say the words that could make my heart sing again.
When Euterpe met her lips, Ana pressed eagerly into them, feeling the sting of moisture that dabbed against her eyelashes. A blessing upon blessings, one that Anastasia might never want to have end. But, it did, and when Euterpe's nose brushed against those words and she solicited a story from her... she had no option but to comply and share the starlight that lived inside of her, now.
Lips brushed along the flesh of the Harimtu's jaw, tracing the rounded line before she pulled ever-so-gently against her lobe, her teeth catching it playfully before she whispered her answer only for the Harimtu to hear.
"There are so many things I could say... but to start at the beginning...
A fractured soul found herself on a boat to a new land. Starved of compassion, stricken with lashes made from words and from leather, bound and clipped of her wings so that she might never fly..."
A chapter that will hopefully never be re-read in the story of Anastasia of the Siren's Song.
"And then... the shining star fallen from the realm of the Goddess herself. A trickle of starlight that warmed her with an undeniably salacious touch... With her lips... and with a radiance that could never be replicated..."
Ana flashed the briefest of smiles before she wrapped her arms around the Harimtu, her fingertips gently tracing along her back before she completed her tale.
"And now... a siren given legs. No longer does she require wings, but the spectral voice from beyond the aether persists within her. Anastasia of the Siren's Song... touched by the blessing of Aphrodite's chosen. Carried across the lands by Poseidon's waves. Reveling in the bounty given by Dionysus. Truly, she owes her life to the Gods, and she'll spend eternity singing their praises in the hope that the fallen star hears her song."
There were two things in this world that Anastasia knew to be true:
Passion was a force in which all other things could be mustered. Creation, destruction and every shade in between was made purer and to shine brighter for its existence.
To deny oneself of passion was to eviscerate the soul and render a person into a carcass with a pulse, heaving itself from place to place.
The broken carcass of Calliope of Aetaea had sought after rebirth, a resurrection of her passion and the will to not merely persist, but to thrive. And while Ana's visit with Euterpe that day wasn't some miracle cure from Aphrodite herself, it did serve as a means of reigniting a spirit within Calliope, a spirit that burned like fire.
The phoenix renewed its flame and soared through the clouds now.
Anastasia felt that same flame burning in her now. How Euterpe's words flowed like a gentle poetry, knitting her sentiments into the weave of Ana's tumultuous emotions. The apprehension in all of this, that worm of fear that threatened to take root in the perfect apple that was this connection... Euterpe plucked it before it could fester and rot it from within.
All it took was a bit of courage on the bard's part... and all of the pieces of the puzzle seemed to lock in place. The gentle poetry was met with a warming touch, digits sifting into Ana's tresses to clasp at the back of her neck. In a range of sensation that made balance difficult, Euterpe's touch provided balance, and she listened, hanging on the Harimtu's every word as she gave Anastasia yet another precious gift.
"It gladdens me to hear it... to know that the work I do is not in vain."
Surely, Euterpe was a star fallen from the heavens, bathed in the glow of Aphrodite herself and given purpose by her glory. Surely, Ana had thought, the Harimtu was lauded and told again and again of her impeccable service and the grace she brought down from the unreachable skies...
No?
If Anastasia's confession was a rarity, or even a delicacy, than she'd feed it again and again to the Harimtu so she could see that smile grace her features.
"I see the light in you now..."
And it was there.
"You are a different creature than the shattered one I hoped to heal..."
And you did.
To give Euterpe all of the credit was, perhaps, an embellishment. Anastasia had met several over the two years who turned her from the Athenian girl envisioning a grander name and life to the storyteller who envisioned the tales she'd weave of lands afar and creatures unseen.
But, she'd give it to her anyway.
For all of the rest... Euterpe was the first to say the words that could make my heart sing again.
When Euterpe met her lips, Ana pressed eagerly into them, feeling the sting of moisture that dabbed against her eyelashes. A blessing upon blessings, one that Anastasia might never want to have end. But, it did, and when Euterpe's nose brushed against those words and she solicited a story from her... she had no option but to comply and share the starlight that lived inside of her, now.
Lips brushed along the flesh of the Harimtu's jaw, tracing the rounded line before she pulled ever-so-gently against her lobe, her teeth catching it playfully before she whispered her answer only for the Harimtu to hear.
"There are so many things I could say... but to start at the beginning...
A fractured soul found herself on a boat to a new land. Starved of compassion, stricken with lashes made from words and from leather, bound and clipped of her wings so that she might never fly..."
A chapter that will hopefully never be re-read in the story of Anastasia of the Siren's Song.
"And then... the shining star fallen from the realm of the Goddess herself. A trickle of starlight that warmed her with an undeniably salacious touch... With her lips... and with a radiance that could never be replicated..."
Ana flashed the briefest of smiles before she wrapped her arms around the Harimtu, her fingertips gently tracing along her back before she completed her tale.
"And now... a siren given legs. No longer does she require wings, but the spectral voice from beyond the aether persists within her. Anastasia of the Siren's Song... touched by the blessing of Aphrodite's chosen. Carried across the lands by Poseidon's waves. Reveling in the bounty given by Dionysus. Truly, she owes her life to the Gods, and she'll spend eternity singing their praises in the hope that the fallen star hears her song."
