Smut, Gen, Angst, Fluff, Anything, Everything. PFL era, Post war, Pre Canon, AU, ETC, Full starter or pic prompt, drop it like it's hot Brackets or Prose whatever you're comfortable with Tag and go!
"I was thinking six weeks." His mother is pretty particular about lunar cycles and shit like this (why did he never notice how weird that was growing up, what the hell) but he didn't trust her to stick to that because he knew she did that shit. "Mom's sneaky. Dad's pretty clueless but Mom? Sneaky. Kept asking if I was seeing anyone or having strange dreams."
Which weirded him out a little but, hey. "There are wetnaps in the bag- I grabbed 'em for you."
"You mean seeing me." Her tone is dry, before attention fixates on the ribs, an appreciative nod given for the wetnaps. No longer requiring extras, she resumes her place by the window, tail curling around one leg as she levitates into the air.
"Traveling dreams, like me in Ireland or something like that. Anything with stone circles and she's not as subtle about this as she thinks she is. She knows I'm studying the historical and literary basis for mythology." Obligatory finger quotes around 'mythology' as it's not that much of a myth.
"Attempting to ascertain if any awakening may be occurring in other ways then."
She taps a stripped rib against her lips, before rotating mid air, brows furrowed. "So, have you?" It is, oddly enough, a valid question by your mother. Or were you bed hopping so much prior to departure to avoid dreaming?
"Probably. I told her no, that it was nothing or the nightmares from the tour and the subject changed." He has them less often, now, but strange beds always kinda do that to him.
Lo mein in hand he settles on the sofa as is custom, beer flicked open with a little snap of power. "Mm? Well, yeah. Only one. Didn't actually walk into the circle because I know better but- I heard D again."
"It's good you did not enter. You would not find what your heart seeks there." The Fae were never kind, or kindly. And besides, he already has a pact in place. She does not look sympathetic, exactly, but there's an understanding there as to the difficulty he faced. "Will your studies continue with that line for a while longer, or are you changing culture soon?"
"I wonder if I can't find him again." It's been over a decade but- he wonders. Kinda nice to have such a reliable and understanding friend- not that Carolina isn't there's just this.
Really sexy tension. He's working on ignoring or. not ignoring.
It depends.
"I'm gonna put another few articles and videos on it before I move on to theoretical east Asian. I am not doing practical work there because sneezing wrong gets your ass haunted."
So much tension. Not really helped by how she stretches out her wings and back, before resettling.
"To do so, you would need to start closest to where you first met." A shrug. "Or where you were parted. And I do not believe either of your memories on that subject are clear enough yet to determine that."
Ouch, Carolina. But let it not be said that she is not practical. She does laugh, however, at the mention of hauntings. "Not here. I am here." She called dibs.
Don't watch the way her spine twists, don't watch the shoulders, definitely don't watch the neck.
And, like always, he watches anyway because...well. Look at her! How can he not? Respectfully. At least it is a respectful aesthetic admiration. "I think having my mind scrambled by my own mother is as good an excuse as any for that, huh?"
Things he didn't know he should feel bitter about until he learned otherwise. Fun times. "Yeah but this is like, 1000 year hauntings by floating heads with tongues that suck your blood. I can probably contact a specialist, have them handle the practical side of things."
"To protect you." A reminder, though it's unclear if she speak to admonish, or with contempt. Fact is fact.
From what, or who, or why - well. She no doubt has her reasons. And once York is deeply seated in his power, he can confront her on that. But, she doubts that will be any time soon.
"You have an inventive imagination, but the television-box is not correct. Such curses would be Mesopotamian in origin." She licks her fingers, finished with her meal, and settles to watch him eat his lo-mein.
"Something like that." Very much something. Whatever it was he'll figure it out later.
When he's pretty sure it won't get done to him over again for reasons. Sneaky, motherly reasons. "Soo...finish up the UK, do Mesopotamia instead? I don't know that we've got a class on those."
Tying this venture in with his actual degree has taken some creative accounting for credit hours and the like. "I'll dig around, see what I can't swing. How were your ribs?"
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Which weirded him out a little but, hey. "There are wetnaps in the bag- I grabbed 'em for you."
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"Strange dreams in what fashion?"
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She taps a stripped rib against her lips, before rotating mid air, brows furrowed. "So, have you?" It is, oddly enough, a valid question by your mother. Or were you bed hopping so much prior to departure to avoid dreaming?
no subject
Lo mein in hand he settles on the sofa as is custom, beer flicked open with a little snap of power. "Mm? Well, yeah. Only one. Didn't actually walk into the circle because I know better but- I heard D again."
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Really sexy tension. He's working on ignoring or. not ignoring.
It depends.
"I'm gonna put another few articles and videos on it before I move on to theoretical east Asian. I am not doing practical work there because sneezing wrong gets your ass haunted."
no subject
"To do so, you would need to start closest to where you first met." A shrug. "Or where you were parted. And I do not believe either of your memories on that subject are clear enough yet to determine that."
Ouch, Carolina. But let it not be said that she is not practical. She does laugh, however, at the mention of hauntings. "Not here. I am here." She called dibs.
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And, like always, he watches anyway because...well. Look at her! How can he not? Respectfully. At least it is a respectful aesthetic admiration. "I think having my mind scrambled by my own mother is as good an excuse as any for that, huh?"
Things he didn't know he should feel bitter about until he learned otherwise. Fun times. "Yeah but this is like, 1000 year hauntings by floating heads with tongues that suck your blood. I can probably contact a specialist, have them handle the practical side of things."
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From what, or who, or why - well. She no doubt has her reasons. And once York is deeply seated in his power, he can confront her on that. But, she doubts that will be any time soon.
"You have an inventive imagination, but the television-box is not correct. Such curses would be Mesopotamian in origin." She licks her fingers, finished with her meal, and settles to watch him eat his lo-mein.
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When he's pretty sure it won't get done to him over again for reasons. Sneaky, motherly reasons. "Soo...finish up the UK, do Mesopotamia instead? I don't know that we've got a class on those."
Tying this venture in with his actual degree has taken some creative accounting for credit hours and the like. "I'll dig around, see what I can't swing. How were your ribs?"
He asks, slurping down a mouthful of noodles.