Prysmcat's Fantasy

This one got long, sorry! You’ll see why. I broke it in two to make it more manageable. – Steph

Leo was not expecting, when he came into Ophelia’s room—with great care that layers of skirts didn’t sweep anything off a counter—that he would find Thalia present as well. The wicked grins they had in common, well, those were less of a surprise.

“Still looking good,” Thalia teased. “And you haven’t switched back to jeans.”

“Dora dared me,” Leo said, spreading both hands. “What can I do? I’m helpless. Besides, I think I’m sort of getting used to it. It’s not actually uncomfortable.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Too much clothing makes me itch. Outside of Hallowe’en, I frequently wear nothing at all.”

“Talk about getting back to nature,” Ophelia teased. “So. We were hoping you’d be back. We collaborated.”

“That’s an alarming thought,” Leo said, “considering what you do separately.”

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“Yes, of course,” Dora said to Amerie, and offered a slim hand, palm up.

Amerie laid hers briefly over it.

“Do you see anything new?” Amerie asked, inspecting her own skin, which was still largely exposed by her black halter and short skirt and boots. She could see the colourful tattoo of Ophelia with her bright snakes on her upper right arm, a sinuous blue blob around her left thigh that nonetheless looked like Sally, green Thalia on her lower left arm with her flowery hair spread wide around her. She could see the steel armour prominent on her right forearm, the glass-like flower, the music room’s harp, a chair, a couple of plants from Thalia’s loggia, a goblet of cranberry glass, all in clear lines and vivid colour on her skin… anything she had touched since she had eaten the small round fresh cake Thalia had offered her thickly spread with a yellowish-orange jelly. It had tasted sweet and fresh as spring, and she’d finished it with enthusiasm, even knowing it was certain to do something unexpected to her.

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“You really do have a lot in that wagon,” Leo observed. He’d stopped exploring the room in general and settled into investigating the contents of the sideboard cabinet.

“I try to be ready for anything,” Lennox said, rummaging in it. “Old buildings aren’t necessarily completely safe, and at this time of year, it can be a long cold night if you don’t come prepared.”

“Yeah? But do you have…” Leo held up his find. “A simple deck of playing cards? C’mon, we’ve got nothing to do and lots of time to do it in. What’s your favourite game? I might know it, a friend of mine loves games and she taught me a bunch.”

“You want to play cards.”

“Why not? What else are you going to do? Sit and look out the window all night? There must be something you like playing.”

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Trace watched Ophelia make her way to a cabinet, then return with a small bottle full of something light greenish-brown. She held it out to him on her palm.

Trace accepted it, and raised it to tilt it, watching how thick the liquid inside was.

“It won’t taste bad,” the gorgon added.

With a shrug, Trace wriggled the cork out. “I owe Wanda, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Well, it does,” Wanda said. “I wouldn’t push it if something was really a problem.”

Trace shrugged again and swallowed the contents in a few gulps. There was perhaps half a cup of thick liquid, and it tasted of apple cider with a hint of spice.

“I quite like that one,” Ophelia said. “Thalia provided a couple of the ingredients, and it turned out beautifully. We collaborate now and then, and the results can be wonderful but are usually somewhat complex.” She reached out to take the empty bottle.

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“I think before I get into that more active involvement you mentioned,” Diana said, “I’d really like to go back to the library. Richard said there were historical photos and paintings there, and a book with info about the construction. I do want to do other things, but I want to see what’s in the library. That should give all those perogies time to digest so I don’t make myself sick.”

They’d been delicious, perfect dough stuffed with seasoned mashed potatoes and then separate ingredients for each flavour, and she’d tried bacon and onion and cheese and mushroom varieties, along with the homemade sausage and the mixed vegetables that had been offered as well. She was glad her dress was loose with no corset to put pressure on her abdomen, because she’d stuffed herself so thoroughly she felt like the little octopus on Neon’s shoulder, content and unwilling to move much. Neon had eaten as well, though she’d skipped the bacon perogies and sausage, and Diana had been slowed somewhat answering Neon’s curious questions about her blog and the research she did and why she was so fascinated by this part of the past.

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