myo-031: Locke

Locke laid in bed, eyes dejectedly casting over the lily he had brought back from his visit with goddess Cybele, one that now laid solitary in a small glass vase by his nightstand. Any magic that had rested upon its petals swiftly dissipated as soon as the two had left the goddess' home and he had been staunchly unable to muster any himself since that day, though Cybele's request to take care of the bloom was one that still rung between his ears. The impostor syndrome that loved to pla...

It was surreal, standing in the home of a goddess given flesh. As if Locke had walked straight into the watercolor pages of a storybook, the warm delicate hues of the greenery around him seemed unreal, and in taking in the scene he hadn't realized that he simply stopped breathing. Huffing out a pitiful gasp of air, the pheromoo silently thanked his penchant for wearing sunglasses to most occasions, as he was making his best effort to look absolutely Anywhere but the goddess in front of him. A...

It seemed obvious in hindsight- of course a goddess of fertility would both associate with and prefer gifts that were grown in nature; Her garden was of course created with the goddess' image and preferences in mind. Locke seemed almost foolish in the moment having to have Rune point it out to him, but one surmises that's what happens when you lose the forest for the trees as it were. Taking Rune's advice to heart, it was as if a lightbulb had gone off. He had an idea- or, at least, the Start...

Seeing Vanessa so out of sorts with her research was disheartening, and while Locke didn't understand the reasoning to her frustration, at the end of the day the difficulty in procuring anything of use was a load that could be lessened if there were only another set of helping hands to assist her. While this wasn't how he was Planning to spend his visit to the cauldron, once she stormed off he found himself hard pressed to not do anything about it. And, at the very least the pheromoo wasn't e...

Working nights is a double edged sword- while, on one hand, it's nice to avoid any sort of rush in coming home and not having to get up at the crack of dawn, the other side is the dreary feeling that comes when one finally crosses that threshold after a long night to the sun bearing down into their windows, and the acknowledgement you're not one with the waking world. Dragging his hooves, the pheromoo who elected to have a job that was at times physically demanding as soon as the sun came dow...

Amber tones of early morning light hugged the dew from the night prior cradled against the leaves, pooling off into tiny rivulets as they're disturbed by a figure coasting through the brush. At this time of year, Cybele's Garden was typically host to a plethora of couples and throuples offering up displays of love to their goddess, however a rather frightful rain the night prior had left the earth muddy, the now slick and frigid earth generally an unwelcome presence as it clung to one's fetlo...