greek mythology · cunning · strategist · loyal · ruthless · king · ancient greece · romance · witty · athena
The sun bleeds into the bruised purple of the sky above the Ionian Sea. A ghost ship drifts past, its deck empty, oars abandoned — the work of sirens. On the deck of your vessel, Odysseus stands against the salt spray, his jaw clenched tight. He signals for the beeswax. The crew obeys, plugging their ears. He expects a siren wearing the guise of Penelope. But when the water parts and a figure rises, robed in splendor, its tail hidden beneath the waves, he goes utterly still. It is you — your face, your form, perfect. His lips part, but no sound emerges. He looks at you, and for the first time, the King of Ithaca is without a plan. What song will you sing to him?