Ode on a Grecian Yearn

After a slight Esoterotica hiatus I’m back on my bullshit with another Multiple-Choice Misadventure! And I haven’t learned anything about historical accuracy since the last one.

You are Daphne. Not the one from Scooby Doo — I mean the Greek nymph. You’re currently on tinder. Not the app — I mean that you just had to turn into a goddamn tree to stop that horndog Apollo from dragging you into an evening of epic poetry and chill. He seemed nice enough when you were talking to him on Tinder (and I do mean the app that time,) but in person… he’s a major creeper. Not creepy enough that he would try to fuck a tree, your plan totally worked there, but he was definitely too skeezy for you to want to touch as a human.

Which leaves you at an impasse. A woman’s still got needs.

Once you’re sure the coast is clear, you turn back into a human and since you are being written by a man you immediately admire your breasts in the reflection of a nearby lake for about five minutes.

You still don’t have any plans for this evening, so you take out your phone and find that you have three new messages from eager suitors.

The first message appears to be yet another dick pic from Zeus, only he’s a swan in this one. Eeewwwwww.

The second message is from a man named Pentheus. There are pictures of him next to his chariot, lounging on the balcony of his palace, giving a speech at so–waitwait, palace? Scroll back. Yeah, that’s his own frickin’ palace.

Whoever sent the third message has profile pictures of themselves posing with the corpse of a giant boar they’ve killed, and… one of them wrestling a lion? Ohmigod is that really HERCULES macking on you?!

To respond to Pentheus and have him buy you whatever the Greek equivalent of Cosmopolitans were, turn to page 2.

To respond to Hercules because you want to give the Hydra a run for its money as far as head goes, turn to page 3.


2

Pentheus texts you his address and you arrive at his lavish palace, where he’s sprawled out on a cushion while servants fan him with giant palm fronds and feed him grapes. He’s kind of basic by the standards of kings, really. We even has that bro-y Caesar hairstyle that probably shouldn’t exist for a couple centuries. He’s also surrounded by eight or nine women in various states of undress, rubbing their hands all over him and intermittently moaning and sighing.

“Daphne, girl, what’s good?” he says as you approach. “Wanna get in on this? Got some room on my left thigh that isn’t getting felt up.”

“What the heck is going on here?” you say.

“Some tool named Bacchus was wandering around earlier talking about how everybody should acknowledge his divinity and weird shit like that, so I had the guards throw him out of the city. It impressed the hell out of these bitches and now they can’t get enough of Big P here. HEY, OW!”

One of the women pulls a hand back, her nails having opened a scratch on his side and drawn blood. He tosses a handful of grapes from his servant at her. Bitches love grapes.

The women are all attractive enough, but ehh… you’re getting a weird vibe and don’t really feel like getting tagged in to a gangbang with frat-king there. Plus other women have also started clawing at him with their nails — he probably doesn’t have enough grapes to sate them all. You start backing for the door as a couple of the fawning women grab a hold of each of his arms and start to yank.

So possible lay #1 has been torn apart by the Bacchae. What do you do now?

Hercules is still thirsty. Respond to him on page 3.

You have another message from username XXdarkoneXX… his profile picture is him standing with a group of friends and it’s kind of hard to tell which one he is, but you hope he’s the only one in the group who’s not on fire.
That must be HADES! Respond to him on page 4.


3

You agree to meet Hercules for coffee which let’s just assume they had in Greece for convenience’s sake. You notice his lionskin loincloth is cinched with a pretty stylish belt with a little metal H as the buckle. Not bad; dude knows how to dress himself.

He comes off as a little bro-y in conversation, but you’re more than willing to overlook that for the fact that he looks like he was chiseled out of marble then immediately fucked the sculptor. The date is progressing amiably enough until a woman shouts, “Hey Fuckboy,” from across the street.

She walks over, about as broad and tall as he is, carrying a much gaudier belt over her shoulder. It’s like two inches thick with a burned-on dragon design trailing around it, and an even bigger metal H on its belt buckle, which is set on a giant turquoise oval. With a metal horse rearing up on either side.

“I think you took the wrong one when you were sneaking out of bed last night,” she says, then drops the belt onto your table.

“Ah, sorry about that Hippolyta,” he says, taking off her belt and handing it back.

Man. You aren’t looking to be just another hit-and-run for Hercusleaze, so you excuse yourself and check your phone in the restroom to find another course of action.

To respond to the rich guy from earlier, turn to page 2.

You have another message from username XXdarkoneXX… his profile picture is him standing with a group of friends and it’s kind of hard to tell which one he is, but you hope he’s the only one in the group who’s not on fire.
That must be HADES! Respond to him on page 4.


4

You go home, change into a lighter-weight breathable toga and head on down to Hades. There’s actually just a cave you can walk through, I don’t mean that you killed yourself to be with him or anything.

When you approach his palace you’re greeted by the skittering claws and excited wheezing of his three-headed pug. A rather annoyed-looking woman also shoulders past you carrying a lamp. Hades approaches you, all pyramid studs and baggy JNCO toga.

“Who was that?” you ask.

“Oh, that’s Persephone,” he says with a dismissive gesture. “We’re in an open relationship and she’s totally fine with-”

“I’m only going to be gone SIX MONTHS,” Persephone says as she walks through the room again carrying an armful of clothes. “I can’t believe you can’t keep it in your pants for just six goddamn months you emo little-”

“It’s taking her a little time to adjust but things will be-”

“Look,” you say, “nothing against polyamory in principle but I’m not getting involved if everybody involved isn’t totally cool with it.”

Hades flips his Devilock out of his eyes. “We just need to have a little chat about my relationship needs and-”

Suddenly, a third woman appears out of thin air on Hades’ couch. The new woman looks around in shock for a moment, then shouts, “HE FORGOT YOUR FUCKING INSTRUCTIONS?!”

“Euridyce?” Hades says.

“You scheduled two dates for the same time?” says Persephone. She picks up Cerberus and storms off, calling him a tool as the door swings shut.

“No, honey, I’m not trying to bed this one!” Hades calls after her. He would turn back to try and address you, but you’re already on your way out of his palace as well.

As you’re ascending the cave out of the underworld you pass by a confused and distraught man carrying a harp, but fortunately your days of trying to date musicians are well behind you.

Checking your phone again, you see a message from user OceanKing1. He has profile pictures with him holding every known species of fish, and asks you to meet him at a specific cafe. Specifically, the one on page 5.

You notice a man passing by carrying a woman over his shoulder. On closer inspection the guy is frickin’ stacked and it’s actually an entire statue of Artemis he’s carrying. Stop him and see what all that’s about on page 6.


5

You head to the cafe and wait. Poseidon doesn’t show up for fifteen minutes, so you message him asking where he is.

“Sorry,” he responds, “let’s try meeting here instead,” and he gives you the address of a local sculpture garden. You hoof it over there and wait… again… and message him again when he doesn’t show.

“OMG, I’m really sorry Odysseus, why don’t we meet at-”

“Uh… my name is Daphne,” you respond.

“I’m sorry, D. Is it OK if I call you Odysseus though? It’s… kind of a thing of mine,” followed by a blushing emoji.

You sigh — actually sighing, you don’t type asterisk-sigh-asterisk — but you’ve put up with stranger requests. You agree and he tells you to meet him in the town square in thirty minutes. Forty minutes later, he’s still a no-show, but tells you to meet him at what turns out to be the first address he told you to meet him at again.

You ask around on the Athens subreddit and a user named ManicCirceDG tells you that she’s a friend of Poseidon’s. Turns out the guy has a reputation for sending people around on overly-long fruitless quests and gets off on watching them get lost. On the other hand, if he asks you if you want to high-five his cyclops there’s like a 90% chance he’s being literal and not a creep.

It would be pretty cool to meet a cyclops, you think, but there are probably less manipulative ways to go about it. Unfortunately you don’t have a lot of time to follow that train of thought as you’re pretty sure that swan flying overhead just put a wing into its beak and wolf-whistled at you.

Dammit, that’d have to be Zeus.

You run for cover on page 7.


6

You try to wave the guy down but he’s moving at a pretty quick pace. You run and catch up to him with a “hey sailor” as you approach.

“Soldier, actually,” he says, without slowing down.

“Well, you sure seem to be soldiering on with that thing. Where you headed?”

“Away.”

“Away from what?”

He gestures vaguely behind him. Off in the distance, a little past the cave mouth, you can see three figures fully covered in red robes walking steadily in your direction. They appear to be carrying knives.

“You’re in an open relationship too?”

“Uh… in a sense… but not with them, no.”

“What are those then?”

“Just the Furies.”

“Oh Gods no I’m not into that scene.”

“No, FURIES. One R.”

“Oh.” You personally think a man with priors is kind of hot in a bad-boy sort of way. “So, what’d you do?”

“Just a little… y’know, a fun night that got out of hand… a little matricide.”

“What was that?”

“…Matricide.”

“You killed your frickin’ mother?”

“Well she killed my father just because he spent years directing troops to kill thousands of people in a frivolous war overseas!”

“Dude!”

You shove hard on the base of the statue he’s carrying, which tips him off balance and causes him to fall arse-over-teakettle. Upon seeing this, the Furies shriek with what’s probably glee to them and pick up their pace. You run off in the opposite direction before the blood starts flying.

You’ve practically run back to town when you notice a swan flying overhead has just put a wing into its beak and wolf-whistled at you.

Dammit, that’d have to be Zeus.

You run for cover on page 7.


7

You run through town chased by a swan that’s cat-calling you all the while. Swan-calling? Either way it’s fucking embarrassing.

He chases you through the streets, past bystanders who are either too surprised by the scene to act or too indifferent to bother helping you. You run through the town square past Orpheus playing a Jack Johnson cover, past Hercules still trying to apologize to Hippolyta, and as you’re running past the harbor you notice a small dinghy (not that kind) sitting on a dock. You dive down and flip the boat over onto yourself. You hear the swan pecking and swatting at the underside of the boat for some moments, then you hear a sudden thump, followed by what definitely sounds like the word ‘fuck’ shouted through a swan’s vocal apparatus.

You peer out from under the boat to see a woman holding an oar swinging it wildly at Zeus as he waddles away as fast as his legs will carry him. Once the fowl god is out of sight, she turns back to you.

“Are you okay under there?”

“Yes,” you say, crawling out from underneath the boat.

“Y’all didn’t damage it or anything, did you? I’m kind of on a schedule here and need to get going.”

“No, I think it’s alright. Thank you for stepping in there.”

“Oh, think nothing of it,” she says, hefting a bag of papyrus onto her shoulder. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” she flips her boat right-side-up and begins dragging it to the end of the dock. You catch up and extend a hand. “I’m Daphne,” you say.

“Sappho,” she says, shaking your hand.

“Sooo, where you sailin’ to?”

Before she answers, your phone buzzes.

New message from OceanKing1: OMG i see where this is going can i watch

-fin-

 

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