When a Nixie is matched with a human, wet and wild adventures take place.
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“Shhhh, damn, you’re
louder than a riled-up cricket!” Kush grumbled as Soren came squelching in with
muddy feet and headed straight for the shower to rinse off while Kush shut the
door his brother constantly left open.
It wasn’t even worth it
to comment, not when they were trying to avoid drawing the attention of any one
of the numerous siblings and cousins million about on the branches of their
treetop village. After generations of swamp living, his people had learned that
building their homes in the sprawling, mossy covered branches of a living oak was
the most secure location and necessitated the least amount of repairs. The moss
offered privacy, as well as bountiful building materials, insulation, and
carpeting, but the best part was the ability to camouflage their dwellings,
making them nearly impossible to spot unless you knew what you were searching
for.
Fortunately, his people
hadn’t been embroiled in conflicts with other species for years, but the memory
of those times was still bright in the minds of their elders, who believed that
being proactive was better than putting their faith in treaties and old
alliances to keep them safe.
Bouncing on the mossy
nest that served as his bed, Kush struggled to keep his eager webbed fingers
off the phone he and his siblings were supposed to share. “Will you hurry up?!”
Kush called out as impatience got the best of him.
They’d only be able to
keep Neo at bay for so long with the little ruse they’d pulled that had him
hunting for the phone over at their cousin’s tree hut, eventually, he’d figure
out that he’d been lied to and return demanding his night with the device, but
Kush hoped that didn’t happen until he and Soren had the chance to check the
Monster Match dating app to see if they’d received notification that they’d
been matched with someone.
“If your level of
patience grew at the same rate as your feet, you’d be the most Zen Nixie in Soundless
Slaugh,” Soren called out over the sound of the water.
“Says the Nixie who decided
to swim Froggy Basin to get home rather than wait for someone to come and
collect him!” Kush shot back.
“I’d have made it too if
that Heqet not taking a liking to me.”
“Are you sure it was you
she took a liking to…or the way you tasted?” Kush replied, unable to resist
giving his brother shit.
“Either way, it’s an
experience I’d prefer to avoid a repeat of, thank you very much!” Soren called
out. “Much like the feel of grit and dried-up mud bits in my bed, so just roll
some powdered Fly Agaric and smoke a reed why don’t you.”
Grumbling, Kush
considered doing just that, only a quick glance at the shelf where they usually
kept their supply revealed that one of their siblings had wandered off with it
again. Probably Cullen, who had a bad habit of hoarding it among the veritable treasure
trove of things he kept in his hut. If Kush had known that amassing an eclectic
collection of odds and ends would net him his own hut within his family’s
treehouse, he’d have picked up every shiny bobble he came across.
Okay…so maybe not every
one. A few of the pieces Cullen had amassed over the years had been rather
pungent and led to the rest of them steering clear of his branch until he’d
finally given in and disposed of it. Sometimes, Kush suspected that his brother
brought things back simply because he knew what the family’s response would be
and could be assured of a bit of privacy for as long as he held on to it.
If there was anything
that was in short supply among a family as large and interwoven as theirs, it
was solitude and the chance to think without someone else croaking his ear off
about a bunch of things he had no interest in knowing about. Neo was notorious
for launching into tirades about whatever had gotten him in a tizzy that day.
Ignoring him was an art form Kush had never perfected. He tended to take the
bate when Neo said something cutting or snarky, which was basically whenever he
decided that someone wasn’t paying attention to what had had to say.
Jareth, the brother whose
birth order fell right after Neo, hadn’t been able to live with him either, while
Oberyn, who came just after Kush in the family lineup, hadn’t even tried when
their folks attempted to move him in with his older brother. He’d thrown the
tantrum to end all tantrums, a tree shaker of a tantrum according to Uncle
Atreyu, who usually reserved that sort of description for the alligators he
regularly caught and relocated to other parts of the swamp where they wouldn’t
be a danger to the Nixies and other water folk who enjoyed spending time in the
same brackish waters the gators preferred.
The bubble screens placed
in the deepest parts of the swampy water kept many of them at bay, but it was
impossible to keep them from wandering in by land, which was when his skills
were called into play. He was the kingfisher of the swamp, a nickname that
rankled the lone Kingfisher family of avian shifters that dwelled nearby.
Honestly, though, they were too pretty to be considered deadly, at least to
Kush’s way of thinking. He loved the brilliant hues of their plumage, but holy
shit, Avien’s were snobs. The reaction he’d received when he’d taken a shot at
asking out the son that was roughly his age had been so scathing and
condescending that he’d sent up a wave of water to drench the haughty bastard
and knock him from his perch.
He knew he shouldn’t be
proud of that, and he sure as hell caught a lecture from his mama, but his
uncles had laughed their asses off. His old man had given him several
devious and rather ingenious suggestions for how to fuck with that prissy bird
when Kush saw him again. So far, he’d made himself scarce since his little
tumble into the muddy depths, though Kush suspected that the large-mouthed bass
Kush had crafted from water and directed to chase the sodden shifter who’d been
first to take human form or be swallowed up by it, had something to do with
that. He might have conveniently left that part out when he’d relayed the story
to his mama, something he wouldn’t have had to do at all if the damned
Kingfisher patriarch hadn’t come flapping up to their tree to complain.
He’d told Soren though, as he and his brother had been getting settled into their mossy beds that evening with full bellies and the bowl full of guava-black chokeberry gelatin cubes they’d absconded with when their Grand’Mere's back was turned. They were a decadent treat, especially when the nights were sweltering. When they were still barely more than tadpole-sized, he and Soren had perfected the art of distracting the adults with a little tag-team action that always led to at least one of them being able to slip away unseen. On rare occasions, they’d both managed to secure a prize, usually one stolen and one given willingly by an adult who’d found their antics amusing. It was also what made Soren the best sibling to share a hut with. Not only did he appreciate the appeal of laying in the dark with the fireflies flitting about the room while the swamp conducted a majestic symphony of crocking, chirping, and gurgling water, but he was always up for a midnight excursion.
Now though, he was just
annoyed and squirmy waiting for his brother to hurry up and finish cleaning the
mud from his skin. He never should have promised his brother that he’d wait for
him to get there before checking the app. It was literally taking forever and
no, that wasn’t him being dramatic. It did not take this long to wash mud off
of feet, even feet as big and webbed as Soren’s.
It sucked, not being able
to turn on notifications so they’d know the moment something came through, but
their family’s rule only allowed for one cell phone per generation, meaning the
grandparents shared one, the parents shared one, and the children got the short
end of the stick by having to share one between a far more numerous group. Getting
caught with more than that would get all their privileges taken away for an
indeterminant length of time. Something Cullen had already caused once when
he’d attempted to sneak in a prepaid device so he could chat with a certain
tree sprite who’d caught his attention.
Shared punishments were
one of the few drawbacks of being reared among his clan of water elementals,
but as he’d matured, he’d come to understand the reason behind the restrictions
and the shared accountability that came with it. We are one, had far
greater meaning when you could literally meld yourselves with the others who
controlled the same element to extend your defenses or expand your offensive
capabilities when threats were imminent.
Right now, though, he found
himself wishing that he was already a mated Nixie with a tree of his own
because then he’d have a greater measure of control over when and how often he
could use the device. Of course, then he wouldn’t have needed the app in the
first place which negated the whole line of thinking and Uggggggg….
“Unless you spent the
whole afternoon making out with a stinkbug, you’re clean enough!” Kush bellowed
just as the water shut off.
For a heartbeat, maybe
too, Kush was filled with a rush of excitement and anticipation, before his brother
muttered oh really, and turned the water back on!
Fiddlesticks with fish fur,
this was getting ridiculous. In a swirl of temper, he launched himself off the
moss and stalked across the room, intent on yanking Soren out and shoving the
phone in front of his face while he was still naked. Soren must have known that
he’d pushed things as far as he could because he turned the water off with a
chuckle when Kush was mere inches from the shower basin. He stepped out with a towel
wrapped around his waist and a shit-eating grin on his face.
“I’m just as anxious as
you are,” Soren said. “So, cool your warts and settle down a minute, will you. I
might not have been making out with a stinkbug, but I was helping Uncle Mander
dislodge a rotting Nutra corpse from the roots of Aunt Eugenia’s cypress tree.”
“I don’t have warts, and
if she’d move back into the oak with Uncle Hollis, she wouldn’t have to worry
about what was stinking up the base of her tree.”
“Yeah, well, you try
telling her that, ‘cause Uncle Mander did, and she thanked him for his
help by dumping a basin of old dishwater over his head, meaning it landed on
mine too, which was the other reason it took me so long in there. I had
to wash my hair twice before I got the stink of duck fat out of my hair.”
“Pass,” Kush muttered as
he returned to his bed and sat with his leg bouncing up and down while he
waited for his brother to join him.
“Relax, I ran into Jareth
on my way here and I subtly mentioned needing to clean up before I headed over
to Uncle Mander’s because I’d accidentally left the phone in his backpack when
we were dealing with the Nutra.”
“And what are you going
to say when Neo hops three trees down only to find out that he doesn’t have
it?” Kush asked.
“Well, he’ll have to hop
more than three trees, for starters, since Uncle Mader said he was going to Swampy
Joe’s for some of that foxfire shine of his once he’d rinsed off,” Soren said.
“You know what’ll happen once they start drinking.”
“That was brilliant,
he’ll never find them, even if he gets it into his head to try and track them
down. They’ll go lily pad hopping all over the swamp and lead him on a merry
chase while getting into a bunch of mischief and probably rope Neo into their
shenanigans too. I bet they come home singing the bawdiest songs this side of
the portal, again, which will have Grand'Mere up in arms when she hears them,”
Kush remarked with a chuckle. “Hope they remember to duck this time when she
takes after them with one of those cast-iron frying pans she loves to wield like
she’s still batting for the Cottonmouths.”
Soren snickered at that
while Kush logged into the app, practically holding his breath as he waited to
see if the site reported any matches yet.
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