Eda has, since being here, done a lot of research on human mythology—for several reasons. To see if there was any evidence of a version of the Demon Realm connected to this version of the Human Realm, to see what seemed to be connected to the Fears, here, and simply to know what human perception of non-humans was.
All this to say: when Raine told her about Milo, the gears started turning in her brain for, well, several reasons. They sounded similar to some creatures on the Boiling Isles, especially ones that existed in the “savage ages.” But they certainly also sounded similar to the local version of fey. Something which might, at home, have been one and the same; but she’s still not sure where human mythology comes from here.
She knows she can’t go by the Boiling Isles legends, nor by the local ones, nor even by what the shows about Rue and Hob, given they don’t seem to fit the same set of Rules that it sounds as if Milo was referencing. Nor are the local legends all consistent with each other.
But it’s somewhere to start, and she’s dived into research more since the first time her glamour failed. Even if she wasn’t expecting to be able to talk to the creature in the ADI basement.
Unexpected or not, she isn’t passing up the chance when she spots the rooftop meadow. She even stops by the nearest coffee shop to make the confusing order of just a large milk sweetened with honey, in case her suspicion is correct.
She shows up on the warehouse roof tribute in hand, and wearing a bandana tied in a way that would hide her ears if her glamour fails again, along with a skirt long enough to hide the weasel tail. When Milo greets her, she pauses to think about her words.
“Hey. That’s pretty,” she says, not taking the flower crown. She wouldn’t want to potentially owe them for it.
“And that’d be myself,” she adds, tone friendly but unhelpful. “Are you… Milo?”
Milo!
Eda has, since being here, done a lot of research on human mythology—for several reasons. To see if there was any evidence of a version of the Demon Realm connected to this version of the Human Realm, to see what seemed to be connected to the Fears, here, and simply to know what human perception of non-humans was.
All this to say: when Raine told her about Milo, the gears started turning in her brain for, well, several reasons. They sounded similar to some creatures on the Boiling Isles, especially ones that existed in the “savage ages.” But they certainly also sounded similar to the local version of fey. Something which might, at home, have been one and the same; but she’s still not sure where human mythology comes from here.
She knows she can’t go by the Boiling Isles legends, nor by the local ones, nor even by what the shows about Rue and Hob, given they don’t seem to fit the same set of Rules that it sounds as if Milo was referencing. Nor are the local legends all consistent with each other.
But it’s somewhere to start, and she’s dived into research more since the first time her glamour failed. Even if she wasn’t expecting to be able to talk to the creature in the ADI basement.
Unexpected or not, she isn’t passing up the chance when she spots the rooftop meadow. She even stops by the nearest coffee shop to make the confusing order of just a large milk sweetened with honey, in case her suspicion is correct.
She shows up on the warehouse roof tribute in hand, and wearing a bandana tied in a way that would hide her ears if her glamour fails again, along with a skirt long enough to hide the weasel tail. When Milo greets her, she pauses to think about her words.
“Hey. That’s pretty,” she says, not taking the flower crown. She wouldn’t want to potentially owe them for it.
“And that’d be myself,” she adds, tone friendly but unhelpful. “Are you… Milo?”