It had been a number of years since Percy and & Bismae had first made the journey together to Below. They had set up a home together, away from all of Percy's cloying family and countless attendants. At first it had just been the two of them, and that alone had made it feel like home right away.
But soon had come a collection of plants for Bismae to care for. She had, eventually, found familiars to call her own. And though her room in the apartment had grown increasingly cramped, it had been a cozy sort of nest, surrounded by things she could tend and love.
She had met a number of other students, some of whom had managed to grab her attention for an afternoon or, occasionally, longer. If nothing else, they had helped her to learn about life down here, helped her to 'fit in' a little better, to learn the rules of conduct that were expected of her. She didn't much care for the rules or the classes, to be honest, but disappointing Percy was the greater distress. So she had put forth enough effort to get by without too many incidents.
When Jaxon had entered the picture, Bismae's world-view had changed. He was a half-Naga, half-Bakeneko. She had not heard of such a possibility in Percy's family home. It had been forbidden, taboo. But Jaxon was whole and healthy and handsome, and Bismae's love of caring for things took on a new light. She wanted such children, that possessed both the warm glowing qualities of the Bakenekos and the agile strength of the Nagas. She wanted hybrid children to call her own. And she wanted many of them. She wanted to be Mother. She wanted her own hoard.
Now, Percy was growing up. Jaxon was growing up. Both of them had become taller and silkier with age, their voices dropping. Bismae's did not drop quite as theirs did, but her lisp grew less pronounced. She grew longer, her limbs stronger, her motions more fluid. They were, all of them, advancing. And with that future came the possibility for family and offspring, and the cozy, dreamed of hoard of young. She would hold them tight within her coils and pet them, stroke them, until the day came that they would agree to imbue with her.
Then all would be right with the world. Bismae would at last be Mother.
