Who: Megara & Zatanna What: A night for cousins to discuss immortality over exotic ice cream When: Tonight Where: Zee's abode Rating/Warnings: A little language but nothing traumatizing Status: Complete!
Turkish ice cream was magic.
No, really, it was. In some of the more populated areas, you’d find street vendors who were magicians in their own right, who wore red and gold fezzes, ringing bells, calling out to passersby. They peddled more than just the ice cream - it was a whole routine, kind of slapstick in nature; they’d tease and taunt with the ice cream cones, grabbing them back, flipping and tossing them. All of that was possible because of the salep powder, a crucial ingredient which came from the bulbs of orchids - this type of ice cream, the stretchy kind that allowed for a whimsical experience, was pretty common in Turkey but less so elsewhere because the powder was so rare. Orchid depletion was a real thing now, thanks to the mass production - unfortunately, none of the Middle Eastern markets in Orange County had salep powder or the ice cream imported.
So Zatanna made do. She picked up a few pints of Persian ice cream cream instead, from the local market where she tended to get her unique spices and breads anyway. Rosewater and saffron-flavored, pistachio, and also orange blossom - they were all on the coffee table, she was in her pajamas, and thus this night of cousin girl talk could begin.
The rabbits could be entertained by the rather special pets Meg had brought from Hades’ house. Zee had never met imps in furry animal form before, but they were...kind of cute. It was difficult for her to really dislike any animal regardless. “Which one do you want?” she asked, waving her spoon at the ice cream supply. She also had plenty of pita and hummus, and a cheesecake made with Nebusi - cheese common to Lebanon. Sometimes you needed a break from ice cream. Palette cleanser? Sure, go with that.
Oh, the decisions. Megara wasn’t at all surprised her dearest cousin went for the more exotic flavors of the ice cream spectrum. Don’t worry, Zatanna, you were completely forgiven for not having Stephen Colbert’s Americone Dream flavor from the Ben and Jerry line.
It’d sure as hell be a fitting thing to scarf down considering this nation’s most recent ‘historic moment.’
“Hm,” she thought, closing an eye and letting her own spoon hover over the selections. Eeeny, meeny, miny, mo. “Dibs on the pistachio. I’ll ease onto the more less-advertised flavors in a bit.” Pain and Panic were, thankfully, distracted by other forest critters. Maybe they’d like it enough here that they’d say, but Meg could only dream. “Remind me where you find this stuff again - kinda curious to see the face Hades would make to these flavors.”
Zee was always a little more in touch with their roots, and Meg wasn’t always, but being around family ignited that spark again. Pint obtained, uncovered, and settled into the gap of her Indian-crossed legs, her utensil took a nosedive into the cold tundra of ice cream. “You’re also really working hard on that making me fat thing, aren’t you? Don’t think I haven’t forgotten.”
Pistachio for Meg, and the rosewater-saffron for Zee. Rosewater tasted like it was made for milk and cream; it was an ancient flavor that either invoked thoughts of grandmother’s perfume or, when done right, thoughts of Persian princes enjoying sweet desserts kissed with the stuff. Saffron was warm and reminiscent of toasty vanilla. Highly possible she’d this whole pint, right here, right now.
“A middle eastern market in Anaheim,” she chuckled, popping the lid off the carton and digging in right away. “I get everything there - cheeses, fruits, teas, spices. Especially the spices. Fresh pita too, it’s delicious. Sometime I’ll take you.” Zatanna just had a taste for the cuisines of her roots - old world flavors, old world recipes that were tried and true. It went with the very old magic, and that lineage as well. “I can’t really convert John to ice cream flavors like this either - I’m sure his expression would match Hades’ too.”
Especially since John always teased her about how she didn’t eat real food, being a vegetarian. Pfft.
Sign her up, she’d love to go. Maybe it’d encourage her to dust some old recipes stowed away by her mother when she visited for Thanksgiving - there was more than just the talumba, of course, and she’d always been as good in the kitchen as she was high above doing flips in the air and giving wee little Megara (back in the day) heart attacks at the height. That’s why they had encouraged some kind of aerial exercise; to maybe ‘fix’ some of that height phobia, but, um, let’s just say she avoided heart attacks by keeping off from skyscrapers or walking on wire between rooftops. That seemed largely practical.
“Speaking of the flamer,” she started, clearing her throat a little bit from the initial swallow because she hadn’t broken the news to her yet. Didn’t seem like the sort of thing to announce over text, and there was part of Megara who was still wrapping her head around the entire concept of eternity. Hercules had opted out of godhood for her but he had lived his life as a mortal, mostly unaffected by the burden of being the son of Zeus - but Hades? He wasn’t just any deity. “We had a talk, over Christmas. He wanted to drink that potion, the one that’d take away his immortality?”
The one meant for Wonder Boy. They’d knew it would work.
“Oh?” Zatanna’s brows arched upward. She pulled her legs up underneath her on the sofa, tilting her head to check for any potential disasters involving her rabbits, plus Pain and Panic - but nothing had gone boom, crash yet so she would just assume they were all getting along like peanut butter and jelly. “So the subject finally came up, then.”
She remembered Meg asking for advice about it - and were it Zee in that situation, she’d have done what Hades did if she had such a potion at her disposal. But ultimately, it was a decision that would require a lot of talk and compromise between two lovers. “Is he mortal now?” she asked, sticking the cold, creamy spoonful into her mouth. “Nope,” was her answer, with a pop too as she pulled the spoon from her mouth. It was sweet of him to want to, it really was - there was a part of her that knew he would if she had asked him. Megara had nothing against going through the motions of mortal living, growing old and lounging in rocking chairs with an expensive set of dentures while fat grandkids rolled around the grass. It sounded so much simpler, but simplicity wasn’t in their cards.
Not when there were two demon imps disguised as forest creatures scurrying around, and a literal hellhound gnawing on their slippers, and definitely not when his kids endured changes and hardships when it came to the dreams.
Her lips pursed, and she twisted the spoon into the pistachio. “I didn’t let him. I don’t have an issue with who or what he is, and I don’t need him to change because of me - his spawn are going through similar changes, so who else is better equipped to help them with it other than him?” Hades also wasn’t bound to the Underworld here, stuck to survey the lost souls swirling down the toilet of the dead and doomed for an eternity of loneliness. “I told him I’d do it instead. Go immortal for him.”
Sacrifice for love didn’t scare her. As jaded and weary as she was, she was also all or nothing - both choices were filled with so much loss and gain. None were taken lightly. And saying that out loud helped her expel a sigh she’d been holding it, because while she was at peace with her decision it still was a strange realm of the unknown. What would the transition bring? Would it work? Hurt? Have side effects? What?
Zee hadn’t been expecting that. Alright, it had been one of the options she discussed with Meg before - there were ways to do it, that she’d read about, ancient rituals conducted by those who wanted to live forever too. How successful they actually were, well, she did not know that firsthand, and she’d never seen anyone else attempt it either. Pulling a rabbit from a hat, opening a portal, turning the tarot cards, she could do all of it a thousand times in her sleep, but immortality? That was just so out there.
“Oh, Meg,” she sighed too, because while she didn’t fully comprehend what it felt like to have to even make that decision, she did know that it must be a lot to deal with. How could it not be? The concept of forever was downright daunting.
She reached over and hugged her cousin, just a moment to breathe and try to process this. It meant that Meg would be immortal, living forever, watching everyone else wither and leave this Earth as was the natural course of things. With any luck, they’d all have a long and happy life. “How does it happen? Do you have a plan in mind?”
Out there, extreme, and fairly unprecedented. Megara didn’t know what to expect. Herc could gain eternal life and all that jazz by heroic feats, but he was born with the blood of the gods coursing through him - up until Hades tried to get him out of the picture. They’d have to proceed on a different route with this one. Something liquidy, she assumed, considering what made Hercules mortal was a potion of sorts. That’d have to be reversed.
“Must you overwhelm me with feelings,” she playfully remarked, returning the hug - it was needed. It was also good to talk about this with someone else. Other perspectives could shed light, and she had a very short list of people she trusted with this kind life-altering life info. Zatanna was also family. “We’re still kind of just...breathing in deep about the decision, he knows it’s not something to take lightly - but it’ll probably be something I’ll have to drink? Considering there’s a potion to take away immortality, it’d make sense to make it into the opposite.”
Another pile of ice cream was shoveled into her mouth, so much her mouth went a little numb from the cold and made her teeth ache. Mmffffffffffffff. Emotional eating was painful. “Blach - fuck, anyway. You wouldn’t have any sort of useful intel about how to go about it, would you? Options would be kinda niiiiiice?”
“Hmm, well - “ Zatanna knew a few things</i>, and she’d share what she knew. However Meg wanted to do it, and her dutiful cousin would help as much as she could. “In ancient times, the Persians also used a drink - they called it soma, and it was meant to grant immortality. It was made from the extract of a plant that is difficult to interpret from the very old texts, and there’s some debate about what that plant actually is but it does grow in the mountains. Some say it’s a form of, uh - magic mushroom? So you’d either be immortal or hallucinating. Others say it’s wild rue.”
She would have to look into that some more, and if Meg already had a potion then perhaps the plant ingredient, extracted from the stalk, could be combined. But there were other ways. “For the Egyptians, an ankh is the symbol of eternity,” she continued. “An amulet - with a spell weaved over it, of course - is another option. I will do more research.”
It was just a lot to fathom. Zee needed more ice cream now, brainfreeze be damned.
Not bad mentions to toss at Hades. He wanted it to be seamless too, a slam dunk the first time - and she hoped there’d be a telltale sign of ‘it wooooooooorks.’ “Worse case scenario I’ll be tripping balls, that doesn’t sound too awful,” Megara mused with a throaty chuckle. “In our dreams, immortality’s synonymous to godhood in a way? That potion Hades has, it was to remove that oh-so holy aspect of oneself. From god to mortal. All I want is the lifespan, that’s it.”
One would think that’d cut the job in half, or something.
“I’ll need to stock up on books on how to handle long-term relationships like this, though. If they don’t exist, I’ll probably end up writing it,” she shrugged, nonchalantly. To imagine forever was, again, so goddamn daunting - a road without an end. “Maybe by the third century we’ll become swingers to keep things in the bedroom alive?”
“You’d be the authority on long-term relationships by then,” Zatanna smiled. “And who knows, perhaps you will. If you ever do become a swinger, summon me from the beyond - I’d want to hear all about it.”
Wine, they needed wine. Or some kind of alcoholic beverage and - aha. She had just the thing. Getting up, Zee went into the kitchen and procured a large bottle of cherry lambic beer (this would go well over pistachio especially, that particular fruity flavor combo was killer) along with huge wine glasses so they didn’t have to pour booze straight into the ice cream cartons.
She settled back down on the sofa, saying ‘screw it’ to the corkscrew and just doing away with effort by using a bit of magic - nepo, there we go and pop, it was done. “But you’re...I don’t want to say ‘okay’ with it. You’ve accepted this? The good and the bad?”
What was that? Meg’s brows shot up in curiosity, and - forgive her, cousin - she stole the dark bottle from Zatanna’s grasp to examine it. Was this beer? Bottled like wine? It smelled both sweet and tart, huh. Low alcohol content, but maybe if they drank fast and a lot they’d feel the swimmy sensation of a buzz.
How it’d pair with the pistachio was yet to be seen but, hell, she was about to embark on the a mission towards immortality. Being daring with her icecream was the least she could do.
“I’m okay with it as long as we don’t discuss your me summoning you from the dead this early on,” she said, watching the magic mistress from the corner of her eye with a degree of regret. “And I’ve accepted it, even if I don’t really know what it’d be like once time passes.” That’d be the test, wouldn’t it? The years taking a toll on the people she knew while she remained planted in this life - Megara could only assume, but she knew the reality would be a tenfold. “Hades won’t always admit it outloud but he’s terrified, too. It’ll be something we’ll figure out together. I just hate the thought of him doing it alone and besides -”
A tentative taste was taken of the lambic and ice cream, and her reaction was surprisingly one of approval. “He’d be a disorganized and literal hot mess without me. I’m doing the world a favor.”
Zatanna hummed thoughtfully, mixing her makeshift float a little, poking into the wine glass with her spoon. This concoction was delicious, nectar of the gods. “I suppose there is no way to know for sure what it’ll be like until it’s done. There are a lot of unknowns.” It wasn’t something she could really turn the cards for - but she could promise to be there, until literally, her last dying breath.
They just wouldn’t discuss that now though. They knew it would happen. They knew what immortality meant.
“I don’t blame him for being terrified too. But the upside of it is, yes, you’ll always have each other,” she said. “Literally always. It’s nice to have someone you can count on like that.” There was a certain degree of comfort in it, which was a big positive.
Hades had been alone in the dreams, in both versions - and apparently he found love in one of them too, but there was nothing good that could come from loving the Wicked Witch of the West. Apparently she and Herc played a cameo but nothing significant, nothing like the first set they shared together that had them forge a bond.
The soul selling and the whole Mt. Olympus coup put a damper on said bond there. It sure as hell strengthened their bond here - never in a million years did she expect to have been bent over over the god of death’s desk and lovingly plowed.
No complaints, none.
“I think we’ll be fine, or at least figure things out as things go - but this means you have to make some babies for me,” Meg insisted, nudging their elbows together. “I can keep an eye on your descendants and see little yous throughout the generations.”
Make her an aunt, Zatanna. Someday.
Zee nearly choked on her mouthful of alcoholic ice cream float. Some babies. That wasn’t implying just one, it was implying more. Oh, good lord, what a frightening thought. “Maybe,” she laughed, coughing a little. “The one conversation we had about it ended well enough - so who knows, it could happen.”
Not that she was actively planning on it, but she also just used regular, run of the mill birth control. Which was sometimes fallible. No extra spells or rituals or teas to ensure that she wouldn’t get knocked up, even if she was well-versed in that sort of thing. Mostly she was just going along with whatever was meant to be, would be. “Though I would absolutely insist that you keep an eye on them. What about you, do you want little yous of your own?”
Hades had three kids already, but they were grown. There was still plenty of time to make other godling children, Zatanna thought. If that’s what they decided - if not, then that was fine too. Not like him and Meg would run out of time, anyway.
Karma was a bitch. It was her turn to almost choke on that alcoholic ice cream float, so thanks for that, Zatanna. Megara could almost feel her uterus twitch at the prospect of it being occupied - or maybe it was that nerve-wracking, butterfly twister feeling.
“Why does everything with you somehow end up in possible ways to make me fat?” she coughed a bit, wiping off the little bit of pistachio from the edge of her lip. Kids had never been anything she outright wanted, and she had a hard time seeing the appeal of it most days - nine months of being an incubator, then having your twat get ripped apart in what was considered the ‘miracle of life.’ And then once they started talking? They never shut up. “I think I’m alright with his mostly-grown children for now - don’t know if I have it in me for anything else, but who knows. He might want to spread his seed again, and I might actually let him do it if I’m drunk enough.”
Hades at least wasn’t a shit father. His love for them was what actually endeared her to him, and they were what mostly kept him anchored.
Zatanna started laughing, covering her mouth with her hand. “You have such a way with words,” she giggled. Very rarely did she actually giggle, but being drunk enough to let your lover spread the seed was just an amusing thought. That would be one hell of a hangover, when you realized what happened the night before.
“Well, whatever happens, my dear cousin - I am here for you,” she saluted the ever-so-eloquent Meg with her wine glass. Now the buzz was starting to crackle in her veins, making her more loose-lipped and loose-limbed. It was a delightful feeling. How she loved these boozy, girly nights - see, if they got knocked up, these would have to be put on the back burner. What a shame.
She meant it though, til death do they part. It wasn’t marriage, but the bonds of family, so close enough.
Such a way with words with such a deadpan tone, and that resting bitchface. Meg should try a hand at standup comedy. Har har.
But, really, if this question had been asked during her regrettable tango with Adonis she would have - very vocally - rejected the idea of procreating with such an assbag. Hades was different, he’d always be different. He’d be the only man she’d even think of letting fertilize her egg; put that line on a Valentine’s Day card and see how it’d sell.
“Oh, I’m aware - we’re stuck with each other the way sisters are, even if we’re not,” she smirked. Relation by blood strengthened by their lives here; she didn’t know what she’d do if Zee wasn’t around. Survive still, perhaps, but there were very few people she trusted with this kind of emotional intimacy. “It’ll be an interesting year, but if we do this more often -” A raise of her lambic float. “I think we’ll make it.”