Hermes was the second youngest Olympian god and was the son of Zeus and Maia, one of the seven Pleiades & daughter of the Tital Atlas. His patronage was extensive, including commerce & profit, thieves, travel, roads & borders, hospitality, fertility, friendship, sports & athletes, and animal husbandary.

As the god of boundaries and transitions, Hermes was known to be quick and cunning, and had the ability to freely move between the mortal and divine worlds. It is because of this that he long played intercessor between mortals and the gods, becoming known as a benefactor to the former. He played a role in conducting souls into the afterlife, and was one of the few deities who was freely able to leave the underworld. In addition to this, he also directed the dreams sent by Zeus to mortals.

A trickster god, Hermes could be extremely unpredictable, routinely tricking, lying and stealing from the other gods. He was one to test norms, challenge conventions and cross boundaries. He was neither good or evil, although capable of both, but would always be at the centre of things, tilting events chaotically in one direction or another. It is also for this reason that he was able to be the patron of both thieves and merchants.

Hermes was the fastest olympian and used to travelling on a whim. Nowhere was inaccessible to him, be it Mount Olympus, the mortal plane, or the underworld. Suddenly being trapped on earth was, therefore, a huge shift for the god. It was not in Hermes' nature to rage and throw a tantrum, even though he may have felt just as put out as the others. Yet to be tricked by a human, even though there was a certain humour to it, was also terribly embarrassing. Luckily for Hermes, mortals were not a foreign concept to him and he was quickly able to become at ease in their world. He enjoyed their penchant for frivolities and found himself participating in some of the more sinful aspects in life. Drinking, gambling, amassing many a lover...Hermes tried it all. But whilst all of these were amusing for a time, they were not enough to occupy his sharp mind and eventually, his focus strayed to other pursuits.

Hermes has since spent many a decade meddling in the affairs of humans. He could often be found at the ear of high-powered individuals, including CEOs, politicians and even royalty. Often his schemes bore little effect on the world, but he has on occasion impacted events on a greater scale. He has had an influence on wars, politics, friendships, marriages...just to name a few. Of course Hermes also still tries to play tricks on the other gods but with so many humans to meddle with, he often finds his attentions focused elsewhere.

Whilst as a god, Hermes had no particular preference towards good or evil, centuries on earth has begun to tilt his moral compass. In the 1920's he began working as a con-artist, using his wit to cheat wealth from others (interestingly he only steals from those who he feels deserve some form of retribution). Unsurprisingly, he quickly became rather proficient at this and has since been able to amass a significant amount of money. Most recently he has become a partner of a casino in downtown Seattle, known as 'The Zenith'. Whether this is part of a long-con or not, is currently unclear.

In addition to his more...mischievous activities, Hermes has spent the centuries developing his athletic prowess. As the fastest olympian and the patron of athletes, Hermes was no stranger to sports, however participating in them was another matter entirely and he loved it. Name a sport and he has probably at least dabbled in it. Most recently he has taken up boxing and can be often found spending much of his downtime at the ring. Hermes has also recently purchased two very adorable puppies because, well, why not? He named one Ares (because it was very bitey) and one Zeus (because it kept trying to hump the other).

Ah, Zeus. Where do we even begin with this one? It’s no secret that throughout his entire existence, Zeus has gotten into his fair share of trouble — burned some bridges, stuck his fingers into pies he had no business disturbing — but what did he care? He’s Zeus, goddammit! Vanquisher of the Titans, King of the Gods… And with a resume like that, there’s no way in Hades he was going to let anyone tell him what he could or could not do.

But how exactly did Zeus come to be?

Long story short, he was born to the Titans Cronus and Rhea, with Gaia foretelling that Cronus would one day be overthrown by his own son, as he had done his father before him. So as soon as his children were born, Cronus devoured them. Zeus, however, was able to escape the fate that befell his siblings when Rhea tricked Cronus by giving him a rock wrapped in swaddling instead.

Many of Zeus’s formative years were spent hidden away in a cave with nothing but a goat named Amalthea for company, which maybe explained some of the, uh… issues he would have later in life, but that’s a story for another time.

Fast forward a couple of years, and Zeus, all grown up, marches up to Cronus in disguise and challenges him to a drinking game. Now Zeus liked to think of himself as a man who could hold his liquor, but there was too much at stake here for him to take the risk of a fair contest.

Luckily, he came prepared.

The Titaness Metis had given him a mixture of mustard and nectar with which to spike Cronus’s drink. It was meant to induce the expulsion of Cronus’s stomach contents, and boy, oh boy, expel they did. One by one, back up the hatch they went — Poseidon, Hades, and the rest of Zeus’s siblings until finally, everyone had been freed from the murderous jaws of their Titan father.

Zeus doesn’t like thinking about it, really. It was a pretty gnarly sight. Nearly threw up himself.

And then with the help of Poseidon and Hades, Zeus banished Cronus to the deepest, darkest pits of Tartarus. The three brothers then split the world between themselves. Poseidon got the sea, Hades got the earth, and Zeus the sky.

Pretty sweet deal, huh? Or at least it would be if the story ended here. A lot happened in the ensuing years — he cheated on Hera… a lot, pissed Gaia off to the point where she sent her monster-children after him, and we can’t forget about that one time he convinced Poseidon to raise a flood to wipe out all of humanity.

So, yeah. Zeus is kind of a mess, and he’s definitely got some demons he needs to work through, but who doesn’t? Nobody’s perfect.

Zeus was not a happy camper when the Colossus was first constructed. Who would be, in his situation? Ripped from his throne atop Mount Olympus, he was left to wander the earth without a purpose, and dealt with it the only way he knew how — dispensing swift, bloody vengeance upon his enemies, and seeking out the company of beautiful people.

So everything was fine and dandy at the start. Years, decades, centuries sailed right by as he frittered his days away doing the same things he always did, and for a long while, he was satisfied, though perhaps satisfied was too strong a word. He did those things more out of habit than necessity, like ordering dessert at a restaurant when you’re already full. And he’s not sure exactly when it happened, but slowly, he started getting… antsy.

It started out as an itch. A tiny, annoying tingle at the back of his mind. Then, somewhat alarmingly, it began to grow. It didn’t matter how he tried to distract himself — whether it be through copious amounts of drink or nighttime dalliances with strangers — the feeling simply would not go away. Until one day, he had no choice but to acknowledge it for what it truly was.

His conscience.

Yeah, I know. Zeus? Caring about someone other than himself?

It’s crazy to think about.

But yes, as hard as it is to believe, it did happen. The seed of basic decency that’d lain dormant within Zeus for all these years had finally germinated, and he was fucking terrified. Terrified because he had spent so much of his life caring only about himself, and now, the consequences of everything he’d done was finally coming back to bite him in the ass.

He was estranged from his family. What friends he had were all sycophantic hangers-on who’d ditch him at the first sign of trouble. And to top it all off, he couldn’t even shoot lightning bolts from his fingertips anymore.

If it were possible for a god to have a midlife crisis, this would’ve been it.

And as he laid there in a tangle of sheets and warm bodies, he decided he would try and make amends with everyone he’d screwed over in the past, starting with his family.

Problem was, nobody really wanted to see or talk to him. Not that you could blame them. Zeus tried to be supportive, but he was also as subtle as a sledgehammer in his efforts, and he took their rejections as well as you’d expect him to — which is to say not well at all. After that trainwreck, it took him a few more decades before he got his shit together long enough to try again.

Somewhere along the line, he managed to build himself an empire worthy of a king. Not literally, of course. Monarchy had gone out of fashion sometime in the 20th century, and money was slowly becoming the only thing that mattered.

But for all his flaws, he has always prided himself on being an effective, if not exactly virtuous leader. And as it just so happens, those exact qualities were what made a good CEO. Who knew moral bankruptcy was part of the job description?

Now, Zeus is known instead as Dean Sarandon, founder and CEO of Psychro Inc., an energy conglomerate based in Baltimore. Since relocating to Seattle, however, he has taken a step back from dealing with company affairs, leaving most of his responsibilities in his staff’s capable hands.

It’s not a terrible life, really. He gets to enjoy his semi-retirement with day drinking and the occasional round of golf at a local country club; although he has been thinking about giving the whole “making amends with his family” thing another shot.

He is, after all, a changed man. And he’s willing to do whatever it takes to prove it.

…

Okay, maybe that sounded a little ominous, but you get the picture.

Mėnuo is most known for cheating on his wife Saulė the sun goddess with Aušrinė, the goddess of the North Star. Which Perkūnas the leader of the pantheon punished Mėnuo by cutting him in two. However Mėnuo did not learned his lesson and so the punishment was carried out each mouth. During this Mėnuo and Saulė divorced and stop seeing each other. Though Mėnuo was allowed to visit their child Žemyna during the night while Saulė visited her during the day.

When the Colossus robbed the gods of their powers, it took time for him to get used to being a human. Unsure of what to do with himself and feel lost as a mortal. It was only in this state after three decades did Mėnuo actually learn his lesson about cheating on his wife. Feeling bad about it and cursing himself for learning about this now. Mėnuo tried to talk to Saulė and get on good terms with her but, it ended badly. She still angry over it and refused him. He would not give up and tried again and again over the centuries but, with no avail.

In the meantime, Mėnuo tried to keep himself busy while blending in with mortals. Taking odds jobs, other professions, and learning more about mortals over the centuries. In D.C he was a cook for a local restaurant and got quite good at it. Gaining a passion for it and got to meet people while working there. Then the Colossus was stolen and Mėnuo regretfully had to leave the restaurant. Something he would miss as he traveled to Seattle.

In Seattle, Mėnuo got the idea of instead of working for someone else. He should be the boss for a change and founded his own restaurant. Naming it the Four Elements would be a small but growing restaurant. Though he is reminded of how he hates that his travels are dictated by the Colossus. More so that he misses the Baltics that was his home. But, he will adapt as he is forced to over the centuries.

Heracles — Divine Protector, Glorious Hero, Conquer of the Twelve Labors, and sworn hero of Greece. Heracles - God of Strength and Valor, the embodiment of everything great and deplorable of man, yet nothing was so truer as his devotion to his people.

Admired for his strength and revered by those who always challenged him, Heracles, Son of Zeus and Alcmene always strived to do right by not only his people but, in a sense, by his father too, or rather by his father's wife, Hera, whom he was named for. She had always despised him and had, on multiple occasions, sought his demise.

But ever the survivor, possibly empowered by his father's tenacity and stubbornness, Heracles never gave in. Even when the Twelve Labors threatened to destroy his very being, the God in him always rose to the occasion. Like a literal super man, he powered through, going far beyond the point of return - twice.

Heracles was the shining example of what it meant to be a hero and his valor was rewarded by evading the clutches of Thanatos by being granted entry into the Olympus Pantheon. Though he would never be equal to anyone, he was a man amongst gods.

Who could ask for a better challenge, right?

Once he achieved godhood, Heracles thought what he had sought after would finally give him the fulfillment he thought he wanted, but in achieving this, it became what the modern society often said about disappointment: Never meet your heroes for they might disappoint you.

This is exactly what Heracles felt. Or maybe it was boredom. Being a God was great in theory, which that's all it was until it was realized, but now having experienced it, he was bored because all they did was sit around. Sometimes they'd cause mayhem and carnage for the mortals because they were bored or strike fear into them, but that was it. Just a bunch of bored gods sitting around on their fat asses.

Truth be told, Heracles began to despise them. and he never thought he would become suspect to such emotions.

So, imagine the delight that overwhelmed him when the Colossus, an artifact that not even the great Engineer of the Gods, Hephaestus, understood, threatened hem all, and stripped all gods of their power. It wasn't just the Greek Pantheon - but all Gods from all Pantheons that became no more than mortals.

Heracles was saddened for some he thought of as friends in Mount Olympus, but he could not deny that, in a moment of rare weakness, he felt like this is what they, not him, deserved. Especially Hera. Maybe a taste of his world would give them some perspective.

Heracles didn't need to adjust because he had lived in the mortal realm as a Demigod, though it had been a few dozen centuries since he walked among the people and that was in Greece, of all places. But where he was imprisoned wasn't anywhere close to Greece. It was in a place called Washington D.C. After a while, it did start to feel like home and the man who was once known as Heracles didn't exist. Well, not in the traditional sense. Heracles, Divine Protector of Greece didn't exist, but Jackson Drake, fitness model/influencer, did. He was also a former wrestler who found a calling in fitness. Heracles' -- or Jackson -- had a passion for it.

Even with the move to Seattle, Heracles didn't feel like he had to rip his entire life away and start anew. As long as he had his phone close to him and could post whenever, the fifth-highest paid male influencer on Instagram could work from his toilet and still get hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of likes on a single post.

What more could a man ask for?

The Goddess of War, destruction, devastation and the controller of the policy of foreign warfare - it's not surprise why Bellona was such an important goddess to the Romans. It is unsure rather she is the sister or wife of Mars, bus she is heavily associated with him nonetheless. Her temple was built in the Campus Martius, the low-lying field by the Tiber consecrated to Mars, which was located outside of the city walls. The area around Bellona's temple was considered to symbolize foreign soil, and there the Senate met with ambassadors, received victorious generals, and there war was officially declared.

"My time on earth has been... interesting. I'm just stuck in this one body. I used to be able to be whoever I wanted to be. I was a Goddess. Feared and worshiped. People made sacrifices to me, ya know? Now I'm just... mortal. I stayed angry for a few hundred years. But that's okay! I've come to terms with this whole.... thing, or whatever. It's cool. Since coming to Seattle, I opened the gym. I've been focusing on channeling my anger into ambition and other more positive things. What I can't channel, I just use to beat the shit out of people in the basement after hours. Anyway. Stop by Golds Gym for boxing lessons!"

Athena, the Greek Goddess of Wisdom and War, has had many accomplishments spreading across various levels of importance but none were so personal to her than when what became the capital of Greece was named for her.

Historians might argue exactly what held the highest level of significance for her and, while such is their right to do so, she has held a certain level of pride in knowing the people who worship (or used to, if modern times were any indication) her named their most important city after her. Not even helping Heracles through his labors held a candle to this.

Outside of the honors bestowed upon her from the people, Athena can say that, unlike the new God Heracles, who joined the ranks of the Greek Pantheon a lot later than most of them did, that she has a better relationship with them. Of course, there's her father and step-mother in Hera. There's a certain respect that comes with obeying their word. As someone who always prided herself in following orders, regardless if she agreed with them, Athena always followed them to the letter.

Being someone who helped forge democratic solutions and diplomacy for the mortals, it's no surprise to know that Athena is someone who can hold her own in a debate of any magnitude. Whether it pertains to Godly matters such as Odysseus and how Posidon kept him at sea longer than he needed to or involving themselves with the matters of other mortals, she always had a voice and she expressed her opinions whenever they came. This has angered some of her fellow Gods but they know it came from the right place.

Of the Pantheon, Athena has always found herself to get along with those who share both her love for justice and honor, so doubtless, her allegiance leaned heavily towards goodness and honor or just were the least problematic.

Ares was not such a person. She found herself clashing with him on multiple issues and his bloodlust left a lot to be desired for. As far as she's concerned, he's not only someone she doesn't like but, if he ever stepped out of line, she would personally take him down.

On the brighter side of things, she adores Hermes and Apollo very much.

With every unexpected, unpredictable experience, there was always something to be learned, always something that she could take away from it.

The Colossus presented such a chance to learn.

While the Gods and Goddesses from all the Pantheons struggled to adjust or used the reality forced upon them to indulge in the Mortal vices, Athena saw it as a chance to do what she always did when tossed into uncharted lands: assess the circumstances, run down her options in her list, and react accordingly.

But she wouldn't say it was easy. No, the Goddess of Wisdom and War certainly had her fair share of difficulties adjusting. The lack of divine powers and divine presence meant she had to roam the cities the Colossus was stored at like any of the mortals. She never complained about it much. she just assumed the new identity that she forged herself. To her kind, they would know her as Athena. It couldn't be helped but under the guise of Detective Natalia Steele, she did one of the only things that felt natural in the modern world. Natalia Athena Steele would have her calling as a detective.

Whether this was in the capital of the United States of North America or the Noir city of Seattle, Athena tackled every obstacle as she always had: with open eyes and tactical surveillance.

Plus, someone had to keep Ares in line.

Where there is a place for the living there must also be a place for the dead to rest. This is the domain in which Hades Resides over. While his brother Zeus and Posiden were placed in charge of the Sky and Ocean respectively, Hades was left with the all-important task of overseeing the souls of the dead find their final resting place. Not to be confused with what many may think, Hades was not angry with his job, in fact, he quite enjoyed it. He was away from the other gods for a start, but ruling over the underworld was also an extremely important task that Hades took pride in.

Few things could be done or said that could cause Hades to lose his normally stoic features and calculated look in favor of wrath that easily rivaled that of Zeus. The only things that could cause such a switch in him to flip was reserved for the threatening of his realm or his beloved wife. Both of these occurred the day the Colossus was created trapping not just himself but the other gods on earth stripping them of their status as gods. Worst of all was the fact that his once beloved wife had lost all memory of him and the underworld she once shared with him. With no memory and a mother who already despised him Hades knew his time with Persephone was over, at least for the time.

Ever the crafty one however Hades set out to build himself an empire to serve as his for the time he was forced to stay on earth. Of course, he intended to do things far differently than his brother Zeus had done. Having dealt with the souls of every mortal good and bad, Hades knew full well the secrets of man and the ways to quickly get what one needed. This truly boomed when the gods were forced to move a large new country by the name of America that seemed to be the breeding ground of lost people simply lacking guidance.

As a goddess, Hera embodied the best and worst aspects of motherhood. Loyal to her family, compassionate and nurturing with her children, and a protector of those who worshipped her properly. Those who crossed her were treated to the wrath of a woman scorned. It was in these times that she became the worst of mothers, unleashing a vengeance that was oftentimes unwarranted. Even when her children were safe and sound, she responded to enemies like they held a dagger to her baby's throat.

Hera is likely known best for the many curses she bestowed, both on her husband's lovers, and his illegitimate children. Most famous are the Twelve Labours, twelve tasks renowned for their difficulty, which Hercules conquered. Despite the many demigods and mortals whose lives were ruined by the Queen of the Gods, none knows more of Hera's bitter wrath than Paris. When he gave the golden apple to Aphrodite instead of Hera, Paris thought himself a winner, but later, when he watched Troy burn around him, he knew that Hera had been the true victor.

The first thing Hera did, upon being trapped by the magic of the Colossus, was weep for the life of splendor she had lost. The second thing she did, was leave Zeus. It was a no brainer, really. In his new state, he wasn't fit to provide her anything. With so many enemies, and so few friends, it seemed the role of provider would be hers to fill now, and fill it she did.

For a long while, Hera could be found married to a wealthy and influential man, the stunning beauty that supported him on his way to power. Her many lives were often reminiscent of the luxury she'd enjoyed on Mount Olympus, though truly, no mortal pleasures could compare. These relationships, Hera found, would almost always end with infidelity, and the ones she did truly come to love, she was forced to watch die of old age. Eventually, she tired of her reliance on men.

Over the next few centuries, Hera traded in powerful marriages for positions of power. She lived as an advisor to Queen Mary, and later to Catherine the Great. She planned parties for Marie Antoinette, and was in the room at both Treaties of Versailles. She was rarely in the spotlight, but trading in whispers was hardly a foreign language. Some might've thought that time amongst mortals, trapped living many mundane lives, might've humbled the Queen of Olympus. They would be wrong. If anything, Hera only became more proud, and determined to regain a respect she felt had been lost.

In Seattle, Hera is known as Dr. Karen Bailey, an OB-GYN who transferred to Seattle from Washington D.C. It's a busy life, but Hera enjoys looking after expecting mothers, guiding them on their journey. She's been keeping tabs on Zeus, well aware of his mission to civilize himself. It hasn't changed her opinion on him, and despite all that she's learned on Earth, she has not forgotten the slights she suffered on Mount Olympus.

Comus | Κῶμος doesn't remember her childhood. Just that it must have happened. Coming into existence for the sole purpose of bearing the cup; THE CUP, to her father, Dionyusus. A life of luxury. Or so most mortals, and even demi-gods would believe. Though, as the decades spanned into centuries and so on and so forth, the task of holding the drink of the drunk guy at the party was not something that Comus reveled in any longer. Bringing about anarchy and chaos when she finds herself bored or slighted. Stemming from the insanity of her old man. Like father like daughter, she s'pposes.

Comus was the child of a literal man-child. It was ... an interesting time, to say the least. She learned many a thing from her father; whom she's almost positive has no idea that she is his own seed made flesh. Tips and tricks on how to host festivities, to hold one's wine. Her favorite pastimes included breaking off into the mortal realm and hosting nocturnal dalliances for those who were lured by her charismatic nature. Those she had cultivated into her own perish of devotees. She was always a generous host, partaking in the revelries every chance given. Never one to pass up a good time. No matter the situation, consequences or cost...

Chaos and Revelry go hand in hand. So long as it's Comus' hands. Which is what she was partaking in when most of the Gods were banished from Olympos. Not really one to bring down the mood of a good party, she went with the flow, basking in the afterglow of the merriment, dalliances and other debaucherous acts taking place in the realm of mortals. Normalcy was never something that appealed to the Goddess, and so while being banished from whatever home she had once had, she began a very nomadic lifestyle. Always seeking the next bigger and best thing. Anything to keep up her spirits. Or, if she was feeling too bored, something that required her undivided chaotic attention.

Normal is an illusion. What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly

And Comus thrives in the chaos she descends upon the world.

Throughout the years, wandering the earth, Comus - now Phoibe - flitted through the changing seasons, adapting to the times. Festivities were still going strong, even during that one point in time where everyone seemed to die off cause of some plague... Phoibe made sure to stick to the countryside for that one. Europe was an awful place at the time. She doesn't recommend. But the Renaissance!? She thrived among the party-goers and midnight rendezvous, posing for many an artist and sculptors; bringing life to the Gods they so cherished, even this far east from her homeland. After some time, she realized that all forms of mediums would require a subject matter and so she offered herself up to those who needed a muse. For a price and for a time. Until she got bored and moved on.

Phoibe has never had an issue fitting in among the masses. Always sparking the initial life of the party, before passing the torch to someone in need of the limelight and going off to enjoy the excess for herself. But while she's been... "in the moment" of bacchanus occasions, she's caused more chaos than sometimes she likes to admit. Resulting in her having a wrap sheet of somewhat petty offenses. Murder may or may not have been among them. But it's not like she's wholly to blame for those. Anarchy comes with a price. Some were not willing to pay... Though time and time again she's found herself growing closer, in distance, to her old man. They seem to always find one another, even without meaning too. Though, she still doubts he even remembers her and her role in his previous life. Not that she cares. Why would she? She's done just fine with only his tutelage to refer back on.

It was very, very easy to uproot herself along with the obelisk, not like she had anything permanent to hold on to. However, she is noticing a lack of party scenes, not like there were on the east coast. There is, however, her fellow brethren to add some excitement into her current existence. Something they have dabbled in for quite some time. She's here for a good time... and quite a long time it seems. Might as well make the most of it.

From birth, Loki’s children have always been seen as an ill omen, a portent of death and great disaster.

It is prophesied, the Æsir would cry, these children will mark the end of the Nine Realms.

And yet, despite their fates being set in stone, the Æsir sought to defy it, searching for a way to prevent Ragnarök. But they could not simply kill them —– to spill tainted blood on holy grounds would pollute them for all eternity. So, they had to come up with a different solution, one that would get them out of the way without the need for bloodshed.

In the end, they chose to send each of them away to separate corners of Yggdrasil, the World Tree. Jörmungandr was cast into the great sea encircling Midgard, Hel into the dark, frozen depths of Niflheim, while Fenrir remained on Asgard, although the Æsir were not content to simply leave him be.

They feared what he could do to them.

Day by day, the Æsir watched as Fenrir grew larger and stronger. Worried that he might some day grow beyond their control, they brought him to Amsvartnir, the pitch black lake where the island called Lyngvi resided.

There, they presented him with three fetters. One made of bronze, the second made of iron, and the last made of silk. The Æsir suggested to Fenrir that he test his strength by breaking each one. The first fetter — the one made of bronze — snapped easily between his jaws. The second fetter, made of iron, shattered with a mighty kick of his feet.

The final fetter, Gleipnir, was soft and silken as a ribbon. The Æsir told Fenrir that if he was unable to break such slender bindings, they would know that he’s nothing to fear, and would thus be set free. Unbeknownst to him, however, Gleipnir had been crafted by the dwarves of Svartálfaheimr, and was much stronger than the two before it. Nonetheless, Fenrir did not fall for their ruse so easily, and refused to let them put the fetter on him unless one of them put their hand in his mouth as a show of good faith.

None of the Æsir moved until Týr stepped forward, placing his hand into Fenrir’s jaws. And so the fetter went on, only this time, it did not break when Fenrir kicked, but dug deeper into his flesh. Again and again, he struggled fruitlessly to break free, and in his efforts, bit off Týr’s hand.

Once the Æsir knew that he was fully bound, they fastened the fetter to a large stone slab buried deep in the ground, and drove a sword through his jaws when he tried to bite them in retaliation. The saliva and blood that ran from his mouth formed the river Ván, also known as “hope” in Old Norse. This was where Fenrir would stay until Ragnarök, as is written in prophecy.

For Fenrir, the creation of the Colossus was something of a double-edged sword. It may have freed him from his bonds, but it also imposed upon him restrictions of a different sort.

Once possessing the form of a great wolf, he awoke to find himself walking on two legs, his lupine visage replaced by one resembling his enemy’s. He loathed seeing the Æsir whenever he caught a glimpse of his own reflection, whether it be in the rippling currents of a stream, or behind the eyes of Midgard’s many inhabitants.

For a long time, he strayed as far away from civilization as the Colossus would allow, living in the surrounding wilderness and hunting game for sustenance. Fenrir’s existence was largely solitary, and he cherished this way of life, guarding the bounds of his territory with beastly vigor. Those who ventured too deep into the woods would scurry back home — bruised, battered and altogether worse for wear — speaking in hushed whispers about a monster with bloodied hands and teeth.

Those were the lucky ones.

The unlucky ones were never seen again —– save for the occasional tooth or bone, picked clean of flesh.

But even Fenrir knew that this could not last forever. As the humans grew more ambitious, his hunting grounds began to shrink. A sparse gathering of huts turned into a village, a village into a town, and a town into a city. Slowly but surely, Fenrir found himself drawn back into the comings and goings of the civilized world.

Even then, he tried to distance himself, taking on jobs that others found undesirable or unsavory just so he could enjoy his solitude. In Rome, he took care of animals bred for venatio, state-sponsored battles between man and beast. Then, he was a butcher in Constantinople, quick with a blade and always elbow-deep in blood and viscera. In Victorian London, he was something called a resurrectionist, unearthing graves for freshly-interred dead to sell to medical schools.

Not once in those millennia did Fenrir attempt to seek out his family. Why should he when none of them did anything to help him during his imprisonment on Lyngvi? He still remembers the pain of Gleipnir slicing into him, of the Æsir sword piercing his jaw. No matter how long he waited, no one ever came to save him, and so, he promised himself that he would never rely on anyone again.

More recently, Fenrir has found new employment at a Seattle hospice. It’s menial work, mostly wheeling patients from one room to the other and cleaning up after them. He doesn’t mind, though. It takes up enough of the day that he can head to his volunteer gig at the animal shelter immediately after a shift.

He first caught wind of Critter Cove after a stray followed him home from work. She was a skinny, mangy thing — a mutt, it seemed like — her piebald fur matted and falling out in places.

Truth be told, Fenrir didn’t quite know what to make of it. He’d never considered getting a dog, but when she started pawing at his apartment door, still shivering from the winter chill, he let her in without a second thought.

Like most strays, she was wary of him at first, curling up next to the radiator and snapping her teeth whenever he got too close; but bit by bit, they got used to each other. Fenrir started out by giving her food, then holding out a hand for her to sniff. And when she finally came up to him and let him comb his fingers through her fur, he felt something inside him catch and overflow.

Fenrir decided then to name her Frida, an Old Norse word meaning “peace”.

Still, he’d seen enough strays in the past to know that she needed more than food and a bath. A cursory search online for animal shelters in the area turned up results about a place called Critter Cove Animal Shelter & Rescue, and he took Frida there to be vaccinated and microchipped.

He’s not quite sure how he ended up a volunteer at Critter Cove after that. Thanks to an influx of abandoned pets over Christmas, the staff there found themselves woefully short-handed, and he must’ve offered to drop by on his days off to help out. The work there was something he enjoyed, however. Unlike gods or humans, animals were simple creatures: they didn’t lie, willfully hurt others or make false promises. Instead, they simply were. To Fenrir, just being near them felt like basking in the sun, like love.

Pure, unadorned and without complication.

He thinks it’s something he could get used to.

The youngest daughter of Zeus and Hera, Hebe was regarded as the goddess of eternal youth. Although she was not an Olympian, she resided on Mount Olympus, acting as cupbearer to the Gods - serving them nectar and ambrosia. She was the keeper of the fountain of youth and it is because of this that Hebe had both the ability to restore youth to mortals, as well as being responsible for keeping the gods eternally young. Hebe was said to personify the spirit of youth, which often prompted jealousy amongst the other gods & goddesses.

She was a diligent daughter, performing tasks such as drawing baths for her brother Ares and helping Hera enter her chariot. Hebe would also often act as an attendant to her sister Aphrodite.

If Hebe were honest, before The Colossus she'd never really considered what it would be like to leave Mount Olympus. Her life had been one of duty and diligence. She did as her parents asked and although it was fun to hear stories from her siblings, she figured that it wasn't her place to do anything but the role she'd been allotted. Yet, this was all thrown into complete disarray when they were made earthbound and for the first few decades, Hebe tried to simply keep out of the way, shocked by the actions of the mortals. Sticking to the familiar presence of her parents was comforting and safe, but even she eventually began to get bored. Very bored. She saw the younger mortals beginning to strive for their own freedom and the goddess figured that if they could do it, so could she. Making moves to strike out on her own, at first she would bounce quickly back to her family, scared to be alone for too long. However eventually she began to spend more and more time apart from them.

For the last century, Hebe has rarely been seen by the other gods. With the advent of women's rights, came a new and improved goddess. She had changed; a far call from the girl who was once content with simply being the cupbearer for the greek pantheon. The following decades (apart from those with the wars...Hebe hated those) were great...the roaring twenties, the free-loving sixties, the eclectic eighties. She loved it all. As the personification of youth, Hebe liked to partake in anything that encouraged this. Whether it be attending a fun party, dragging her friends on some impromptu adventure, breaking rules just for the sake of it... Hebe enjoyed exploring all that being young had to offer and she encouraged mortals to do the same.

When they were forced to move to Washington DC, Hebe decided to attend Georgetown University and as was par for the course, joined a sorority. It was soon after, at one particularly lively frat party, that she met Chadwick. Sure he was a bit up himself but he was funny & nice & well...there. The two instantly hit it off and Hebe (somewhat naively) thought she was in love. She hadn't experienced love before but she was pretty certain that's what it was...sort of. Regardless, the two spent all of their time together. She even met his parents (unsurprisingly she did not introduce him to hers) and practically lived in his dorm. For several months they were happy and Hebe even began to consider telling him the truth of her immortality.

TW mentions of assault [+]

However Chadwick was under a lot of pressure from his parents to perform well at school...his appetite for parties and stupidity being reflected in his poor grades. Frustrated, he began to take it out on Hebe. He always seemed to be angry at her for something, and though she tried her best to console him, nothing worked. He made her feel guilty and she didn't dare leave him, choosing instead to put up with his foul temper. Hebe soon sunk into something akin to depression, barely attending her classes and isolating herself from her friends. She daren't reach out to the other gods for help, scared they would laugh at her for being afraid of a mortal. And she probably would've put up with this for a long time...if it weren't for that night. As had become habit, Chad came home drunk. It was practically a daily ritual but Hebe simply ignored him the best she could. However, on this particular night he tried to force himself upon her despite her protests. Horrified...terrified, Hebe managed to get away, but it left behind a shadow that she could never forget.

Luckily for her, The Colossus moved a few weeks after and she was able to run away to the safety of Seattle. It took her a couple of years, but Hebe was eventually able to find her feet again. She signed up for a course in Anthropology at the University and even dared to join a sorority once more (Alpha Delta Pi to be specific). Although she will never forget what happened, she has managed to settle in well and has a good group of friends. She still keeps her distance from the other gods, barely having seen any of them since the move.