---

APOLLO

---

He opens his eyes to the sound of a young man’s laugh. Golden light cascading across sun-kissed skin, an ornate goblet filled to the brim with red wine. They’re alone, him and this man, in a bed of clouds, laughing and drinking in the sight of one another. A lyre plays it’s tune softly, and for a moment, he is at peace, until the young man drapes himself across his bare chest, and whispers in his ear, “Wake up…”

---

Apollo sat up in bed, breathing heavily. Outside, clouds reigned supreme in the sky, another overcast day in Seattle. He lifted a hand, but before he could snap his fingers, a voice reached his ears. “Finally, you sleep like the dead.” The once great god spun around, half-expecting the voice to belong to the man in his dream. When his eyes fell on a blonde woman, naked save for his bedsheets, he reminded himself that Hyacinth was long dead.

Waking up next to someone beautiful wasn’t uncommon for Apollo. Waking up to multiple beautiful people wasn’t even uncommon anymore. Most mornings, this would be a pleasant surprise, followed by rounds four and five, and homemade breakfast with some fallen gods. On mornings like this, when Hyacinth came to visit him in his dreams, the men and women who found themselves in Apollo’s bed were in for much less fun.

“Sorry, what’s your name again?” he asked, running a hand through his dirty blonde hair and rubbing the sleep from his tired face. That line usually worked, as long as he coupled it with just the right amount of confusion and exasperation. Given that his memory of the night before certainly didn’t include this girl, it was a fairly easy sell.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The blonde threw the sheets from her body, revealing a sight that made Apollo reconsider his decision. She put on her clothes like a girl who was used to storming out the next morning, silently but with a certain anger that could be felt without words. By the time he had his boxers on, she was grabbing her wallet, and flipping him off. “It’s Brenda, asshole!” The sound of her heels clicking on the floor and the front door slamming told him she was gone.

Apollo sighed, and got out of bed, stepping in front of the mirror for a moment. Even though he’d looked more or less the same for the past two centuries, it still hurt to remember what he’d once looked like. Golden hair had faded to this dishwater color, and his once luminous skin was just like any other mortals. Eyes that had shone like the sun were now deep pools of brown sludge. He was painfully mortal.

Painfully mortal or not, the Conclave was still ahead of them, and his head was pounding. One thing he missed about nectar: no hangovers. His bare feet padded against the cold tile of the apartment he shared with Herc, stepping over clothes that he was certain weren’t either of theirs.

In the kitchen, he set to work with his usual morning routine, doing his best to push through the lethargy that still gripped him tight. “Don’t yack in the blender Pollo, please,” he mumbled to himself as he filled the blender in question with ginger, orange juice, some ice, and three, five hundred milligram pills of Ibuprofen. The blender turned on, an obnoxious noise that could be heard throughout the condo, and while it ran, Apollo set to work preparing breakfast for whoever the hell had spent the night at his house. If the blender didn’t get them up, then the clanging of metal pans surely would. He snapped his fingers, and the sun slowly began peeking out from behind the clouds, until the kitchen was bathed in light pouring through the windows. If he was going to this family reunion, the least it could be is sunny.

---

^{Little Marjoram > Seattle University}

The day for Shango began like most days.

Passed out in a dumpster with one leg sticking out of it. Most nights Shango usually got drunk off his ass and passed out, and most days Shango spent it sleeping it off. Sometimes he ran out of alcohol and spent his days playing the drums for money. Of course, he always used it to buy alcohol and whatever he didn't spend he gave to charity. They always found it strange that a homeless man like Shango donated so much of his wealth to others. Heh, they should make an article about it.

Normally, he sleeps in the nearest dumpster but he always finds himself drawn to the Little Marjoram and its delightful dumpster. Even if Shango would rate the dumpster a 1/10, he'll take it over any other dumpster. Why you ask? Mostly because it pisses off Imentet or "Charlotte Buyer" as she calls herself. Usually, she would have run him out by now but she was probably busy.

However, he quickly became cognizant as he heard a bird flying up and he almost instinctively woke up. Because he was tired of flying rats shittin' on him while he was asleep. The mortals were going to start catching onto all the pigeons being zapped with lightning. His eyes shot open and the first thing he saw as a freaking crow with a rolled note in its mouth. It dropped its package on his face and Shango instinctively closed his eyes as he growled. It flew off as Shango took the note off his face and he sat up and unrolled the note.

"I swear if this the work of that bastard Odin..." Shango hissed to himself as he looked at it before his eyes opened. "... Oh, here we go again."

---

A man wearing tattered clothes and quite honestly smelling bad walking into Seattle University like he owns the place is a sight. Shango stepped in with his hands in his pockets, wearing jeans, a white tank-top, sunglasses, tattered old Timberlands, and boots. He had a toothpick in between his teeth as he walked into the place where the Conclave was going to be. Which he was super excited... in case you didn't realize, he was not excited for it at all. Because the last Conclave was pretty stupid in his opinion and he was tempted to not even show up to this one. Only reason he showed up was the hope that they'll discuss something useful.

He pushed the doors open and quickly put his hands back in his pockets as he saw that a few Gods had already arrived. Fortunately, not one of the Greek Gods because Shango definitely didn't have a high opinion of them. It was apparent that The Morrigan was the one that called this Conclave... or someone else did and she just decided to rent out the place.

What an upstanding individual.

Shango put his foot upon one of the chairs and looked at her as he decided to cut to the chase. "What's the point of this Conclave, eh?" He started, "And please tell me it's not going to be like the last time when you tried to blame one of us for World War Two... I think you forgot we're trapped here in America 'til further notice."

---

YASMIN

---

SNAP

Plumes of smoke billowed into the air, ash and embers drifting on the breeze as day turned into night. Ruin, destruction, and mayhem spreading like frenzied chaos causing terror in its wake as people ran in hopes to escape. No one was safe, hiding would mean the end and running didn’t necessarily increase the chances of life if that decision was made. The streets ran red, the fallen scattered about the ground, buildings toppled over to rumble, and the screams of the living echoed in the distance.

CRACK

Pain and suffering were found in every corner of the unfortunate city. The actions of a few now falling onto the innocent, punished for sins and crimes they did not commit. It wasn’t meant to be this way. This has not been the plan. No one would have suspected the events that had taken place would unfold into such a tragedy. No others were meant to be harmed, only those that had justly deserved what had befallen them at that time but it mattered not now.

RIP

The coppery metallic taste in her mouth was better than the sweetest of wines and made her crave more with each taste. The scattering at just the sight of her was just amusing and the need to chase thrilling. The sounds of screams were a symphony in her ear but it wasn’t enough. The rage she felt was a rush of poison flowing into her veins giving her a dose of pain that resided by the pleasure, tainting and dulling it. She wanted them all to suffer. They deserved it. They had connived, deciding to threaten one who was precious to her. It had been so extreme that he had come to her for assistance. They had shown no remorse for their vows to harm. Why should she?

CHUNK

She tossed the unwanted part aside, this plaything no longer fun. It was time to move on to another. She felt like she was in a haze, gliding as she moved in what was like an unseeing fog. She reveled in the destruction she had laid upon this city, her blood thirsty nature brought out when placing justice but that nagging in the back her mind kept clawing at her. What was wrong? She was doing as she was supposed to, right? Why didn’t she feel happy like she should? Why did she still feel the undeniable urge to maim everything in her path? She wanted to scream her anger at the world! What was holding her back? A noise caught her attention, a young mother meeting her gaze with fear in her eyes. Her heart hurt….why did she look like that? No woman should look like that….no mother should fear in such a way…...the cry rang in her ears felt painful, echoing endlessly.

”Hathor, what have you done?”

The haze she had been under faded, the sounds of a silky rich voice making its way to her ears. She took in the sight of all she had done. Guilty, agony, terror, and shame boiling in her, shaky hands covering her mouth as she felt like she might hurl.

”I didn’t ask for this. They were innocent. Can you live with yourself? With their blood and souls on your hands?”

”I didn’t mean to! I-I would never...this is a mistake.she whimpered, tears springing into her eyes as she gripped her head.

”It’s all your fault. You did this. How can you live with yourself?

”Please stop...I’m sorry! Forgive me!

”Oh Hathor, it’s not me that you should be begging for forgiveness from….it’s them…”

Her eyes widened, turning to view the sea of people looking at her with sadness and some in anger, the look of betrayal etched on all their faces. Some asked for a reason, others screamed at her, the blame and consequences set on her shoulders weighing her down. Hands grabbed at her, souls of her victims dragging her down, and swarming her. The voices and cries echoing and all too much, an overwhelming sensation that left her feeling strangled and without voice. She could barely see, the world around her getting further from her reach as darkness set in, the light of the sun abandoning her, and the voices never stopping their torture.

”_{Please stop}..._{Stop it}...leave me alone...I SAID…”



”STOP!!”, she cried out in a panic while jolting up from her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks and shaking like a leaf. Her body felt covered in sweat, her baggy nightshirt clinging to her body and her hair trying to stick to her damp cheeks. Her hand automatically reached out to the space next to her, finding it empty and loneliness creeping up on her as she placed her head in her hands. She curled up in a ball and took deep breaths, trying to get control of herself. It was in the past, she wasn’t always like that. She wouldn’t become like that again. It was a mistake. Hathor’s train of thought was snagged from her, her phone chiming with an alarm and she slowly moved out of her protective ball to grab it. Why the hell had she set a damn alarm after a late night? The title of the alarm said it all though and made a frown etch on her features. Of course, just her luck that today was the Conclave when she had little to no sleep and a nightmare to boot.

Hathor sighed, scrubbing her hands through her untamed mass of curls before resting them on the back of her neck. Nothing good ever came from wallowing on what was. She should just focus on the now, one step at a time and right now, the first step was a shower then coffee or maybe something stronger. She threw off the covers, leaving the bed a mass of tangled sheets and scattered pillows which would be future Hathor’s problem and headed for a well deserved shower, chucking off her clothes as she went. After the much needed shower, she was at least feeling like somewhat of a human being which wasn’t close to any way she wanted to feel being a goddess but better than the wreck she felt like earlier. She yanked off the towel from her body, using it to dry her hair a bit as she moved to the kitchen, working on grabbing the coffee grounds from the pantry and getting a thermos for the road. She would need as much time as possible to get ready so this would have to be a pour, grab, and go.

The sound of brewing coffee was like the songs of….well she wasn’t sure...something majestic. Fuck it was too early for this shit. She got to work on her hair, fussing with it until ultimately deciding she didn’t have time to mess with it and blow drying instead so it could stay in its mass of chocolate curls. Hathor sauntered out of the bathroom and back into her bedroom, determined to find the perfect outfit to make her feel irresistible and confident, neither of which she felt emotionally at the moment. She looked through the closet, feeling completely uninspired for the first twenty minutes until she stumbled upon the perfect outfit and it would go perfect with her new high heeled boots. The day might be brightening after all!

She dressed swiftly, taking a moment to admire her work in the mirror before adding the last minute details such as earrings and makeup. Hathor grabbed her purse, keys, and thermos full of that sugary death trap that had once been only coffee before going out the door. There was only one good thing about this time of day in her opinion and that was less traffic. She hated being stuck in the car for too long, music only being able to distract from the rage inducing thing that was high volume traffic for so long. Honestly, music was a lifesaver at times. It didn’t take long for her to get to the university, GPS being her best friend today though she was probably going to arrive later than some of the group. Not that she necessarily cared if they were upset by that fact. She just didn’t have it in her today. As it was, she was pretty sure nothing good would come of this meeting as it never had before. It was usually death, war, or destruction that brought them in and those were subjects that made her sensitive at the moment. Her heart always went out to the fallen and probably would even more so today. She felt sensitive.

Hathor wandered around the campus, trying to find where the conference even was and then spent more time wondering that building to find the exact one The Morrigan had set it for. There were quite a few already there, the seats looking cheap and probably uncomfortable but it wasn’t like she planned to be there long and would live. She took her set, crossing her legs as she pulled out her phone and kept herself busy with games. She normally would have been friendly, trying to rope people into a conversation or checking in with how they were doing but it wasn’t what she felt like doing. She already wanted to just stay in bed and be alone. Instead, she was getting a large group of people and not of them sunshine or rainbows. Fabulous, just her luck….

---

---

Speaks With: N/A
Mentioned: N/A

---

ARTEMIS

---

At Moon River, everyone rose with the sun, and Artemis had never exempted herself from this rule. Today, like most days, as the dim, golden haze of a Seattle sunrise creeped over the horizon, Artemis was exiting the large, two-story, bracket shaped compound that housed her and her followers. The Main House, as it was officially known, also provided a workspace to make the crafts and charms that served as one of many sources of income. It was a humble building, mostly made of wood and glass. Through the large, floor to ceiling windows, she could just barely see her Maidens, draped in flowing white gowns passing by.

The Maidens were the lifeforce of Moon River, the followers that Artemis had deemed trustworthy and useful enough to stay at Moon River year round. They kept the retreat afloat with their work, and a lucky few were even made personal assistants to Artemis. Those girls knew the truth of her identity, and had been sworn to keep it a secret. Those who didn’t, learned a great deal about why Artemis had been so feared, once upon a time.

To the right of the compound, two identical, circular buildings stood, similar in design to the main building, though the windows were smaller and less numerous. These were where the guests stayed, cozied up in bunks. Away from modern material needs, they spent two weeks here learning to reconnect with nature, and themselves. At least, that’s what Selena O’Ryan told them. In truth, Artemis had come to believe that most mortals weren’t cut out for that way of life, and nothing she could do would solve the problems they were facing.

That didn’t stop her from taking their money though, and doing what she could. Mortals were foolish, fickle creatures, often hell bent on self sabotage, but she’d also seen the compassion they were capable of. They were flawed, but they were getting better, slowly, but surely. She watched as Thalia, one of her Maidens, gathered the women who’d come to stay, and led them towards the river, and out of sight.

Across from the guest quarters, to the left of the Main House was a large greenhouse. Here, the staff that remained year round as well as the guests, grew and harvested the food that kept Moon River fed. Another greenhouse could be spied, if you knew just where to look, off through the trees. There, cannabis was being harvested and packaged, to be sent to dispensaries in the city. Once, her people had used the plant for medicine, and it seemed that the mortals were finally coming around to it’s uses again. That particular greenhouse had been kept under much harsher security, since Apollo had spirited away with more than enough to keep one of his dumb parties soaring.

Artemis took a deep breath, smiling softly as the early morning air filled her with a pleasant sense of energy. Out here, in the forests, she was home. The cities that men had built were loathsome to her. She would be in the thick of Seattle today, for the Conclave, a sickening thought. She might need to make a stop at Tessie’s afterwards.

The Conclave was not her priority right now, however. She had her Maidens to check in on, guests to speak with, a life to lead, and hopefully later, a little bird to check in with. Selena O’Ryan began her day, unbothered by the cold air that pricked her skin.

---

Many hours later, Artemis sat in the back of a white Lexus, her face hidden behind tinted windows. She’d exchanged the simple, white drapings of Moon River for an outfit more fitting for the Conclave. In her hands was a worn copy of The Awakening by Kate Chopin. In the front seat, one of the Moon River girls sat behind the wheel, dressed in a suit befitting Artemis’ personal driver. Artemis closed the book as the back driver side door opened, and a slender, blonde woman folded herself into the car. Her face was smudged with makeup, and her hair tousled, as if she’d just been in bed. Zoe Holliday.

Zoe was a Maiden, a girl from Seattle that had started up with Moon River shortly after it opened. In her time as a lower level staff member, she’d proven herself resourceful, self-reliant, and above all else, devoted. Once she was brought into the fold, she quickly made herself an invaluable asset for Artemis’ off-site jobs.

“Tell me, I didn’t just waste my time,” Artemis said, slowly and methodically opening a leather purse that rested at her feet, and stowing her book inside.

“I came late, like you said to, and wore that flower you gave me. Worked like a charm. He came over, asked me to dance, and when things started winding down, I asked him to show me his room, and he did, and then after, we had a few more drinks, I asked him why he looked so familiar-”

Artemis rolled her eyes and cut in. “Zoe, you’ll write a full report for me once you’re back at Moon River. Right now, I’m going to the Conclave, and I’d like to know something about what I’m walking into,” she said, her voice terse.

“If you’d let me finish, you’d know that he knows nothing. Just like I told you he would. Thalia did this same thing last year when you thought he might’ve found the Colossus, but his ‘big discovery’ was just a stash of drugs that he’d lost. Your brother is an idiot, and if anyone knows something, it’s certainly not him.” Zoe’s tone matched Artemis’ in coolness.

Artemis sat silently for a moment. Zoe was right of course, and she’d voiced these same opinions last night, though more politely. It was Artemis who hadn’t listened, and that was the only reason why she wasn’t making plans to bury another body in the forest. Finally, she nodded. “As always Zoe, your work is appreciated, even if your tone isn’t. I guess I’ll just have to find out with everyone else.” She sighed, but did not let the annoyance with her failure overwhelm her precious calm. Her plan had been a long shot anyways. She tapped the back of her driver’s shoulder, and the Lexus began pulling away.

---

As her car pulled up to a curb at the edge of Seattle University’s campus, Artemis met her driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Take her home, and then see what you can do there. I’ll call you if I need anything,” she instructed, before stepping out of the car, leaving Zoe to catch up on lost sleep in the backseat.

As she walked across campus, many students turned their heads, and a brave few stopped her for pictures. Artemis was annoyed by the interruption, already perturbed by the hustle and bustle of the city, but Selena O’Ryan could not afford to be annoyed. Her brand was built on her image as a kind, motherly soul. She smiled, and took the pictures.

After escaping the clutches of another fan, Artemis entered one of the main university buildings, and found their meeting place. A dingy conference room. Nice.

She eyed the current faces in the room. She gave a wave to Kore and Hypnos, but upon seeing that she was seated next to Ares, again, she quickly turned to Parvati, and headed to her table. The Morrigan really needed to stop making seating charts if she was gonna keep inviting the Greeks. Taking a seat she gave her friend a smile. “You’d think she’d have figured out by now that I don’t sit next to Ares.”

Talking with: @NeoAJ

I wonder what this is Conclave about, Mėnuo thought as he waited at a red light. The last one about who started world war two was certainly eventful. Watching himself and others get blamed was tiring. Who could have guessed that mortals are naturally able to start conflicts like that by themselves. Though it did dawned on him that the Conclave was about the missing Colossus. Mėnuo did think about where that thing was sometimes since moving to Seattle. Wondering who could have taken it but, it did not worry about it after figuring out it was somewhere in Seattle.

Finally, the light turned green and Mėnuo continued his drive to university. It was not hard for him to make up an excuse for why he had to leave his restaurant. He at least was sure his staff did not suspect that anything was wrong or off. Either way, Mėnuo had no reason to worry about them as he drove into the university's parking lot. He did spot what was he was worried about. Mainly dreading but, her car was there and yep, she is coming out of it. Saulė, his ex-wife and no doubt that their children are either on route or already here. Mėnuo took a deep breath as he watched Saulė leave the parking lot and got out of his car. Time to see what this is about and hopefully not to be seated next to her like last time. He does not need to feel that level of awkwardness today.

Entering the conference room and noting that some of the gods were already here. Stopping in his place once, his eyes laid on Saulė before turning his eyes to an empty chair far from her. Mėnuo sat down in the uncomfortable chair and thought it would have been nice to have a better conference room than this. However, he knows that options are not always available with being mortals and all. Instead of talking, Mėnuo chose to remain silent as the other gods showed up and wait to see what reason they had for gathering for this Conclave.

---

HERMES

---

Sleep. Sleep was not something that Hermes cherished, nor sought. Why spend time in slumber, when there were so many frivolities to enjoy in the waking world. His life as a god had been hectic, forever darting from place to place, at the behest of both his own desires, as well as the whims of others. Yet, the realm of unconsciousness was the one place where he could truly fly once more. Where he was able to carousel off with the winds. So, perhaps at the behest of one patron of sleep, or as the result of a lively party, did Hermes pass into these unfamiliar lands.

On this occasion, it was by the hands of the latter that the former messenger of the gods found himself scrunched up in a bathtub, legs hung over the side and head resting uncomfortably against the faucet. Muttering to himself as he slept, Hermes slowly peeped open one eye when he was dragged from his stupor by a familiar voice. He was instantly met by the sight of one very naked looking Heracles, which prompted a small, croaky laugh. The guy spent half of his life in a state of undress, so it wasn't a surprise, infact it was a sight which he welcomed wholeheartedly. "What's up Brotato Chip? You are so naked. Wait...am I?" Looking down, Hermes was surprised to see that he was still wearing his boxers. This was probably the first time he had woken up at Casa De Acropolis wearing more than just his birthday suit. "What happened last night? Last thing I remember was Pol showing everyone his party trick..."

Stretching his arms above his head — his muscles protesting against the sudden movement — Hermes slowly hauled his aching body from the bathtub. He was going to be sore for a week after sleeping like that but at least he hadn’t ended up on the rooftop again. Ignoring the very unclean looking floor, he meandered over to Herc, giving him a small nudge in the side with his foot. "Time to get up man. Wouldn't wanna miss all the fun at the Conclave now would we?" Giving him a small wink before strolling out of the bathroom, Hermes immediately found himself colliding into a smaller someone with a sudden _oof.

"Sorry, didn't see you there..." Cupping a hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn, Hermes glanced down at the very awake looking redhead, her returning gaze all smiles & spiritedness. It took his groggy brain a few moments to get into gear, but eventually it began to come back to him. She was one of the many merrymakers that had found themselves at Casa De Acropolis last night. Sally 'the masseuse' - that was it. From what he recalled she had been very flexible. “Oh, Sally...right. What are you still doing here?” It was a shame they hadn't shared the bathtub together because she was pretty damn hot. Though for all he knew, they had. It really was all a bit of a blur.

“Well, you asked me to watch you sleep—” Hermes did not remember this, “—to make sure that your friends didn’t draw...um what was it. Oh, ‘phallic imagery’ on you!” She peered down at the palm of her hand, where he had apparently drawn a picture for reference (y'know, just in case she didn't recognise it...) Smiling at him, she showed him the crudely drawn image, prompting a small laugh from the messenger god. Wow, this girl was peppy. “Anyway, I went out to get you coffee. Thought you’d need it before your mission!”

Slinging an arm gently around her shoulders, Hermes began to lead the girl slowly down the hallway, trying his best to maneuver her away from the rest of the household. “Thanks Sal. You did a great job! - I am completely penis free. Well, you know, not completely.” He gave her a small lopsided smile as he wrapped his fingers around the styrofoam cup she'd brought for him. If there was one thing he loved about humans, it was the invention of coffee. Well, that and some of their more...illicit creations too. “...Wait - what mission?” Backtracking, Hermes frowned at his own stupidity. What had he said this time? It really did get difficult to keep track after the fifth drink or so.

“Your space mission! You said you were flying to Mercury today...”

“I did? I mean, I did! Yep, very important business.” Furrowing his eyebrows as he walked, Hermes tried to recall what he had said. He briefly remembered something about being an astronaut. That was always a risky play so he was surprised that it had worked. Normally he went with one of the safer options like an actor or royalty. Either way, he should probably get this poor girl out of here before he was actually forced to sign up to NASA. He was pretty sure that the moon was outside the remit of The Colossus.

“Look Sal. I’m leaving earth today…forever." He widened his eyes dramatically as they reached the front door, adopting his best solemn demeanour. It he must play along for a while longer, so be it. "It’s gonna be a pretty emotional goodbye with the boys, so it might be best if we were alone. Between you and me, Jackson is very sensitive about his crying face...gets all red and blotchy y'know? Thanks for the coffee though, you're a star!” Taking a sip from the cup, he nodded happily at the rush of caffeine. "Mm, good stuff."

Sally looked somewhat put out but just shrugged her shoulders, clearly have complete faith in the idea that he was in fact an astronaut. “Oh, of course - bye Harry! Good luck with the aliens!”

Aliens?

Hermes gave her a hesitant wave as he shut the door, letting out a sigh of relief when she was finally gone. Brushing a hand through his tangled mess of hair, he glanced around the apartment. Although turning up to the Conclave in just his boxers would be pretty funny, he probably should try and find his clothes.

Yet before he could look, his attention was diverted by the smell of cooking food wafting over to him from the stovetop. Thank the gods that Apollo could actually cook - if it weren't for him, they were all apt to starve. "Mornin' blondie. What's cooking?" Leaning against the kitchen counter, his blue eyes glanced over the mess of empty bottles, red solo cups and other more questionable items. Picking up one of said cups, he gave it a suspicious sniff before deciding that it was definitely not water. Maybe on another day a hair of the dog would've been desirable but no way was he touching that stuff before the Conclave. He decided to grab a piece of sausage instead, biting into it and nearly burning his tongue in the process. Shit that was hot.

"Dude, you haven't seen my clothes have you? I have no idea where I left them..." Frowning in concentration, Hermes began to pick his way through the piles of clothes and people, treading carefully over the remnants of chaos that had been left in the wake of last night. The place was, as always, a complete mess and he had no luck in finding anything that was either his own or something he would want to wear. "Ah, fuck it." After a few minutes, Hermes gave up, giving Apollo a quick wave before traipsing out of the door. He would just head home in his boxers and shower there...the breeze would wake him up at least.



A short while later, Hermes had successfully gone home, showered, fed Ares & Zeus, and then hauled it all the way across town. He was always one to take things at his own pace but luckily his own pace was pretty damn speedy, so he wasn't all that late. In fact, it kind of seemed like he might be on time. That would definitely be a first. He found the Conclaves terribly boring, only attending them in the hopes that there would be some juicy drama, so being timely wasn't really on his list of priorities.

After getting lost half a dozen times, and also stopping to flirt with a very cute looking teacher's aide, Hermes eventually found the conference room. It for sure wasn't the most upmarket place they'd held these gatherings in, but he didn't really care either way. He paused for a moment to pat down a couple of stray hairs, before pushing open the doors, his gaze instantly straying over to two very familiar faces. Thank god it wasn't just him and Ares - the guy would probably try launch him out of a window before the meeting had even started.

“Hey Kor Kor! Hey Hippo!” Darting over to them, full of energy, you would be hard pressed to realise that Hermes had been dead asleep not so long ago. Peering over Kores shoulder, he couldn’t help but smile to himself when he saw his name taped to the cheap plastic chair. “Oh, looks like we’re sitting together. You lucky duck!” Hermes grinned at her as he plopped himself down on the seat. Shrugging off his jacket, he slung it over the back of his chair, before turning to face his fellow Grecian gods.

“Don’t tell anyone, but I brought snacks!” Leaning conspiratorially towards Kore, he showed her the packet of gummy worms that he'd quickly grabbed on the way here. Bringing a finger to his lips to emphasise his point of keeping it a secret, he opened the bag, before popping one into his mouth. "Oh no, they're sour..." Hermes scrunched up his face at the taste, shaking his head in surprise.

Damn those sour gummies - they got him every time.

---

APOLLO

---

Once the house had emptied and the leftover breakfast had been stowed in the fridge, Apollo piled the dirty dishes in the sink and returned to his room, in need of a shower and some clothes. Still fighting off a hangover, he stepped out of last night’s boxers and shut his door behind him. In his bathroom, he waited while the shower heated up, admiring his reflection in the mirror. Sure, he looked way better two centuries ago, but who didn’t? Herc dragging him to the gym did have it’s perks he supposed.

The sunrays that he’d summoned had disappeared behind the clouds once more by the time he’d stepped back into his room, drying himself off with a towel that had long ago surrendered to the pains of a machine wash. His room was a mess, though, he had to ask, when wasn’t it? White sheets and a down comforter were strewn across his bed, the aftermath of his night with Britney? Wait, that wasn’t right. Bethany? Bella? Eh, whatever, the mortals he slept with were hardly ever important.

It didn’t take long for Apollo to get dressed, and head out to the garage, where his car was waiting. The red, two door beauty had been a gift from Zeus, a replacement for the car he’d wrecked last year. That had been an unpleasant time for sure. He didn’t envy the mortals and the time it took them to heal.

The car was only one of many gifts he’d received since Zeus’ apology tour had started, but easily a favorite. Of course, nothing could compare to his original ride, the “Chariot of The Motherfucking Sun” as he’d taken to calling it. Alas, nothing short of a miracle was bringing his baby back to him, so good ol’ Sgt. Pepper would have to do.

He might’ve waited for CoCo, or made sure Dio and Ben weren't passed out somewhere upstairs, awaiting a wake up call, but today, just for this morning, he’d like to be somewhat selfish. If he drove alone, he’d have a free seat coming back, and his dream had reminded him of somebody who he desperately hoped would make an appearance; somebody who wasn’t dead, just missing. Just missing.

---

Seattle University wasn’t a foreign location to Apollo. He’d graduated as Alexander Calimeris last year, with a degree in music theory, and he regularly attended frat parties here with the rest of the squad. His fifteenth music degree so far by the way, but who’s counting?

Once he parked, he took a detour, putting off the Conclave and any potential disappointment off for a few moments longer. The drive hadn’t cleared his thoughts. If anything, it had muddied them. He strolled across the quad, his eyes focused on his shoes as they charted an ambling course towards a dwindling patch of sunlight. He snapped his fingers and watched as it began to grow. Could he see that? Does he know I’m here now? Would he care?

He kicked at the grass, once, twice, a third time. Self-pity and longing, now those were some friends he hadn’t spoken with in a while. He and happiness had been doing quite alright, with some occasional parties with jealousy and rage every now and again. These two were unwelcome intruders in the sanctuary of his thoughts. All hot and bothered over a few nights, a century ago. When did I turn into Hera?

Everything had been fine, until he heard about the Conclave. The Morrigan’s summons had brought memories of the last godly reunion rushing back, and with them, a face that seemed determined to hang around his subconscious,

Apollo sighed, and did what he could to recenter himself. Closing his eyes, he began to count backwards from five, a trick Ben had taught him, inhaling and exhaling as he did, continuing past the end of his countdown, until he was back to his usual, more chill, less obsessive, state of mind. Sunbeams… lyres strumming… calm breezeeeee, okay we are good

Confident in his ability to keep his head on straight, Apollo set off towards the Conclave, each step bringing him back to his usual self. He held the door for a couple of sorority girls, and flashed them an impeccable smile, earning him a look that he recognized all too well. He grinned, now certain that he was bringing his A game to this meeting.

Throwing open the door to the conference room, Apollo made an entrance typical of the sun god. “Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for, me!” Apollo committed to his act with a fittingly melodramatic bow. As he brought his torso back up, he blew a kiss to his sister, who only rolled her eyes. “Arty, always the critic,” he said, shaking his head.

Eyes landing on Zeus and his danishes, Apollo snatched one up and took a bite, one graceful, fluid motion. “Ooooh, thanks Pops,” he said through a mouthful of pastry. Spinning on his heel, Apollo surveyed the room, realizing very quickly that the one person he’d so desperately wanted to see today, was absent. The disappointment stayed inside, his smile still as bright as his old domain.

Crossing the room, he nodded to Ares and saluted him with his free hand, before taking a seat. His sister might ignore the seating charts, but Apollo found a certain pleasure in gracing his older brother with his audacity. “So, uh, we gettin’ this little party started or what? Who the hell are we waiting for?” Apollo called out, very much aware of who the hell he was waiting for.

“Well, me, I’d hope.”

Fuck. Me

---

HERA

---

The first cries of a baby girl rang out, echoing off the walls of the OR. Dr. Karen Bailey smiled, though it was hidden behind her surgical mask, and cradled the just-cleaned newborn in her arms. Cooing softly, she carried her over to the mother, who reached out a hand to touch her child. Dr. Bailey leaned forward, allowing them to meet for just a moment, before handing the child off to a nurse. “Alright Emily, Dr. Han is going to finish up here, and get you ready to go hold your baby girl, okay?”

“Okay,” Emily said, her voice tired and raspy, and Karen Bailey exited the OR, scrubbing out and washing her hands before heading out into the halls of the hospital.

Emily Baker had been her last surgery of the shift, an emergency C-section at the last minute. She’d been up all night, slicing and sutchering, filling out paperwork, but the little Baker girl was the only baby she’d delivered today. Her years on earth had done little to dim the light that began to warm her everytime she aided a mother in meeting her child. It was divine, the first cries of a child as it’s soul adjusted to the cruel plane of mortals. Beautiful, the way a mother’s eyes lit up when they landed on her newborn. Of course, the warm never lasted long. It was a mercurial high, fleeting yet oh so enchanting.

Once inside her office, Dr. Bailey slipped off her lab coat, and she was Hera once more. Her short, platinum hair was disheveled, no longer the sharp, severe cut it had been when she arrived last night. The overnight shifts were unpleasant, and Hera shuddered to think about how they’d make her feel if she was truly mortal. She pushed through the exhaustion that was beginning to creep its way up her legs.

As Hera strutted out of her office, and down the hall towards the exit, her colleagues smiled and waved. Some offered kudos for some complex surgeries that had been completed since they last spoke. Dr. Bailey was a well respected OBGYN, and one of a handful who specialized in maternal-fetal surgeries. Of course her colleagues loved her, and she loved their love.

Outside, a cab pulled over for the Queen of the Gods, and saved her from the Seattle breeze tugging at her coat. “80th and Burke,” she instructed the driver, checking her watch to confirm that she wouldn’t be late to this Conclave.

Conclaves, gods, those had been something. They’d grown fewer and farther between as the years turned to decades, and the decades turned to centuries. As much as she despised most of those attending, this was an invaluable chance to get her own eyes on her fellow deities. The information that could be gathered here could prove useful, and she still needed to talk to Hephaestus about some funding for the hospital. His mortal alias was the newest mayor of Seattle, and he’d promised her more money from the budget would be directed to the hospital. Figures, once she actually needs his help, he turns off his phone.

No matter. She’d certainly see her youngest son in a little less than an hour, and she already knew Ares was attending. In an effort to keep her sanity in check, Hera made a very pointed effort to avoid any and all thoughts of who else might be there. Ares (and Hephaestus) held the most important place in her heart, and that was why she was going today. To be a good mother. Or at least, that’s what she told herself.

---

Forty-five minutes later, Hera sat in the back of a different taxi, heading for Seattle University. Of course The Morrigan couldn’t have splurged for somewhere a little less… dingy. Maybe she should start arranging these meetings? Hera had always had an eye for party planning after all.

The pantsuit she’d put on at her apartment hugged her frame tightly but, not uncomfortably so. There was no way she would have shown up right after her shift, clad in sneakers and scrubs. Hera insisted on making an entrance, especially at big gatherings like this, and everyone knew the first step to a killer entrance was a gorgeous outfit.

Casually ignoring a No Smoking sign that was plastered on the window, Hera pulled out a cigarette and set it alight, rolling down her window and exhaling the nicotine laced smoke out into the city. The taxi driver glared at her in the rearview mirror, but he didn’t say much else. The aura of authority that she exuded was evident to mortals as well as gods. This was not a woman to be trifled with.

By the time she’d burned the cigarette down to it’s filter, she’d paid her driver and was standing outside, leaning against a stone pillar. Mortals who passed her gave her curious looks. Who was this woman, dressed in pink, a lost member of the royal family choking down a cheap cigarette? The smoking was a guilty pleasure, truly. Most everything she owned was absurdly expensive, the highest quality items for the highest quality goddess. When it came to cigarettes though, she’d developed a taste for the cheaper ones, thanks to her last husband.

Flicking the remains to the ground, Hera brought the toe of her shoe down, smothering the embers between her foot and the concrete. Show time.

Now, Hera had found that, while a gorgeous outfit can really make for a killer entrance, a perfect setup makes a more memorable one, and Apollo really did tee her up perfectly, though she was sure he didn’t mean to.

“So, uh, we gettin’ this little party started or what? Who the hell are we waiting for?”

“Well, me, I’d hope,” Hera replied, her voice haughty and full of a self-importance that put most gods to shame. Heads turned as she made her presence known, mostly staring daggers at her. She smiled, as if the hatred of others fueled her. In some ways, it did. “I know everyone was just dying to see me after all, sorry I’m a little late. I had the busiest night, and ugh! Surgery is hard fucking work.” Hera let out an exasperated groan, reveling in the uncomfortable silence she’d created. She waved at Ares, beaming at her baby boy, but didn’t get up to get closer to him. Antagonizing Apollo was more fun if it was a slow burn. As she scanned the room her eyes caught Zeus’ and they narrowed and she glanced away, the first genuine reaction she’d had since arriving. She found a table on her own, and took a seat, hopeful that her former husband had learned his place.