Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by smarty0114
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smarty0114 Human

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š•Æš–Žš–˜š–ˆš–šš–˜š–˜š–Žš–”š–“š–˜
š•Æš–Žš–˜š–ˆš–šš–˜š–˜š–Žš–”š–“š–˜

location: Outside Odin's Place | In the car
interactions: Anteros | Hati | Tochi | Hermes
mentions: Deimos | Odin | Athena | Isabel




Anteros stood outside Odinā€™s apartment building, his tuxedo now covered by a heavy coat to combat the Seattle chill. He wrung his hands together while he waited for Hati to return from Odinā€™s penthouse, trying his best to push thoughts of his sister from his mind. Athena is on it. She will find her.

Heā€™d wanted to go up with Hati, but he allowed himself to be relegated to this vantage point outside. He couldā€™ve fought him on it, but he respected that Hati and Odin had a complicated relationship, one that Hati wasnā€™t exactly keen to have on display. He could relate to that. Still, worry for his friend continued to creep through his thoughts until Hati stepped outside and he was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

ā€œHow did that go?ā€ he asked, stepping off the wall and smoothing out his coat.

A lot of things were turning over in his mind, so much so that it made his head hurt and stomach churn the more he thought about it. But there was just something about all of this that screams of corruption in a way that was much, much larger than anything he had faced before. Larger than even the High One could ever hope to orchestrate. His gaze only softened when eyes raked over Antā€™s features, huddled there under the awning trying to keep dry and warm. It was as if a wave of relief washed over him, to see the Erote there, waiting for him.

Sighing heavily and running a hand through his hair, musing it up in the process, he voiced some of the issues plaguing his mind. It would be a moment before the winged messenger came to pick them up, they had time to mull over the events of the day. "It went about as expected, the old man is saying he doesnā€™t know anything but I call bullshit," The pressure from grinding his teeth together was enough to be heard, even as he continued on, "He knows something," his hair was slowly growing more and more out of control the longer he continued to play with it. A habit only showcased after speaking or coming into contact with the Norse Zeus.

"What is he playing at? Why hadnā€™t he informed the divine within the confines of the law about the weapon and its capabilitiesā€”"

Anteros stepped closer to the wolf, and placed a soothing hand on his shoulder. ā€œDonā€™t let him send you spiraling. Thatā€™s the last thing we need right now.ā€ He removed his hand before his emotions could overtake him and he attempted to smooth out Hatiā€™s hair. They had not been those kinds of friends for quite some time.

ā€œIf Odinā€™s claiming the weapon was used without him knowing, perhaps that answers your question. You know him better than I do, would he really announce to all the pantheons that his vault had been pilfered?ā€

How Hati wished that he had kept his contact with him. How he craved it, though he wouldn't be so bold as to say as much now. Not today. After everything that has transpired between waking and now... it wouldn't be fair to either party involved; even to those not present. Sighing heavily he nodded, Anteros was always someone who could speak sense into that thick canine skull of his, and for that he was more than appreciative. "You're right. He would have gloated and made some kind of show... even in riddles he can't hide his pride for long. And there was none of that." A beat passed between them as the rest of the world continued on around them. Lights and sounds and smells jumbled amidst one another, pieced together to make up the night; an almost calming end to a chaotic day.

"Tell me," Hati began carefully. How he chose his next words could either break their lifelong friendship or break Anteros mentally, and the Moon Chaser would much rather break their relationship over seeing him so torn up and empty. "That woman I told you about earlier. The new client turns out she is your half sister... and I think she's involved with these crimes," He scanned the Erote's profile for any signs of agitation, trying to prepare for whatever came next.

Pursed lips betrayed Anterosā€™ feelings on the subject, even as his eyes darted away from Hatiā€™s. A mortal half-sister to replace the immortal one. The Fates certainly had a cruel sense of humor. ā€œMy siblings do have a penchant for violence, more often than not,ā€ Anteros said with a sigh. This day was neverending, and so it seemed, was the flow of unfortunate news. He clenched his fist, digging his fingernails into the skin of his thumb as he fought to remain his calm and composed self. He did not have the energy to lose control of his emotions once more. ā€œWhy do you suspect her? Cause if itā€™s daddy issues, I might be inclined to take her side.ā€

Hati couldn't help the barking laugh that escaped him. "Daddy issues... how I wish it were that simple. If that were the only deciding factor than a lot more than your new found half sister would be on the list." His insensitivity was not at the expense of Anteros' suffering, never. But he found the comment, though poking it was, to be the sort of dark humor he needed. "No, I suspect her involvement because of how she came into town, the day the Festival began, so high and mighty. There's no way she wasn't aware of the divine, us meeting for the apples. Seeking me out for some fool's errand? It all seems too convenient for my liking. Why else would she be here than to cause some chaos?" He shot a glare past Ant's head towards the oncoming headlights as they stood, huddled beneath the awning.

"Nothing about this day feels right. It's been off since this morning... since meeting her. It's when this, static like apprehension began. I don't like this, Ant. Something is very wrong, I can sense it." As if realizing his words however, he spun to face the young man beside him, grabbing a hold of his shoulders tightly, comfortingly. "I will do whatever I can to help aid your father and Athena in searching for Pothos, you know that, right?" Hati needed him to understand that. He wouldn't just let Anteros suffer in such a way. He hadn't had Skƶll with him for ages now and he knew the ultimate grief that had begun to set into the bones of his old flame. It was only a matter of time before darker stages took root. Hati would do whatever it took to chase those demons away.

The moment between Anteros and Hati was looking closer and closer like something out of a saccharine soap opera and the only ones who liked those were retired or divorced women. It was scientifically proven. The headlights that had been seen were abruptly shut off as the vehicle rolled to a stop across from where Ant and Hati stood. Before a response could be given by Anteros, a sharp, loud, bleating blare of a horn pierced through the air. It lasted for what seemed an eternity - as anything loud and annoying does -and when it stopped at last there was an almost two second window before it sounded again. This one, somehow, lasted even longer. Naturally there was a third one that, strangely, was cut off far more quickly than the first two. The passenger side window rolled down and the shit-eating, wide grin of Huixtocihuatl smiled towards the pair under the awning.

ā€œI hope you guys got condoms with how badly youā€™re eye fucking each other. Get in the car, nerds, I want a Happy Meal.ā€

Idle complaints from the driver could be heard, though not audible over the sounds of Tochiā€™s never-ending banter. Once she finished though, the driver side door flew open and a familiar voice filled the air. ā€œFor fuckā€™s sake, Hati, Iā€™m not ubering you to a love hotel, my man. Sorry about her, sheā€™s moody because I wouldnā€™t swing through the drive-thru on the way over here. Fuckinā€™ brat. Bet Iā€™m expected to pay, too.ā€ By the time Hermes had finished speaking, he was out of the car and leaning on the roof of it to peer over at Anteros and Hati. ā€œAnt, you cominā€™ with us? We got an adventure to go on. And weā€™ll be going through the drive-thru.ā€

He paused and looked down at the car where Tochi still sat, before idly nodding his head with an overly dramatic sigh, ā€œAnd yes, Iā€™ll be paying, so donā€™t bust out your pocketbooks yet, lads. Letā€™s rock and roll. The backseat is dark, you guys can make goo-goo eyes and suck on each otherā€™s tongues or whatever there.ā€ Hermes said, drumming his hands on the roof of his car as he gestured for Hati and Anteros to move it along, ā€œweā€™ve got a long night ahead of us, and I gotta feed my tortoises, so time is of the essence.ā€

Anteros sighed, the mood having been very passionately and violently murdered. He wondered if that was such a bad thing. He and Hati had given it a go, back in simpler times, and all heā€™d gotten for it were emotional scars and a penchant for troublemakers. ā€œHermes, Tochi, always a pleasure,ā€ Ant said, stepping back from Hati. ā€œOnly you two could be present for a double homicide, and still be in the mood for chicken nuggets.ā€ Anteros went around to the driverā€™s side and slipped into the backseat. ā€œWhat exactly is this adventure?ā€

ā€œWho cares about a double homicide? That happened like forever ago.ā€ Tochi scoffed as she waited for the slowpoke lovebirds to get into the car; every second they wasted getting in was a second she was without late night McDonaldā€™s in her throat. And everyone knew late night McDonaldā€™s was one of the few things the mortals did that might have earned them a spot in paradise. ā€œOh wow someone died so sad. Letā€™s all stand around moping and discussing boring shit like ā€˜mortalityā€™ or whatever and then later we can pull on each otherā€™s dicks and smell our own farts.ā€ Tochiā€™s voice was a mocking tone, she sounded as if she was trying to both be fancy and uptight but also someone masculine, like she was trying to be the Greek philosophers of old. Or what most poor people thought rich people with monocles sounded like.

ā€œFor the record, I donā€™t even want to be here, but Jerkass here kidnapped me. By getting into the car youā€™re both accessories to the crime, just ef-why-eye. Speaking of Jerkass, hey, Jerkass, lemme have the aux. You promised.ā€™ He did no such thing and the last time Tochi had control of the aux when around Hermes she played Take My Breath Away by Berlin on loop. She hated the song, yes, but she liked making fun of Hermes for thinking the movie it came from was the apex of cinema. And then she played Disco Duck. Tochi was nothing if not an audio terrorist when given the opportunity.

ā€œI still donā€™t even know why Iā€™m here. I mean other than he promised McDonaldā€™s. Why are you guys coming? Do you want me to adjust the mirrors so you guys can make out back there? I can promise to only watch until it gets creepy. And then a little more.ā€

The comments in general, for the moment that was there at least, were unwelcome, but nothing could be done about it now. Their ride was here. Hermes had mentioned something about needing to swing by and grab Deimos when he called his friend earlier. Not ideal, but what could he do? "Ah, little sister, good to see you too~" He purred, making sure to ruffle her hair a little more than usual as he made to sit in the cramped backseat. It would bother her no doubt - it's why he did it. "And if you want to watch so much, please make sure to record and post it. I'd like to make some money off of it." His quip didn't hold the same lightness to it that it typically would. Hati supposed it came from the agitation he still held from his meeting with Odin.

Hermes had pulled away from the curb as soon as the door closed and they were off on this "adventure" of grabbing food. The car was silent except for the Aztec gremlin's snorts and giggles as she shuffled through song after song all in the hopes of annoying the passengers around her. How in the world she was from the same pantheon as Tlazōlteōtl was a mystery to him. "Where is our lovely Dread this evening that she would need you to pick her up? Finally get caught doing something illegal?" The white wolf couldn't help but release a chuckle of his own as he peered at the driver from his place in the back. Anteros so close to him and yet much too far.

Anteros scoffed. ā€œKnowing my sister, that is exactly where we are off to.ā€ He shook his head, floored by the myriad of directions his family had managed to pull him in today, and by his own willingness to follow along every time.

Hermes adjusted the mirror to look back at Anteros and Hati in the backseat with a smirk on his lips. He hadnā€™t realized heā€™d have the honor of being the first to tell Anteros his sister had ended up in prison again. ā€œFrom what she told meā€¦ she seems to have stabbed someone. And, as the one who holds her leash, it unfortunately falls on me to pay her bail and pick her up.ā€ He adjusted the mirror to make eye contact with Hati, adding. ā€œDonā€™t stick your dick in crazy, my man.ā€ He said, before shifting the car into gear and pulling away from the curb heā€™d picked them up on.

ā€œI hope she was wearing something cute when she got picked up, because weā€™re going to a party after this. And yes, Tochi, Iā€™ll buy you chicken nuggets.ā€ Hermes said, figuring that all of his iā€™s were dotted and his tā€™s crossed. ā€œAny issues with the plan, tell me now.ā€

ā€œYou hold her leash? Youā€™re not that kinky, dude and youā€™d definitely be the type to be led around by a woman. Cuz you a bitch!ā€ Tochi took the opportunity to press a button on her phone which, because it was now hooked up to the speakers in the car, blasted the passengers with a loud, abrasive, piercing air horn straight from an app that existed only to play the air horn sound. ā€œGet it? Cuzā€¦bitches are girl dogs? Iā€™m funny, itā€™s funny!ā€

Her point made, Tochi went back to doing what she did best: finding the absolute worst possible song for them to ride to on their epic journey with a wide smile on her face the entire time, like the kind a psychopath in a comic book would have just before gassing the mayorā€™s speech and getting punched by a freak in a black outfit. ā€œChicken nuggets? And a McFlurry. And a happy meal, but they better put it in an actual box. Iā€™m tired of these clowns putting it in a bag. And an apple pie. And nuggets.ā€ Her order continued until she found it. The perfect song to put on loop until Hermes tried to snatch the aux and potentially take his eyes off the road and cause an accident as Tochi snatched the aux away in an eternal game of snatch and grab.

ā€œHell yeah, letā€™s go to McDonaldā€™s. And I guess break someone out of prison? I donā€™t know you guys bored me and I stopped listening. ONWARD.ā€ And with the press of a button, their rescue anthem began to play to a cackling goddess of salt bouncing in the passenger seat.
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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Akayaofthemoon
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Akayaofthemoon

Member Seen 19 hrs ago


location: Sinful Temptations
interactions: Fenrir | Psyche
mentions: Eros



The wolf was in a good mood. It was rare that he met anyone who could give his thieves back as good as they handed out. Even rarer still for that person to be downright gorgeous. He'd need to ask Tlaz about the bartender next time he saw her. How rude of her to keep such a gem from him.

But he had another goddess on his mind right now. Fenrir hadn't attended the festival and he knew someone else who wouldn't have either. He wanted to check in on her, knowing she often pulled herself away from such events for fear of facing love. So after he'd left the Jade Jaguar he'd headed over to her bakery. Only partly motivated by the rumbling of his stomach. Who could blame him? He and his pack of thieves practically lived there.

The sun was just beginning to set, casting crimson and vermilion tones across the sky. An occasional droplet of rain fell atop his dark mop of hair but it was to be expected...it was Seattle afterall. A smile darted across his face as he approached the bakery, it was always a welcoming sight and he could still catch the lingering scents of baked goods. He sniffed eagerly like the wolf he had once been. With a skip in his step, he approached the door. Resting a hand against the frame, he rapped briskly hoping that Psyche would be there.

The noise pulled her attention to the front, halting her dough making process as she started wiping her floured hands onto her apron while heading out of the kitchen. Distracted by the prepping checklist in her mind for the next day and the after tidying up bit, she hadnā€™t quite looked up yet as she began to speak the normal spiel for those kind of customers that couldnā€™t read a sign. ā€Iā€™m sorry but weā€™reā€¦Fen!!!ā€, but that line of words died when she saw who in fact it was as she glanced up and pure delight lit up on her features along with a dazzling smile. She threw open the door, waving him in quickly, ā€Come in! Come in! I didnā€™t think I would get the pleasure of seeing you today. How are you? You didnā€™t walk in all that rain did you?!? Have you had dinner yet? If not I can make you something but I did save some of those pastries you love so much.ā€

She continued to chat with him while making her way back to the kitchen as she spoke, Psyche knowing she was free to continue her work while also having the best of company. One of those that didnā€™t walk on eggshells around her or give pity looks which she greatly appreciated. He was here usually for good food and sometimes juicy goss to share which she would never pass up.

ā€œI like walking in the rain. It feels nice on my fur--I mean skin.ā€ Fenrir laughed at his slip of the tongue, a bright smile to match her own lighting up his face as he followed her into the kitchen. ā€œI havenā€™t eaten and I would kill for a pastry. No-one else makes them as good as you.ā€ He stopped beside her, happily slinging an arm around her shoulders as he had done with his sisters earlier that day. The wolf pulled her in for a side hug that he suspected she would need, head easily resting atop her own given their differences in height. ā€œDid you know you are an absolute gem Psyche? Because you are. An absolute gem.ā€

ā€Well, a tiger canā€™t change its stripes as they say so I guess that would make sense. Just donā€™t go getting a cold on me cause I wonā€™t be babying youā€¦.okay, maybe I will a little bit but you should be careful. You are a bit lacking in fur nowadays after all.ā€, she replied, glad he was still doing the things he loved without letting anything hold him back. She knew he missed out on a lot and she did want her friend's happiness. He deserved nothing less after what he had gone through. ā€Oh stop, youā€™ll make it go straight to my head. Iā€™m sure there are better chefs and bakers than me.ā€, she chuckled before pulling out the packaged pastries and placing them out. She leaned into the sudden side hug, giving one in return and grateful for it. This time of year was always rough for her, reminding her continuously of the fall and all she lacked. The deep seeded loneliness clawing at her, the same one that Eros had saved her from originally. ā€I donā€™t know about all thatā€¦but, it is nice to hear. Enough about me though, what made you come to surprise visit today?ā€, she asked, pulling away before tears tried to build up at the sweet and kind words of her friend. He always seemed to sense when she needed a pick me up. Psyche wondered if it was left over animal instinct sometimes.

"It took me a long time to get used to having no fur. You guys are so naked." Fenrir frowned down at himself as if once again surprised by his human form. "So weirdā€¦" He shook his head as she pulled away, sensing the ever so subtle change in her disposition. He hated that she had to suffer so and it took a lot of self-control not to throw Eros off the nearest skyrise. "I came here to see you of course! I missed my friend and wellā€¦I knew you wouldn't be at the festival. You never are." His sharp blue eyes looked down at her fondly, full of their usual watchfulness but softer, calmer. "Though something happened." Fenrir paused, desperately not wanting to break the news to her. She was so loving to everyone, he knew it would hurt her deeply. Taking a deep breath, he leant back against the countertop, arms folded across his chest. "Two people, two gods, diedā€¦"

Psyche felt herself tremble, physically sitting herself down at one of the island stools as she wasnā€™t sure she could keep standing with news like that. She looked to Fen, tears spilling over and sliding down her cheeks for the ones lost and those that were grieving, not even knowing who they belonged to. She had been mortal once, the thought that she might have or possibly would die was a lot less frightening as she would imagine this was for everyone else who had never had to really face that fact unless they chose to since the fall. She opened her mouth to ask more when a hideous thought popped into her head, her words choking as fear crawled into her chest. What if? She felt panic, rapidly standing so fast that it knocked the chair over as she lightly gripped the wolfā€™s arm. Psyche summoned all of her courage, steeling herself and actually able to keep some strength to her voice as she spoke, ā€It wasnā€™t him, right!? Please!ā€¦Pleaseā€¦tell me which immortals?ā€

Fenrir took her hand between his own, clasping his fingers tightly around the soft skin. He could feel her trembling. "Sorry, I should've been more specific. He's very much alive as far as I'm aware." His eyes narrowed a little as he spoke of the god of love and passion. If he actually was dead then maybe Psyche would be able to move on with her life and be happy. Wishful thinking perhaps. "It was Hades and Perses kidsā€¦Macaria and Zagreus. I wasn't there so I don't know all the details but I think they suspect foul play." His shoulders shrugged not in a movement of indifference but of uncertainty. "But!" He added quickly, "I'm sure they'll figure it out and we'll all be grand!" The wolf attempted a smile, though even for one so adept at deceit, he had always found it hard to fake his emotions around Psyche.

She cried harder as she felt a flood of relief soothe her frayed nerves and the twist of knots that filled her guts. Persephone and her were not on the best of terms, their start a rocky one at best but she would never wish this on anyone. No mother should have to bury a child let alone two. Her heart went out to her but she wasnā€™t sure how she could help or even if it would be appropriate to do so. Psyche tried to wipe her tears away with her free hand, not ready to let go of Fenā€™s own yet as it was a nice comfort. She looked up at him during his last comment, squeezing his hand before speaking softly. ā€Itā€™s okay to be worried. You know, Iā€™m here for you and we will all try to figure this out but itā€™s still okay to be worried about the ones you loveā€¦.Now, you have told me the bad news, where is my good news?ā€, Psyche asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Good news?" Fenrir shot her a wry grin. He was as keen as Psyche to stop talking about such sorrowful matters, especially if it halted her tears. "Oh I don't knowā€¦" He pulled a face of mock concentration, a hand moving to rake through his thick hair. "Well I did meet someone at the JJ earlier. Had to go and deal with Fruitcakeā€¦he'd been upsetting the wrong people as per usual." He let out a half-laugh though it lacked his usual humour. As a rule Fenrir tried to look after his thieves but that one was nothing but bad news. "But yeah, she was pretty hot." The wolf shrugged as if there was nothing more to say on the matter.

ā€That boy, always getting into such trouble! You really do give him too many chances but hey, meeting someone new is always nice. Did you ask her on a date or is this more a romp in the sheets and move on kinda thing? Cause if it is the dating kind, then you have to bring her here so I can give you two an amazing date nightā€¦.and also secretly judge because you deserve the best!ā€ She chuckled softly with a weak smile, giving her friend a nudge before trying to push away the tears that wouldnā€™t stop falling. She looked at her phone, biting her lip lightly and glancing at Fen before nervously playing with her fingers. ā€Speaking of too many chancesā€¦I canā€™t just turn off how I feel about Eros but um, well, Iā€™ve been chatting with a mortal online. I didnā€™t say anything because I didnā€™t want it to be a thing but Iā€¦he seems really nice and..do you think I should give it a shot? Like online date or maybe asking them on a real date? We have been chatting for months and I thought, maybe this would be a good chance to try to, I donā€™t know, move on?ā€

Fen looked nothing short of perplexed. He hadn't considered any of those things. He hadn't really considered much besides the fact that she was both extremely good-looking and very capable of holding her own. Shaking his head, he couldn't help but let out a bark of a laugh. "Damn Psyche, I have no idea! I don't even know her name." His nose twitched as he sniffed at the air, momentarily distracted by the smell of cooking pastries. Steak and ale if he was correct. "I don't know if I'm really the serious dating type." He continued, pulling his attention back to the goddess beside him. "There's too much human stuff involved and wellā€¦I'm a lowlife thief. Not exactly something most people are looking out for." He let out a small sigh. No, he was too wary to ever get that close to someone, be it mortal or god. He had been burnt one too many times. "But more importantlyā€¦you've been talking to someone for months?! That's great!" He nudged his shoulder against hers. "I hope he's less of an asshole than you-know-who." The words slipped out before he could register them but he didn't regret it.

ā€I would ask how but this is you we are talking about so I wonā€™t question it too hard. Itā€™s a shame thoughā€¦.you are so much more than just a thief and any woman would be lucky to have your heart. Heck, if only I didnā€™t view you like a brother.ā€, Psyche teased, trying to keep it lighthearted but it made her a bit saddened to think her friend only saw himself as this. She wished she knew more about this girl, maybe she could play ā€˜Cupidā€™ for once. She was pulled from her tempting thoughts at the shoulder nudge and blushed, partly at the feeling of being caught as if he could read her mind but also at the positivity of having been chatting with Eli. She suddenly felt her heart drop a bit at Fenā€™s next statement, her smile falling a bit as she played with the countertop pattern. She didnā€™t blame him for the words. It seemed many had choice words about the subject of her lover.

ā€I know how you feel but he really isnā€™t. He was under a spell and I was living in a fantasy. The spell is gone and what I stupidly thought was love was clearly just on my side. I canā€™t blame him for wanting to continue the life he had before me. I justā€¦.it would be nice if he didnā€™t run and just told me the truth but we had so much time together, I get him not wanting to hurt my feelings. Avoiding me is probably easier even if it hurts.ā€, she said gently, forcing a smile though not even realizing that tears had started spilling down her cheeks. She turned away once she noticed, a little too late as she desperately wiped her cheeks as she spoke, ā€Gosh, I need to clean this place better! Keep getting flour in my eyesā€¦Iā€™m hungry! Are you hungry? Iā€™m sure you are! I should check on dinner! That's right, we should definitely do that!ā€

Fenrir simply offered a grunt in reply as she spoke of Eros. There was little he could say, no point really. He did not want to upset her further and he knew Psyche only ever saw the good in people. Nor could he even drag the fool over, it would undoubtedly not go down well. Greeks were mostly assholes. That was the simple conclusion that he had come to a long time ago. "Yeah, I knowā€¦" He muttered, unhappy but willing to drop the subject.

At the mention of food his stomach grumbled once more as if eager to confirm his hunger. It was Psyches fault for making it smell so goddamn good in here. "Ravenous." He grinned, moving to grab some plates and cutlery; he knew where they were kept. Reaching up to open a cupboard, he turned to look back at his friend. "Go on then, tell me all about this mysterious mortal." The wolf raised a questioning eyebrow. "What questions am I meant to ask? Is heā€¦ like totally cute?" He mimicked her gentle voice as he spoke the last three words, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

Psyche laughed as she pulled the steak from the oven, hoping it hadnā€™t been left in too long with the unexpected and welcomed arrival of her guest. She placed the cast iron pan down before uncovering the mixed veggies that had finished earlier than the rest of her planned dinner. ā€You are awful!ā€, she stated, chuckling a bit while undoing the pressure from the pressure cooker, letting the steam rise as she turned to her friend. ā€I donā€™t know what he looks like but his personality is what has me thinking about maybe changing that. He is so honest, which is refreshing to not have to play double meanings and is willing to apologize if he thinks he is making me uncomfortable. I always find myself smiling and laughing when we talk. I feel giddy when I actually receive messages from him, wondering what the next topic we speak of will be. We have touched a bit on talking about Eros and he seems to take your side with the whole him being an idiot thing. I donā€™t know, there is just something about him that has me wondering, curious, like when I first didnā€™t know who Eros was or even looked like but that charming energy that drew me in. It feels almost the same so I figured, maybe this means Iā€™m ready to move on. He is mortal so itā€™s a baby step but a step is better than standing still.ā€

That said, she turned back around to pop the top off the pressure cooker, adding in a few last minute ingredients with a stir before taking the plates Fen had placed out for them, cutting the large steak in half and splitting it between them, scooping out the buttered parmesan mixed veggies, and also placing a good portion of garlic rosemary mashed potatoes from the cooker. She placed their meals down, working on drinks for the two of them as she spoke up once more. ā€I donā€™t know, do I sound crazy? Am I wrong for not wanting to feel lonely anymore? Have I not waited long enough?ā€. She sat down after placing their drinks down, looking to Fen for advice on this important matter. He was her best friend in her opinion and she trusted his advice.

Fen listened as she spoke, sitting down eagerly in front of the food but waiting until his friend accompanied him before he started. It had been Psyche who had taught him such human manners and he tried to keep to themā€¦at least around her. "You never sound crazy." He grinned, tearing his gaze away from the steak. "Maybe it's the human in you but you're the most sane god I've ever met." He paused, considering what she had said before. "Look, I say go for it. Justā€¦don't forget that they're mortal. There's only so long you can pretend that you have a really really good dermatologist." Fenrir let out a laugh; it was the eternal dilemma of the gods. How long could you befriend a mortal before they questioned your pretty damn obvious lack of aging? Not very long in his experience. "But I get it, I really do. I've spent a lot of time alone and it's rough. I wouldn't wish it on anyone." He leaned back in his chair, hands running through his hair and leaving it a wild mess. "Bring him round to my club sometime. There'll only be like aā€¦50% chance of him getting hurt."

ā€Thanks, Fen. Iā€™ll try to remember your advice. I donā€™t want to cause any suspicion after all or cause anyone one else trouble by being found out but I feel much better about taking a chance now. Aaannddd, if the initial meeting goes well, I definitely make sure we visit the club so I can introduce him., Psyche smiled and pulled out her phone, not wanting to chicken out later and working on the confidence she was currently feeling. She quickly shot a text message, knowing it probably wouldnā€™t be seen right away at this hour but at least the invite for coffee or tea was out of the way. ā€Well, no turning back nowā€¦the worst that can happen is that he says no, right? Then we can continue as is.ā€

A vigorous nod of his head was all the god could offer in reply, his mouth too full of buttery mashed potato to speak. He closed his eyes for a moment, cast into bliss by the taste and scent of the food. Finally, after swallowing he could talk once more. "He's not going to say no. And he's a fool if he does." He speared a small piece of steak onto his fork. "But more importantly, did you put crack into this food or something?! It's fucking amazing!"He smiled, happily content now he was eating. The saying ravenous as a wolf still applied even when one was no longer a wolf. "I need the recipe! Well Jorm does. She's the better of the three of us."

ā€If you say so.ā€, she smiled, starting on her own meal which she instantly almost ended up choking on in laughter at his enthusiasm over her cooking, taking a moment to cover her mouth and recover. ā€Iā€™m so glad you like it! Iā€™ll be happy to send the recipe Jormā€™s way so she can spoil you with it more often though I am sure you could manage this one on your own if you wanted.ā€
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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Legion02
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Legion02

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š¹š’¶š“‚š’¾š“š“Ž š’®š“†š“Šš’¶š’·š’·š“š‘’š“ˆ
š¹š’¶š“‚š’¾š“š“Ž š’®š“†š“Šš’¶š’·š’·š“š‘’š“ˆ

location: The Olympic Club
interactions: Ares and the Cult
mentions: Tlaz, Deimos, Anteros, Phobos, Isabel, Macaria, Zagreus, Pothos, Hati, Thor, Sekhmet




The sun was rising.

The Olympus Club was empty. Police tap sealed it. Ares knew that the techs had already left the place. Athena wouldā€™ve used her clout to get every bit of forensic evidence as quickly as possible. That was more than a murder after all. It was family.

Ares crossed the police tape without a second thought. The low heel of his foot clocked on the tiled floor as he made his way slowly through the building. There had to be a thing that he missed. A splatter of blood, a sign, a lingering clue. Deicide was committed here. That could not have been done without a trail.

Just like in the morning he pushed through the two doors leading to the main hall. He remembered where everyone was sitting. Hati, Thor, Sekhmet. They were innocent of the deed for sure. Yet there was growing proof of a conspiracy. Were they really all innocent?

It wasnā€™t logic that made him walk towards the gardens though. It was the lingering memory of a smell. His feet carried him outside to the exact place where he spoke with Tlaz for the first time in far too long. That conversation had been far too short. A part of him, a very familiar part, did not want to be in the gardens right then. He wanted to be with Tlaz. Even if he knew he had so many wrongs to right first. An older Ares wouldā€™ve selfishly chased her. He could not be that man again. Duty had to come first. But after tonight he would return to her and tell her everything. That much she deserved at least.

With Tlaz still on his mind, he made his way back inside.

This time, he wasnā€™t alone. Just through the door, in what had been an empty chair only minutes ago, a man was seated, waiting for the god of war. His legs were crossed, his suit was pressed, and one of his lapels was missing. Calmly, with a voice warm as the flames he stoked, he said, ā€œBrother. Itā€™s been sometime.ā€ Finally, Hephaestus had revealed himself. ā€œI heard you were looking for me. Now, I am found.ā€

Something primal rose up from Ares. A heat he was all too familiar with. He felt that rage pushing to yell and shout, to break something and threaten Hephaestus until the Smithgod gave up his daughter.

Instead, he took a calming breath.

This would start as a war of wits and words. That always fell under Athenaā€™s purview. Fell. Perhaps mortality could free them from the cages they lived in as gods. Ares had played with that idea some two decades now. The god of war kept his distance though. It was a trap, obviously.

ā€œYou have spun yourself a dangerous and extraordinarily messy web, brother.ā€ Aresā€™ hand went to his pocket. He pressed a tiny button swimming freely there, and then pulled out a carton of cigarettes. ā€œSo what happens now? Where are your specters hidden?ā€ What are you hoping to achieve? Aresā€™ eyes were trained on the forge-god, searching for anything. Any tell that might give away a glimpse of reason behind the madness he plunged the Heavens into.

Hephaestus could only chuckle wearily before pushing himself to his feet, clasping heat worn hands together, ā€œAll in due time brother. They have been so eager to meet with you. I thought it best we have our chat first,ā€ there was a way about him as he walked forwards that seemed agile, almost serpentine. A presence about him that reeked of a higher divinity. That wayward smile of his only stretching further across his face, ā€œFamily issues must be discussed after all.ā€

Ares returned a forced smile. ā€œFamily? You want to talk about family?ā€ There was an air of arrogance about Hephaestus. It stank. Everything stank right then. ā€œTell me, what role did you play in the tragedy of Macaria and Zagreus?ā€ As he spoke, Aresā€™ hand lowered until it touched the handle of his pistol. It wouldnā€™t kill Hepheastus. It would at most slow him down. The lead wasnā€™t meant for him though. The Forge-God could never stand against Ares on his own.

ā€œDonā€™t get all sanctimonious on me now, Ares,ā€ Hephaestus said, slowly circling his brother. ā€œYou are, after all, the same brother who stole my wife away. Tell me, what has my family ever done for me?ā€ The smith cocked his head. Despite his harsh words, the mask of calm he wore did not slip. ā€œThis plan was set in motion long ago. Knowing you, brother, you will kick and scream and rage against the infernal machine, like the petulant child mother raised you to be. You have not changed. You storm in here like you know something, but you are just a toddler, throwing a tantrum because he has lost a game.ā€ Hephaestus looked at his brother and chuckled. It was clear that he felt no fear, standing across from the god of war. ā€œWhat a wonder, it is, that she chose you.ā€

The war godā€™s expression darkened. It wasnā€™t the accusations or the insults that did this. In fact, that told Ares that his brother hadnā€™t been looking too closely at him. Ares had changed. Perhaps not enough to be worthy of Tlaz just yet, but he knew he had changed in the last three decades. What darkened him was something else. ā€œVisiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children?ā€ He said, quoting the bible. ā€œIs that why you took Pothos?ā€ As he said the words he felt that ravenous beast that was his rage claw and trash at its cage.

ā€œOh no, dear brother, thatā€™s not what is happening here at all. Your iniquity will be paid back unto you and you alone.ā€ The brothersā€™ eyes met and Hephaestusā€™ crooked grin only grew. ā€œYou want to kill me right now, donā€™t you? You think youā€™ve changed, but deep down, the monster you were will always linger. It will always want back out. You are dangerous, a rabid dog that harms everything that comes near.ā€ The dark eyes of the smith seemed to glow, lit with the fires of hate. His voice had grown sharper, crueler. Hephaestus had waited centuries to say these words.

ā€œAnd you seem almost desperate to keep it that way.ā€ Something snapped within Ares. The first chain broke. ā€œYet youā€™re wrong already. I donā€™t want to be here!ā€ He wanted to be holding the woman he loved. ā€œAnd I donā€™t want to kill you, my own brother!ā€ He wanted to sit at a table, feasting with the children he was loving more every day now. Right now though, he just wanted Hephaestus to confess to his sins. Ares was no judge. There were other divines more suited for that.

ā€œBut you need me as you remember me. So you can stay what you think you are: the victim. The helpless sod. So whatever you do next is justified.ā€ Ares pulled the gun from his pocket but kept it down, pointing at the ground. His finger hovered over the trigger guard. ā€œSo make your move.ā€ The gun was a distraction. He had his other hand in his pocket still, holding his phone.

ā€œWrong again. Though what can be expected from a brute such as yourself.ā€ Hephaestus eyed the gun, and turned his back to Ares in spite of it, calling out into the shadows of the Olympic Club, ā€œCome get your toy, before he makes an even bigger mess of my face.ā€

Hephaestusā€™ call was answered with a low grunt, the rustle of movement, and the sound of footsteps. Two pairs belonging to two figures, moving closer to the pair until they were standing behind Hephaestus. The first, presumably the one behind the grunt, was a hulking figure, bigger than both brothers, and wrapped in muscle. His sneer was cruel, his eyes crueler, and his hair was streaked with grey. He looked cleaner than the last time heā€™d met Ares, but the strength he walked with was unmistakable. This was the titan who had held the sky; this was the great general, Atlas.

On Hephaestusā€™ other side, a slender woman slithered into place. She carried herself with the knowledge that she was quite beautiful, and with the poise of one who knows danger. Dark hair fell from her head in silken tendrils, and she eyed Ares with a predatorā€™s intent. ā€œYou talk too much, Hephaestus,ā€ the woman said.

ā€œI was growing bored, listening to you children bicker,ā€ Atlas said, eyeing Aresā€™ gun with vague, unenthused, interest. This was busywork for him.

Hephaestus scowled. ā€œTake him, Atlas. Iā€™m sure he will give you some entertainment.ā€

šššš§š ! šššš§š !


Two bullets left Aresā€™ gun. They were aimed at Atlasā€™ legs. Aresā€™ heart started sprinting. He squeezed the trigger again. Two more times. His blood started to boil. Bullets would at most slow a god down. More bullets flew out. Ares stopped aiming after the fifth. Fifteen cases fell to the ground. Then Aresā€™ tossed his empty pistol and pulled the knife on his belt.

Atlas flinched from the impact but otherwise returned to a standing position as if only accosted by a fly. An annoying, stinging fly. Rolling his shoulders back he cocked his head to the side and with a wide manic grin he charged towards the god of war.

The ensuing fight erupted. Atlas was unstoppable. Ares was relentless. Both took more blows than they dodged. The god had learned to be slippery in fights. He snuck around the titan again and again. When he took a hit, it mattered little. His blood burned. It wouldnā€™t allow him to stop. The furniture in the club shattered during the fight. Splinters of wood and broken pieces of plastic were thrown around the floor. Neither looked like they were about to give up.

Atlas kept up the pressure. Glass shattered and bloody wounds were drawn. Ares landed his own hits but the titan refused to yield any ground.

When the titan had thrown the god against the wall so hard it cracked a little, Ares considered running. He could make it out of the club probably. Though it was risky. Atlas was getting closer again. The god of war weighed his options.

Old him wouldā€™ve ran. He had done so before. Despite being the patron god of soldiers, he had never been one for self-sacrifice. When it came down to it he was a craven. His eyes met Atlas. The titan wouldnā€™t stop. Thatā€™s all he could read from him. If he ran now, the titan wouldnā€™t stop chasing him. Tlaz, Deimos, Anteros, none of them would be safe. He had to buy them and the rest of his family time.

So he rose up again. His ribs hurt. They were broken for sure and pushing into his lung. Forcing him to breathe ragged breaths through the pain. Most of his face was swollen as burning blood ran over his numbed skin. His left arm couldnā€™t move anymore. The bone was probably broken in a few places. It was a miracle he could stand even. Yet he still raised one fist.

Rolling her eyes the woman muttered under her breath for Atlas to, ā€œHurry up and finish the job,ā€ it really was taking too long for her liking. But this was Atlas. He liked to play with his prey before dominating them. An eternity spent alone would do that to someone with divinity.

Atlas shrugged and stepped forward. He swung, Ares blocked. He swung with his other hand. Ares took the hit straight on his jaw. His mortal body was sundered. It couldnā€™t hold together, even if his spirit wasnā€™t broken yet. Time flowed slowly as he dropped. Darkness encroached from the edges of his sight.

And as he fell he felt regret. He left Tlaz alone again. Isabel wouldnā€™t be kind to her. Especially not now. He had failed her too. Then there was Deimos and Phobos. He wouldnā€™t see his daughterā€™s smile or his son embrace his love. And what would Anteros do other than despair?

Those were his last thoughts before the darkness took him.

The three other beings in the club stood over the body of the God of War. ā€Whatā€™s there to do with him next?ā€ she asked, eyes flicking up towards the God of the forge. If he didnā€™t know any better he would have believed her eyes to glow with a golden sheen with pupils like slits, watching him. Always watching.

Before Hephaestus could respond however, Atlas kicked at Aresā€™ arm just to be on the safe side before bending down to hoist him over his shoulder, ā€œHe is needed elsewhere. Come, we mustnā€™t keep him waiting.ā€
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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by smarty0114
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smarty0114 Human

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Yearning
Yearning

location: In The Car | Freyjaā€™s House
a @Legion02 @Fabricant451 & @smarty0114 collab



Hel pushed down the metal pedal with her heel as deep as she could. The engine in front of her was far beyond roaring and now well into letting out a dreadful wailing sound telling the goddess she was pushing limits she really shouldnā€™t. Behind her more than a few cars honked their horns as she wove through them. She watched them in her back mirror like specs of dust in the light of their headlights. Thatā€™s all they were right now for her. She didnā€™t mean them any malice but there were bigger things in life right now.

She took the off ramp her GPS told her to take and was forced by the roads to slow down. It didnā€™t do her much good. Now that the crazy race through the highway was over she was forced to think. What would she say? What wouldnā€™t she say? Would he even recognize her still? And what then? Would she embrace him? Kiss him!? No, no never that last one. He was Aesir.

She took a turn right and then left. She couldnā€™t kiss him, of course. What else was she supposed to do though? What would be her duty now? Maybe she should take him home? Her GPS gave her a small ping to tell her she arrived at the right house. Hel parked her car on the driveway and stepped out. He would need a bath right? And probably a refresher on everything that happened too? Some clothes? She could provide for him. But then what? Did she keep him to herself, as her secret? What would her siblings say? What would the Aesir say? What would he say?

All those questions stopped as she rounded the corner and reached the backyard.

Baldr was seated on a leather couch, straight-backed and shaking. He was still naked, though his body had been splattered with blood. The couple who had owned this house lay on the floor in front of him, broken and bloody. He had not wanted to hurt them, or at least, he wanted to believe as much. He had hurt them though, despite his protests. The fogginess that had gripped his brain so tightly was lifting now, but it did not leave any answers. Rather, he only felt like his confusion had grown.

He glanced to his left, out the sliding glass door into the backyard, and he saw her. Her. She was unchanged, as beautiful as the day heā€™d last seen her. He stood with a start, rushing to the glass door. He blinked, fearful that she was just an apparition, waiting to disappear the moment his eyes left her form, but she did not. She was real, and she was here.

His hand reached up and found the glass and then he was punching through it, ignoring the shards that cut into his mortal flesh. The pain was unimportant in the presence of the most graceful guide of the graceless. He had searched for her after the Fall, and he had searched for her in his dreams, and he had not found her until today. As his feet touched the moist grass, he fell to his knees before her. Words he had not known before today flooded his mind, strange and alien sounds. ā€œYou found me,ā€ he said, his voice thick with emotion and pain. He did not know how heā€™d known those words, or even what language he was speaking. Only that she was here, and the nightmare was ending.

ā€œAlways.ā€ Hel said as tears welled up in her eyes. She fell on her knees before him as well. There were no walls so high that they could stop her emotions from flooding her in this moment. After far too long they were together again. A droplet traveled over her cheek. The first of many to come. With one hand she cupped his cheek. ā€œI missed you.ā€

And finally she could not hold herself back. She embraced Baldr. She could feel his warmth on her skin. It melted the ice in her veins and around her heart. A sob went through her. Hel tightened the embrace as if she was afraid that sheā€™d lose him again. ā€œI missed you.ā€ Emotions were overwhelming her now, completely. The goddess of the graceless dead had never felt anything like this for two millennia.

His head fell forward, pressing their foreheads together, and for the first time since his slumber had ended, he felt safe. He breathed in the scent of her and felt it soothe his body, felt his muscles relax as her hand came upon his face. ā€œIā€™ve missed you as well,ā€ he said, his voice cracking as tears threatened to drown out his words. He met her gaze, bringing his hands to herā€™s so that their connection would remain. For a moment, he could not find the words. They were lost behind the lingering fog of confusion, and the pull of those beautiful eyes. ā€œWhat is this place, Hel? What realm have I awoken in?ā€ he finally asked, certain that she would not lead him astray.

ā€œMidgard.ā€ Hel answered, slowly but surely she got up, guiding him to stand as well. She never let go of his hands though. The glass in one of his hands was stinging her hand as well now but she never let go. ā€œBut things areā€¦ different. We are weaker and.. there are others.ā€

A siren echoed far away. Hel looked up like a deer suddenly looking for a predator. It was the sire of the firefighters. Still, the goddess knew well enough the problems that could arise if the police would come. Knowing strong, unharmable Baldr it would not end well for them. ā€œWe must go. I know a place.ā€ That was a lie. She didnā€™t have a clue where to take Baldr. Still, she tugged him gently along to her car. Where she held a blanket to at least cover his modesty. ā€œWeā€™ll be safe there.ā€ Hel kept insisting with her little lies. The lies came easy to her. She had used those little lies before, in Helheim.

Baldr marveled at the chariot Hel had placed him in. The mortals had been even busier than he thought. This was certainly not the Midgard he had known. He jolted as Hel started the car, startled by the rumblings of the engine, but he calmed when he realized Hel felt no fear. He trusted her, more than he could ever put into words. ā€œYou said there wereā€¦ others. What did you mean by that?ā€ he asked, gripping the handle above him as the car lurched forward.

ā€œThor and Odin are here too.ā€ Hel answered as she put her car into gear and drove away. Without her lights on for a little while. Then once on the main road she drove exactly as any other car would. Perhaps a bit more carefully but still, she made a real effort to drive as normal as possible. ā€œHeimdal is here as well, in Midgard. As is Freyja.ā€ Of course, she summed up the Aesir and Vanir first. They were his family and they would be delighted to know that their Most Beloved finally returned from Helheim.

Something that only made her mind swirl more as she was driving. Keeping Baldr was selfish. She realized that now. As much as she hated them, his family deserved to know he was alive. They would be able to care for him better than her. After all, Freyja asked everything in existence for his return. She couldnā€™t give that much love to Baldr, she never had that much to give to begin with really. In English she bid her GPS to lead her to Freyjaā€™s address. Then she dictated a quick text message heralding Baldrā€™s arrival in half an hour to the Norse goddess of love, war and magic. Her eyes she kept glued on the road. It would make the farewell easier. ā€œIā€™m happy youā€™re here though.ā€ She did say. Her voice quivered a little bit.

The Most Beloved nodded at Helā€™s words, unmoved by mentions of his family. It had been ages since he had last seen them. Civilizations had risen and fallen and risen again, entire bloodlines had been wiped from the earth, and he had spent the vast majority of it asleep, and if not asleep, then imprisoned. The family he knewā€¦ Well, he suspected that he did not know them anymore. Still, he saw nowhere else to turn, not in this world of iron carts and talking glass.

ā€œI-thank you. For finding me. I would not have blamed you if youā€™d forgotten me in my absence. It seems Iā€™ve been asleep forā€¦some time.ā€ Baldr watched Hel watch the road, grateful for this moment. If this all turned out to be one last dream before his final slumber, he would not mind. At least he wouldā€™ve seen her, one last time.

ā€œI could never forget you.ā€ The words escaped Helā€™s lips before she knew it. It was the truth, the absolute truth. For two thousand years, every day, she did find herself thinking of Baldr in some way or another. Now he was here beside her. There was something in her heart telling her to open up. To tell him she loved him, even now. Especially now, after Ragnarok mustā€™ve already passed. She wanted to tell him that she wanted to feel his heat on her skin.

Those thoughts exhilarated her. Because of that though, she feared them now more than ever. Back in Helheim she felt the same. For the rest of the car ride, Hel closed herself off. She stopped talking, though answered any questions he might have. She became cold. This way - so she thought - was better. Safer. No one would get hurt this way. No one would cry this way.

Eventually, after a car ride that felt like it lasted a century, she reached Freyjaā€™s house.

He turned to her with eyes that betrayed an ancient innocence. He trusted her, more than he trusted anyone. ā€œWhere are we?ā€ he asked, glancing out the window at the unfamiliar home. He knew very little about this strange new Midgard, but he knew, at least, that he did not wish to lose Hel once more.

Little lies, Hel. The goddess thought to herself as she looked in Baldrā€™s eyes. Little lies for the greater good. For duty. Everything for duty.

ā€œSomewhere you could make a home here in Midgard. Trust me.ā€ Hel said with a comforting smile. She hid away her own aching heart behind that smile. It was for the better. Hel got out of the car. He would be at home here, amongst his family. His brothers would embrace him. His mother would kiss his cheeks. He would drink, feast, and smile and laugh here. It was for the better. She kept telling herself that as she rounded the car and opened Baldrā€™s car door to let him out.

Baldr stepped out, still wrapped in the blanket Hel had given him. ā€œYou will stay, though?ā€ he said, his voice pitching into a question. He reached for her hand and gently stroked her slender fingers, desperate to hold onto them until the world split apart once more.

For just a few seconds they just walked in silence. ā€œIā€™m afraid not.ā€ Hel answered and she kept walking. She kept herself tightly in control. No, she would not allow her voice to break or her lip to quiver. This is what she had to do.

From the wide picture window on the second floor of her home, Freyja, half finished glass of red cradled between her fingers, watched as the car rolled to a stop outside though she turned away before the doors opened. Sixty minutes ago she had just gotten home after a difficult birth and wanted nothing more than to enjoy a warm bath, a bottle of wine, and an episode of a far too long running medical soap opera that was so wildly inaccurate she couldnā€™t help but to love every tawdry minute. Thirty minutes ago she was onto her third glass and the bath water was steaming and the only thing separating the water from her body was a short robe that promptly introduced itself to the floor. Twenty-five minutes ago her phone pierced the relaxing silence of water and stress fading away with a shrill trilling ringtone. How had she forgotten to turn the damn thing off? It was like being on call, a constant string of annoyances only this time there wasnā€™t an emergency that warranted her attention.

Or so she thought.

When she read the message her first instinct was that it was Helā€™s idea of a sick joke but that couldnā€™t be possible; in the eternity that Freyja had known Hel she couldnā€™t recall the last time Hel said anything remotely funny. It had to be true. Her son. After all this time. Not a day had gone by that Freyja hadnā€™t missed him; how could she not with howā€¦protective she had been with him back when she had magic at her command. But of course she knew he had to be fineā€¦she had willed it soā€¦all except that damn mistletoeā€¦but after so long she had every reason to believe that the death wasā€¦permanent. How naive.

Fitting for one of Washington Stateā€™s ā€˜most eligible bachelorettesā€™, head OBGYN and fertility medicine specialist at the prestigious Hope Valley Medical Center, and one of the ā€˜medical expertsā€™ on multiple seasons of the now canceled reality show ā€˜Couples Counselingā€™ and its much higher rated spin-off ā€˜Iā€™m A Celebrity, My Relationship Is Fine!ā€™, Katherine Nilssonā€™s home was a modest contemporary house that was far too big for the single person who lived inside. But Freyja had enjoyed the finer points of owning a home. Such as being able to enjoy a bath. Until that message. And the car arriving.
Hel and Baldr didnā€™t even have to ring the doorbell or knock on the front door. The lights on the first floor turned on as Freyja descended the stairs, signaling that, yes, someone was home, and that someone opened the front door, having set the wine glass on an endtable en route, and though every emotion welled up inside of her all at once as her eyes laid sight on Baldrā€¦Freyja didnā€™t cry. All those years ago when the Fall had just happened, Freyja spent years crying every tear out of her body. Even now, when every part of her from brain to heart was telling her to weepā€¦she couldnā€™t. She could only blink, mouth open, breathing heavy, expression somewhere between relief, fear, shock, and warmth. What could she say? What could she do?

ā€œYouā€™reā€¦naked.ā€

In a similar state of shock, Baldr looked down at himself, blushing. ā€œIt seems I am. Hel was not quite prepared for my return,ā€ he said, softly. There was a wariness to his words, a tension to this reunion. The centuries theyā€™d lost seemed to stretch out between them, a wall that kept him from running into his motherā€™s arms. The sight of her conjured visions of a happier time, long before the Aesir had known tragedy, and yet what stuck was all the time they had missed. He knew how much he had changed in the wake of his death; who then, was the woman who stood before him? His mother, or someone else entirely? It appeared that he would be forced to find out.
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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Fabricant451
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Fabricant451 Queen of Hearts

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姦通




At six o'clock in the morning, Akio Murata resists the urge to put a belt around his neck and hang himself from the ceiling fan in the living room as he wakes up and sees the woman he married snoring like the bloated bulldog bitch she looked like these days. Work starts in three hours but he needs to leave in two; if he woke up any later he would have to make breakfast himself and if that was the case why did he even get married? At least in his bachelor days he could sleep a little later before working. At six-oh-five, Akio Murata looks at himself in the standing mirror in the corner of the bedroom, one hand running over the bald patch that no cover-up would be able to fix and another hand squeezing the paunch that used to be his flat stomach. These days he had to go up a shirt size, which was more expensive, or else run the risk of a button coming undone underneath the snug suit jacket. Ten years ago he could have said the secretary at the front of the office building looked beautiful and be met with a giggle; now he would be met with a firing and a harassment lawsuit and this chunk of flab was responsible.

At six thirty in the morning, Akio Murata finishes into a kleenex and throws it into the garbage bin. He misses and has to pick it up again to make sure it lands properly. When he asked his daughter how to get videos on his phone, the look she gave him was infuriating. The freeloading bitch had the gall to roll her eyes before reluctantly helping? He was her father, dammit, and he demanded respect. When she walked him through it, once, barely, he bowed and thanked her and went to kiss her on the forehead until she recoiled. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Akio Murata, a married man, had to masturbate to models in bikinis and bras on a phone screen while his wife slept. It wasn't fair that Akio Murata, a working man, had to deal with a daughter who thought so little of him that she couldn't even look up from her phone to talk to him over breakfast. It wasn't fair that Akio Murata provided a house and the ungrateful bitches had the nerve to ask for more.

At six fifty in the morning Akio Murata reads the paper while the morning news plays on the television at a volume just loud enough to wake up his wife and daughter. There was a time when he wasn't so rude about it, but if they didn't like it they could move out. He wasn't really paying attention to the news, the anchor was some old fogey talking about another body found behind a soapland - the sixth one in three months - which was not a story Akio Murata cared about. It wasn't until the co-anchor, a flawlessly attractive woman no older than twenty three - two years until she was past her prime - that Akio Murata actually paid attention. Her hair was so smooth looking, her lips so soft with off-pink lipstick, and her blouse was tight enough that Akio Murata could tell her breasts were suffocating. He wasn't really listening to what news story she was rattling about - something about how all the victims had been men or something - but he was focusing intently on her all the same. If it was ten years ago...if he was ten years younger...

"Gross."

It's seven fifteen and Akio Murata's daughter, Akira, shakes her head in disgust. Her father had been staring, unblinking, at the morning news woman like a fat pig staring at the slop trough. At seven in the morning, Akira Murata could no longer pretend to be asleep with the loud sounds of the morning news playing, but it wasn't until there was a knock at her door that she went through the motions. From the otherside of the door, her mother asked what she wanted for breakfast to which Akira could only say tamagoyaki and miso, the same as she said every morning. By seven ten, Akira had caught up with her messages with her friends and had dressed for school but not before catching up on two new chapters of her favorite manga. It had been an off week so Akira's plan of not reading the last week's chapter until the off week ended meant she would have twice as much to read. It was worth it, in her mind, even if she had to tune out when her friends wanted to talk about what Zoro had done this week.

At seven thirteen Akira had to prepare herself for leaving her room, sighing in front of the door before looking at herself in the standing mirror. She had never been more thankful to have her mother's looks. Her father was balding, getting fatter by the day, and had a tendency to sweat - or spit - when he talked, and when he did talk he stuttered and stammered like a fat bullied victim. How a man like him had a wife was beyond Akira. It was hard to believe that someone like her father could ever have been attractive in any way. Once she had asked her mom what she saw in her husband and her mother still had no answer. It had to be money. But the money her father did have always seemed to go into what he wanted, which was why in the street was parked a new Acura that only he could drive. Akira's birthday was four days ago and all she got was a cake - purchased by her mom - and a phone strap from her friends. She asked her father if she could have money to see a movie - not even mentioning it was her birthday - and he complained so much that she eventually had to ask a friend with the promise of paying her back. And yet, they had a brand new Acura sitting outside their house.

At seven fifteen, Akira had been watching her father's perverse news watching for two minutes, and if she didn't say something he probably would have been late for work. Without another word to the tomato faced mess that was her father, Akira sat at the table and helped herself to rice and bread.

At seven twenty, Akio Murata was watching his daughter eat her rolled egg, her plump lips with faint lipstick, her jaw demurely eating the food, dainty fingers covering her chewing mouth before they flipped through her phone. Her skirt was short. Akio Murata made note of his daughter's uniform skirt. It was short enough that he could see her thighs. He needed to say something, he didn't want his daughter to be a whore. Those friends she hung around with were a bad influence. At seven twenty five his daughter had finished her breakfast and was talking with her mother, the cow, in hushed whispers. Twice over the course of their conversation, his daughter glanced over her shoulder and for a brief moment her eyes met Akio Murata's, and both times she snapped her head back so fast it was a shock her head didn't go flinging off her shoulders. With his daughter standing up, Akio Murata could see the back of her legs. Her thighs were a bit plump, but healthily. She wasn't as slender and slim as the news woman but...she definitely had his good genes. If only she wasn't wasting them...

"Don't you have work?"

It's seven thirty three and Wakako Murata has her back turned to her husband as she washes dishes. It's a wonder her husband even found time to eat with how his mouth hung open anytime a woman appeared on television. Normally, Wakako wouldn't say anything, but this isn't the first time she had noticed her husband leering at their daughter, and what kind of mother would she be if she didn't say something?

At six o'clock in the morning, Wakako Murata had been pretending to be asleep for an hour now, having been woken up, as she often was, by the pig-like snoring of her husband. Hearing that now, she couldn't remember why she had married him in the first place. She was older than he was, by seven years, and subconsciously she knew the only reason she married him was because a younger man had complimented her. It wasn't for love. It wasn't for money. It had been because she was lonely and, as her husband had put it shortly after their honeymoon, she was 'past her prime'. As if she was spoiled milk or rotten meat. She should've said something then. But by that point it had been too late. She had a ring on her finger and a hole in her heart.

At six twenty in the morning, Wakako has to keep from sniffling as she cries listening to her husband pleasure himself to videos of gravure models that look barely older than their daughter. It wasn't as if she was attracted to him - she wondered if she ever truly was - but any time she worked herself into a particular mood, it was always her husband who said no, and it was increasingly clear because he thought he was capable of younger women.

At six forty-five in the morning, Wakako looks in the same mirror her husband had earlier and she wonders if the wrinkles on her face are from stress. There's hardly any fat on her body, and her daughter even says how pretty she is. So why, then, does she feel unattractive? Why, then, does her husband seem to recoil at the sight of her when he looked like a blobfish on a good day. Why did she not have the courage to do the right thing for herself and her daughter? As she dressed herself, she knew the answer to that question at least. It was the same reason why the only time they had been intimate was when her husband brought home that fucking Acura. Money.

At seven-oh-two, Wakako was waking up her daughter though she knew Akira was already awake. On their last trip to the market the past Sunday they had a wonderful time. They even got crepes. Akira explained she was doing well in school and was working up the courage to put a love letter in a classmate's shoe locker. Wakako offered to help write the letter but Akira shook her head as she ate another bite of crepe and explained that a love letter should be written by the person themselves. Wakako couldn't disagree. That Sunday seemed so long ago, but the happiest memories always felt like forever.

At seven eighteen, Wakako set two plates down but only one of them was eaten. Her husband was more interested in leering than eating and Akira did her best to eat quickly. Akira always found reasons to leave for school early and Wakako couldn't blame her. She wouldn't want to be around her father for that long either. At seven forty five, it is just Wakako and her husband in the house. At seven fifty, her husband finally leaves to go to work. At eight in the morning, Wakako has already cried three times.

At eight thirty in the morning, Akio Murata notices a woman in the lane next to him, her hair blowing in the wind as she weaves through traffic on her motorcycle. His eyes are taken off the road and onto the way her ass straddles the seat; her pants are black and even with the distance between car and bike, he can tell it's soft and that he would pay anything to touch it. At eight thirty two in the morning, Akio Murata runs a red light and snaps back to attention as a car blares its horn as he almost had an accident. But that doesn't matter, because the woman on the motorcycle looks back at the sound of the commotion behind her, and as her eyes met Akio Murata's he could swear she smiled. He did too.

"You're so sweet, you know that?" It is nine in the morning and Akio Murata is late for work but he couldn't care less, because sipping an iced coffee with extra whip in front of him is the woman from the motorcycle. He saw her pull into a coffee shop parking lot and five minutes later he was behind her in line - separated by two people. Her name, as he overheard her give to the frumpy barista, was Suki, which he thought was fitting because he was absolutely in love with her. It was when he ordered his drink, a difficult task given his unfamiliarity with the menu, that Suki turned her head, gave that smile that was now emblazoned in his mind, and helped him order. In his sudden attack of love, he had forgotten how to speak a simple coffee order.

And now they were drinking coffee. At nine-o-five in the morning.

"You really didn't have to pay for my coffee." Suki sipped her drink through a straw and Akio Murata licked his lips as he watched the liquid slide up the straw into Suki's mouth.

"The...least I..." Akio Murata trailed off and Suki giggled. God, was there a better sound than that giggle?

"Was that a TLX?" She knew about cars too? Akio Murata was in love at nine fifteen in the morning. "You don't talk much do you? It's cute. You're cute. Is that a ring on your finger. You're married?"

"Divorced." Akio Murata didn't stutter this time.

"And you still wear the ring? You don't have to lie to me, Akio." Akio Murata gulped as Suki said his first name. Were they at that stage already? Was the heat on high in this place? Was he sweating? Could she tell? Could she tell that beneath the table his pants had tightened? Could she tell that he had already memorized the smooth, beautiful face in front of him? Could she tell that he had already seen she wasn't wearing a bra when she bent over to pick up a dropped phone and he could see down her top?

"I...we don't..." Akio Murata was silenced by Suki putting her index finger in front of his lips. It was nine ten in the morning and Akio Murata took Suki's finger into his mouth. He wasn't thinking of where he was, his marital status, or anything other than what his body wanted him to do - and right now his body was saying to swirl his tongue down that finger - something that even Suki seemed to encourage with how she subtly slid her finger in and out, the tip of her finger rubbing just so slightly on the inside of his cheek before popping out of his mouth while his lips smacked.

"Easy, now." Suki was smiling like only a woman could. Eyebrows uniquely narrowed, lips curled upwards, eyes peering into the soul. It was a smile as sensual as it was subtle, and Akio Murata was panting like a puppy dog. It took him a minute to realize that he was panting because pressed between his legs was the shoe-less, sock wearing foot of Suki. Toes curled, heel gently rubbing, smile on her face lingering. "Does your wife do-"

"No." Akio Murata closed his eyes. "No..."

Suki continued the grind her foot in so skilled a way that there was no way it was her first time doing something like this. Her big toe traveled up and just as quickly as it started, it ended with Suki pulling her foot back. "Do you want to show me your car?"

It is nine forty-five in the morning and Akio Murata has decided to deal with the consequences of being late for work, because with Suki in the passenger seat there were more important things to focus on than his job. Besides, at this rate Akio Murata was going to get a different kind of job this morning. "This is a really nice car. I'd love to go for a ride sometime. Well, another one." Suki ran her hand over the dashboard and her fingers brushed over Akio Murata's, and the electric feeling of it jolted through him and almost had him jerk the wheel - something that caused Suki to laugh. "It's just over here."

At ten in the morning, Akio Murata pulls into a side alley next to a soapland. This time of morning it's empty, as the entire block only really comes alive at night. Suki lives in the building next to it, on the fourth floor, and she has promised him that he can see her bedroom. Suki holds his hand as she leads him up the fire escape style staircase to a lone door on the fourth floor. "Give me a minute to slip into something...wait here, okay?" Akio Murata nods as Suki steps into her room, leaving Akio Murata outside for a brief minute that lasts an eternity.

At ten o-four in the morning, the door to Suki's place opens once again only Suki isn't wearing anything more comfortable at all. She's wearing the same thing, only her hands are wearing black gloves and in one of her hands is a small blade, a tanto by the looks of it. Before Akio Murata can say anything, his world goes dark. Cold fingers grip his face and thumbs press into his eyeballs. He screams, but his mouth is pressed against leather-clad thighs. Red, white, oozing pus and blood drip from his eye sockets as thumbs press tighter into the sockets where his eyes once called home.

"You like looking at other women? You don't deserve your eyes." Suki releases her thumbs, wiping the blood and goo onto Akio Murata's shirt. It is ten o'seven in the morning and Akio Murata is blind. Never again will he stare at the secretary. At the news anchor. At his daughter. "Who would ever love you?" Suki's hand tightens around the hilt of her knife as it slices into Akio Murata's neck. He squeals. He writhes. Like a pig at the slaughterhouse. Suki stabs the knife in further, a deep cut like carving a pumpkin made of fatty flesh. As blood splashes onto her face, Suki drags the knife to the left. It is not a clean cut. It is not a quick kill.

Tsukuyomi enters the driver seat of her brand new Acura, turns up the volume, takes a moment to admire her handiwork in the rearview mirror, and leaves Akio Murata in a plume of exhaust.

It is ten fifteen in the morning and Akio Murata lies dead in an alley.


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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Legion02
Raw

Legion02

Member Seen 8 mos ago


location: Hotel
interactions: Isabel, Aphrodite
mentions: Ares, Pasithea



Isabel reckoned this would probably end up in Anubisā€™ notes when she went back. The video message her father had sent her didnā€™t make her world spin. It didnā€™t reduce her to a sobbing, desperate mess. At first she was panicking but then something else took over. She could never explain it. It was like some sort of drive took over. All the while sheā€™d feel numb. That alone probably had some shrink explanation. The gun in her pocket as she casually strolled into the hotel lobby would probably be the second note point.

She almost whistled as she walked past the concierge of the big hotel chain as if she was a guest. With uncharacteristic patience she waited for an elevator. Her eyes were darting around though. She had seen every camera in the lobby. There was no way to get in unseen. She had her eyes on the cute, drunk couple beside her as well. It could all be an act. They could be waiting for her. Let them. She had her finger on the trigger in her pocket. The concierge picked up a phone. Isabel felt her heart beat faster. Was he calling his wife or a hitman?

Her father ā€“ no, Ares ā€“ would have recognized the slight jolt that went through Isabel for what it was: a sign of pure tension. She was strung like a violin cord. Still, she stepped into the elevator. The cute couple stepped up to get in as well. They looked at Isabel while laughing, stopped, and took a step backwards. Maybe it was because she looked like a racoon that hadnā€™t slept all night and really shouldā€™ve. Maybe it was because of the fresh blood on her pants leg. Or maybe it was because Isabel just really didnā€™t want anyone in that elevator right then.

She rode it upwards. The elevator ride was smooth. Smooth enough that Isabel didnā€™t feel the wound on her tight ache. Just as gently the elevator stopped at the designated floor. Isabel casually strolled out. The floorā€™s corridor was always. At this hour, most people would probably still be in their bed or getting into the bathroom to prepare for breakfast. Isabel made her way toward the door of her fatherā€™s room. It used a keycard but there was a regular lock too. Again, one of her more questionable hobbies came in handy. Hotel locks were so easy to pick.

Slowly Isabel opened the door and pulled her gun. Normally nobody should be in the suite. Still, she had her finger on the trigger. Like she was trained to, she began to quietly move through the suite to check the rooms. Most places were clear. The bedroom was last.

And there the mortal was met with the strangest of sights. A blonde woman in the bed. Immediately Isabel pointed the gun at her. With her free hand she switched the lights on. ā€œYou have exactly five fucking seconds to tell me where my father is.ā€

To say the light turning on was an annoyance, was a huge understatement. The ā€˜phone as Ares had put it when explaining its function had been useless, the contact of Pasithea getting an unknown voice as a reply. She didnā€™t call upon her children, wanting to surprise them in person and she was not one to let herself look like an embarrassed fool as she tried to get a handle on this new world. She didnā€™t trust to leave the safety Ares had provided so she had decided to stay. Now, an unknown mortal was with her and holding Hephaestusā€™s forge knows what while spattering on in an odd language. Ares really needed to keep better company. Was this the woman he hinted at? A mortal lover? That would explain the violent expression but one that held little in comparison to those she had seen before. Looking closer at the woman, she was indeed beautiful but it was sullied with an injury or what she would assume as one and the dark circles were telling.

She rose from the bed without shame of her nude form, trusting Ares was true to his word that the place was safe and she had never been one for modesty. ā€Ī‘Ī³Ī±Ļ€Ī·Ļ„Ī­ Ī¼ĪæĻ…, Ļ†Ī±ĪÆĪ½ĪµĻƒĪ±Ī¹ ĪøĪµĻ„Ī¹ĪŗĪ¬ ĻƒĻ„ĪµĪ½ĪæĻ‡Ļ‰ĻĪ·Ī¼Ī­Ī½ĪæĻ‚. Ī‘Ī½ ĻˆĪ¬Ļ‡Ī½ĪµĻ„Īµ Ī³Ī¹Ī± Ļ„ĪæĪ½ Ī†ĻĪ·, ĪøĪ± Ļ€ĻĪ­Ļ€ĪµĪ¹ Ī½Ī± Ļ€ĪµĻĪ¹Ī¼Ī­Ī½ĪµĻ„Īµ, Ī±Ī»Ī»Ī¬ ĪŗĪ±Ī½ĪµĪÆĻ‚ Ī“ĪµĪ½ ĪøĪ­Ī»ĪµĪ¹ Ī½Ī± ĪµĻ€Ī¹ĻƒĻ„ĻĪ­ĻˆĪµĪ¹ ĻƒĪµ Ī±Ļ…Ļ„ĻŒ..ā€ (My dear, you look positively distressed. If you're looking for Ares, you'll have to wait, but no one wants to come home to that..), she tutted and stepped forward to cup the mortalā€™s chin, tilting it to take a better look at her face. ā€Ī¦Ī±ĪÆĪ½ĪµĻ„Ī±Ī¹ ĻŒĻ„Ī¹ Ļ€Ī­ĻĪ±ĻƒĪµĻ‚ Ī­Ī½Ī± Ī¼ĪæĪ½ĪæĻ€Ī¬Ļ„Ī¹. ĪœĪ±ĪŗĪ¬ĻĪ¹ Ī½Ī± Ī¼Ļ€ĪæĻĪæĻĻƒĪ± Ī½Ī± Ļ€ĻĪæĻƒĻ†Ī­ĻĻ‰ Ļ„ĻƒĪ¬Ī¹, Ī±Ī»Ī»Ī¬ Īæ Ī†ĻĪ·Ļ‚ Ļ†Ī±ĪÆĪ½ĪµĻ„Ī±Ī¹ Ī½Ī± Ī­Ļ‡ĪµĪ¹ Ī­Ī»Ī»ĪµĪ¹ĻˆĪ· Ļ…Ļ€Ī·ĻĪ­Ļ„ĪµĻ‚.ā€ (Looks like you crossed a path. I wish I could offer tea, but Ares seems to be short on servants.), she stated as she let go of the woman, taking a seat back on the bed and leaning back a bit to lounge more comfortably as they waited.

This was probably the weirdest experience in Isabelā€™s whole life. And in the last twenty-four hours she had a lifetime of weird experiences. Her gun was completely disregarded, as was the threat. The womanā€™s nudity shouldnā€™t have taken the mortal off guard but it did. She was beyond beautiful. Yet she spoke Greek and mentioned her fatherā€™s real name.

Isabel barely understood most of what the woman said. It had been half a decade since she last learned Greek and it was beyond rusty. Slowly, she tried to talk while still keeping the gun at the ready: ā€œĪ ĪæĪ¹ĪæĻ‚ ĪµĪÆĻƒĪ±Ī¹? Ī ĻŽĻ‚... Ī¾Ī­ĻĪµĪ¹Ļ‚ Ļ„Īæ... Ļ€ĻĪ±Ī³Ī¼Ī±Ļ„Ī¹ĪŗĻŒ... ĻŒĪ½ĪæĪ¼Ī± Ļ„ĪæĻ… Ļ€Ī±Ļ„Ī­ĻĪ± Ī¼ĪæĻ…?ā€ (Who are you? How do you know my fatherā€™s real name?)

She blinked, confused by one of the questions but decided to at least answer the first. ā€Ī–Ī·Ļ„ĻŽ ĻƒĻ…Ī³Ī³Ī½ĻŽĪ¼Ī·, Ī“ĪµĪ½ Ļ€ĪÆĻƒĻ„ĪµĻ…Ī± ĻŒĻ„Ī¹ Ī­Ļ€ĻĪµĻ€Īµ Ī½Ī± Ļ„Īæ Ī“Ī·Ī»ĻŽĻƒĻ‰ ĻŒĻ€Ļ‰Ļ‚ ĪøĪ± Ī­Ļ€ĻĪµĻ€Īµ Ī½Ī± ĪµĪÆĪ½Ī±Ī¹ Ļ€ĻĪæĻ†Ī±Ī½Ī­Ļ‚, Ī±Ī»Ī»Ī¬ ĪŗĪ±Ļ„Ī·Ī³ĪæĻĻŽ Ļ„Ī·Ī½ Ī±Ļ€ĪæĻ…ĻƒĪÆĪ± Ī¼ĪæĻ… ĻƒĻ„Ī·Ī½ Ī¬Ī³Ī½ĪæĪ¹Ī¬ ĻƒĪ±Ļ‚. Ī•Ļ€Ī¹Ļ„ĻĪ­ĻˆĻ„Īµ Ī¼ĪæĻ… Ī½Ī± ĻƒĻ…ĻƒĻ„Ī·ĪøĻŽ... Ī‘Ļ†ĻĪæĪ“ĪÆĻ„Ī·, Ī˜ĪµĪ¬ Ļ„Ī·Ļ‚ ĪŸĪ¼ĪæĻĻ†Ī¹Ī¬Ļ‚ ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ Ļ„Ī·Ļ‚ Ī‘Ī³Ī¬Ļ€Ī·Ļ‚.ā€ (My apologies, I did not believe I needed to state this as it should be obvious, but I blame my absence on your ignorance. Allow me to introduce myself... Aphrodite, Goddess of Beauty and Love.), she replied, leaning to properly sit up in a regal stance and looked over the other woman again. ā€œĪšĪ±Ī¹ Ļ€ĪæĪ¹ĪæĻ‚ Ī¼Ļ€ĪæĻĪµĪÆ Ī½Ī± ĪµĪÆĻƒĪ±Ī¹, ĪµĪŗĻ„ĻŒĻ‚ Ī±Ļ€ĻŒ Ī¼Ī¹Ī± ĪŗĻŒĻĪ· Ļ„ĪæĻ… Ī†ĻĪ·?ā€ (And who might you be, besides a daughter of Ares?), Aphro questioned.

The mortal felt her stomach twist again as she realized she was ā€“ again ā€“ facing off against a divine. The paramour of her father no less. Why was she here!? Control was once again slipping from Isabel fingers. She did not like that. There were too many questions and far too little answers. The grip around her weapon tightened. Her mind raced as she tried to remember anything and everything about the goddess she learned from myth. Aphrodite was never violent, but she was manipulative. Isabel did not want another thread twisting around her. She couldnā€™t give the goddess much. No, she couldnā€™t give her anything.

Was she one of the bad ones? The utter disregard for her weapon suggested so. That and the slightly unhinged feeling Isabel was getting from her. In myths, Aphrodite was never violent, but she was shrewd and manipulative. Isabel didnā€™t need another thread twisting around her. ā€œĪ•ĪÆĪ¼Ī±Ī¹ Ī±Ļ…Ļ„ĻŒĻ‚ Ļ€ĪæĻ… ĪŗĪ¬Ī½ĪµĪ¹ ĪµĻĻ‰Ļ„Ī®ĻƒĪµĪ¹Ļ‚.ā€ (I am the one asking questions.) She sneered. ā€œĪ•ĪÆĪ¼Ī±Ī¹ Ī±Ļ…Ļ„ĻŒĻ‚ Ļ€ĪæĻ… ĪŗĪ¬Ī½ĪµĪ¹ ĪµĻĻ‰Ļ„Ī®ĻƒĪµĪ¹Ļ‚.ā€ (Why are you here?)

Unimpressed, that was currently the appearance and expression she held after the comment. She looked at her fingernails as if in boredom before tucking her hand under her chin, crossing her legs as if thinking about the answer but instead cocked her head with a sweet smile. ā€Ī“Ļ…ĻƒĻ„Ļ…Ļ‡ĻŽĻ‚, Ī­Ļ‡ĪµĻ„Īµ Ļ„Ī·Ī½ Ļ„Ī¬ĻƒĪ· Ī½Ī± Ī¼Ī·Ī½ Ī±Ļ€Ī±Ī½Ļ„Ī®ĻƒĪµĻ„Īµ, ĪæĻ€ĻŒĻ„Īµ Ī½ĪæĪ¼ĪÆĪ¶Ļ‰ ĻŒĻ„Ī¹ ĪøĪ± ĪŗĪ¬Ī½Ļ‰ Ļ„Īæ ĪÆĪ“Ī¹Īæ ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ ĪøĪ± Ļ„Īæ Ī±Ļ†Ī®ĻƒĻ‰ Ī­Ļ„ĻƒĪ¹.ā€ (Unfortunately, you've inclined not to respond, so I think I'll do the same and leave it at that.), Aphrodite replied. She didnā€™t see the need to keep talking to someone that wouldnā€™t give the same decency they were asking for. It was about respect and if the child was smart, she would be careful in messing with her. She might not be her fatherā€™s lover anymore but they still cared for each other and if she ruined the safety he provided, it would look worse on the child than herself. She had dealt with more stubborn and violent looking children than the one before her.

Isabelā€™s finger was on the trigger, ready to squeeze it. Then she remembered one of her fatherā€™s lessons. Aphrodite was no direct threat right now. At least not physically. She had the time. So she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. If she knew anything about her fatherā€™s disappearance, she wouldnā€™t have just stayed naked in his bed. And she wouldā€™ve known all of his children for sure. Thatā€™s the least of what Isabel herself would do if she wanted to take someone down.

So Aphrodite was probably not involved. So what was she doing here? What was happening? How should she deal with the goddess? Again her mind harkened back to the myths she was so obsessed over when she was young. Aphrodite, what did she crave? Isabelā€™s demeanor shifted. With her thumb, she put the safety on and put it away.

ā€œĪ£Īµ Ļ€Ī±ĻĪ±ĪŗĪ±Ī»ĻŽ Ī“Ī­Ī¾ĪæĻ… Ļ„Ī·Ī½ ĻƒĻ…Ī³Ī½ĻŽĪ¼Ī· Ī¼ĪæĻ…. Ī‰Ļ„Ī±Ī½ Ī¼Ī¹Ī± Ī¼ĪµĪ³Ī¬Ī»Ī· Ī½ĻĻ‡Ļ„Ī± ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ Ī“ĪµĪ½ Ļ€ĪµĻĪÆĪ¼ĪµĪ½Ī± Ī½Ī± ĻƒĻ…Ī½Ī±Ī½Ļ„Ī®ĻƒĻ‰ ĪŗĪ¬Ļ€ĪæĪ¹ĪæĪ½ ĻƒĪ±Ī½ ĪµĻƒĪ­Ī½Ī±.ā€ (Please accept my apologies. It has been a long night and I was not expecting to meet someone like you.) She said as she tried to calm herself further. ā€œĪ•ĪÆĪ¼Ī±Ī¹ Ī· Isabel ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ ĻƒĪµ ĻƒĻĪ³ĪŗĻĪ¹ĻƒĪ· Ī¼Īµ ĪµĻƒĪ­Ī½Ī±, Ī“ĪµĪ½ ĪµĪÆĪ¼Ī±Ī¹ Ļ€ĪæĪ»Ļ Ļ€ĪµĻĪ¹ĻƒĻƒĻŒĻ„ĪµĻĪæ.ā€ (I am Isabel and compared to you, I am not much more.)

ā€œĪ— ĪŗĪæĪ»Ī±ĪŗĪµĪÆĪ± ĪøĪ± ĻƒĪµ Ļ€Ī¬ĪµĪ¹ Ļ€Ī±Ī½Ļ„ĪæĻ Ī³Ī»Ļ…ĪŗĻŒ Ī¼ĪæĻ… ĪŗĪæĻĪÆĻ„ĻƒĪ¹. Ī ĪæĻ„Ī­ Ī¼Ī·Ī½ Ļ†ĪæĪ²Ī¬ĻƒĪ±Ī¹, Ī“ĪµĪ½ ĪøĪ± Ļ„Īæ ĪŗĻĪ±Ļ„Ī®ĻƒĻ‰ ĪµĪ½Ī±Ī½Ļ„ĪÆĪæĪ½ ĻƒĪæĻ… Ī±Ī»Ī»Ī¬ Ī¼Ī·Ī½ Ī“Ļ…ĻƒĻ†Ī·Ī¼Ī®ĻƒĪµĪ¹Ļ‚ Ļ„ĪæĪ½ ĪµĪ±Ļ…Ļ„ĻŒ ĻƒĪæĻ…. Ī•ĪÆĻƒĪ±Ī¹ ĪŗĻŒĻĪ· Ļ„ĪæĻ… Ī†ĻĪ· Ī±ĪŗĻŒĪ¼Ī± ĪŗĪ¹ Ī±Ī½ Ī“ĪµĪ½ ĪµĪÆĻƒĪ±Ī¹ Ī“Ī¹ĪŗĪ® Ī¼ĪæĻ….ā€ (Flattery will take you everywhere my sweet girl. Never fear, I won't hold it against you but don't discredit yourself. You are a daughter of Ares even if you are not mine.), she replied, her posture relaxing once more before standing so she could gently try to guide Isabel to sit down as a mother would with a hurt child needing comfort. ā€œĪ”Ļ…ĻƒĻ„Ļ…Ļ‡ĻŽĻ‚, Īæ Ļ€Ī±Ļ„Ī­ĻĪ±Ļ‚ ĻƒĪæĻ… ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ ĪµĪ³ĻŽ Ī“ĪµĪ½ ĪµĪÆĻ‡Ī±Ī¼Īµ Ī¼Ī¹Ī± Ī¼Ī±ĪŗĻĪ¬ ĪµĻ€Ī±Ī½Ī­Ī½Ļ‰ĻƒĪ·. ĪœĻŒĪ»Ī¹Ļ‚ Ļ€ĻĻŒĻƒĻ†Ī±Ļ„Ī± Ī¾ĻĻ€Ī½Ī·ĻƒĪ± Ī±Ļ€ĻŒ Ī­Ī½Ī±Ī½ Ī²Ī±ĪøĻ Ī»Ī®ĪøĪ±ĻĪ³Īæ, ĪæĻ€ĻŒĻ„Īµ Ī¼Īµ Ī¬Ļ†Ī·ĻƒĪµ ĪµĪ“ĻŽ Ī³Ī¹Ī± Ļ„ĻŽĻĪ±, Ī¼Ī­Ļ‡ĻĪ¹ Ī½Ī± Ļ€ĻĪæĻƒĪ±ĻĪ¼ĪæĻƒĻ„ĻŽ ĻƒĪµ Ī±Ļ…Ļ„ĻŒĪ½ Ļ„ĪæĪ½ Ī½Ī­Īæ ĪŗĻŒĻƒĪ¼Īæ. Ī£Ļ‡ĪµĪ“ĪÆĪ±Ī¶Ī± Ī½Ī± ĪµĻ€Ī¹ĪŗĪæĪ¹Ī½Ļ‰Ī½Ī®ĻƒĻ‰ Ī¼Īµ Ī­Ī½Ī±Ī½ Ī±Ļ€ĻŒ Ļ„ĪæĻ…Ļ‚ Ī¬Ī»Ī»ĪæĻ…Ļ‚ Ī±Ī»Ī»Ī¬ Ī¬ĻĪ³Ī·ĻƒĪ±. Ī¤Ī·Ī½ Ļ„ĪµĪ»ĪµĻ…Ļ„Ī±ĪÆĪ± Ļ†ĪæĻĪ¬ Ļ€ĪæĻ… Ī¼Ī¹Ī»Ī®ĻƒĪ±Ī¼Īµ, Ī®Ļ„Ī±Ī½ ĻƒĻ„Ī·Ī½ Ļ€ĻĪ±Ī³Ī¼Ī±Ļ„Ī¹ĪŗĻŒĻ„Ī·Ļ„Ī± Ļ€ĪæĪ»Ļ Ī²Ī¹Ī±ĻƒĻ„Ī¹ĪŗĻŒĻ‚ ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ ĪµĪÆĻ‡Īµ ĪŗĪ¬Ļ€ĪæĪ¹Ī± ĪøĪ­ĻƒĪ· Ļ€ĪæĻ… Ī­Ļ€ĻĪµĻ€Īµ Ī½Ī± ĪµĪÆĪ½Ī±Ī¹. Ī˜Ī± Ļ…Ļ€Ī­ĪøĪµĻƒĪ± ĻŒĻ„Ī¹ ĪøĪ± Ī¾Ī­ĻĪµĻ„Īµ Ļ€ĪµĻĪ¹ĻƒĻƒĻŒĻ„ĪµĻĪ± Ī±Ļ€ĻŒ ĪµĪ¼Ī­Ī½Ī± Ī³Ī¹Ī± Ļ„Ī¹Ļ‚ ĪµĻĻ‡ĪæĪ¼ĪæĻĻ‚ Ļ„ĪæĻ….ā€ (Unfortunately, your father and I did not have a long reunion. I have just recently awoken from a deep slumber so he left me here for now, until I can adjust to this new world. I planned to contact one of the others for assistance but it was late. Last we spoke, he was actually in quite the hurry and had some place he needed to be. I would assume you would know more than I on his comings and goings.)

She wasnā€™t a fool as most people might believe. She noticed the shift in attitude but as long as it kept things pleasant between them and offered no harm to her or those she cared for, Aphrodite saw no reason not to humor the girl. She didnā€™t mind sharing information and loved learning a thing or two from others but she was quite in the dark. She wasnā€™t sure how close Isabel was with her own children and if she was unaware of Pothos disappearance then she did not wish to further upset the woman. It was better to just reply to the recently asked question of her own arrival and skip on too many extra details. It did leave one question though, why was Isabel here? Did she live her as well? That would be rather strange. ā€Ī”ĪµĪ½ ĪøĪ­Ī»Ļ‰ Ī½Ī± Ļ€Ī±ĻĪ­Ī¼Ī²Ļ‰, Ī±Ī»Ī»Ī¬ Ļ…Ļ€Ī®ĻĻ‡Īµ Ī»ĻŒĪ³ĪæĻ‚ Ļ€ĪæĻ… Ī­Ļ€ĻĪµĻ€Īµ Ī½Ī± Ļ„ĪæĪ½ Ī“ĪµĪ¹Ļ‚; ĪŠĻƒĻ‰Ļ‚ ĪøĪ± Ī¼Ļ€ĪæĻĪæĻĻƒĪ± Ī½Ī± Ī²ĪæĪ·ĪøĪ®ĻƒĻ‰ Ī® ĪøĪ± Ī¼Ļ€ĪæĻĪæĻĻƒĪ±Ī¼Īµ Ī½Ī± Ļ€ĪµĻĪ¹Ī¼Ī­Ī½ĪæĻ…Ī¼Īµ Ļ„Ī·Ī½ ĪµĻ€Ī¹ĻƒĻ„ĻĪæĻ†Ī® Ļ„ĪæĻ…. Ī˜Ī± Ļ‡Ī±ĻĻŽ Ī½Ī± Ī­Ļ‡Ļ‰ Ļ€Ī±ĻĪ­Ī± Ļ„ĪµĪ»Ī¹ĪŗĪ¬!ā€ (I don't mean to intrude but was there a reason you needed to see him? Perhaps I could be of some assistance or we could wait for his return. I would be delighted to have some company afterall!)

ā€œĪ”ĪµĪ½ Ī½ĪæĪ¼ĪÆĪ¶Ļ‰ ĻŒĻ„Ī¹ ĪøĪ± Ī­ĻĪøĪµĪ¹ ĪµĪ“ĻŽ.ā€(I donā€™t think he will come here). Isabel said. She didnā€™t sit down though. Even though it felt so very alluring. Now that the intensity of the situation abated she started to feel tiredness in her body. Soon she would start getting slow. That would be bad. She still had to find her father. ā€œĪˆĻƒĻ„ĪµĪ¹Ī»Īµ Ī±Ļ…Ļ„ĻŒĪ¼Ī±Ļ„Īæ Ī¼Ī®Ī½Ļ…Ī¼Ī± Ī»Ī­Ī³ĪæĪ½Ļ„Ī±Ļ‚ ĻŒĻ„Ī¹ ĪŗĪ¬Ļ„Ī¹ Ī­Ļ‡ĪµĪ¹ ĻƒĻ…Ī¼Ī²ĪµĪÆ. Ī•Ī¾Ī±Ļ†Ī±Ī½ĪÆĻƒĻ„Ī·ĪŗĪµ Ī®..." (He sent an automatic message saying that something has happened. He vanished orā€¦) The words got stuck in her throat. Only now did she realize that her father could actually no longer be alive. She shook the idea out of her head. He wouldnā€™t die that easily. Theyā€™d need to drop a nuke on him to stop him.

ā€œĪ‰ĻĪøĪ± ĪµĪ“ĻŽ ĻˆĪ¬Ļ‡Ī½ĪæĪ½Ļ„Ī±Ļ‚-ā€œ (I came here looking for-) A knock on the door interrupted Isabel. She frowned. Immediately she pulled the gun again and walked towards the door of the hotel suite. Through the looking glass, she saw two big men dressed in suits with earpieces. ā€œShit.ā€

ā€œSecurity. Please open up.ā€ The men said as they politely but firmly knocked on the door again.

Her blood ran cold at what Isabel was suggesting before it started to boil over with rage. Vanished? Pothos and now Ares? She was starting to take this as a personal attack and if she found out who was behind this, they would be sorry. Her gaze darkened as she stood ridgid, placing a hand on the other womanā€™s shoulder as she was about to reassure her when they were interrupted. The knock on the door had her head snapping in that direction, her power building to defend herself as she had no weapon currently to protect herself. Aphrodite was still irritated by the weak amount of her power being tugged to the surface but it was more than earlier which was a plus.

She followed carefully after Isabel as she approached the door. There was that strange language again from both Isabel and whoever was on the other side of the door. She certainly didnā€™t trust it and the other didnā€™t seem too pleased by the arrival. Ī ĪæĪ¹ĪæĻ‚ ĪµĪ¹Ī½Ī±Ī¹ ĪµĪŗĪµĪ¹? Ī¤Ī¹ ĪµĪÆĻ€Ī±Ī½? (Who is there? What did they say?), Aphro asked her curiously while looking towards the door. ā€Ī ĻĪ­Ļ€ĪµĪ¹ Ī½Ī± Ļ‡ĪµĪ¹ĻĪ¹ĻƒĻ„ĻŽ Ļ„Ī·Ī½ ĪŗĪ±Ļ„Ī¬ĻƒĻ„Ī±ĻƒĪ·?ā€ (Should I handle the situation?), her tone changing to something dark, sultry, and with a hint of anger due to the interruption.

ā€œĪœĪ·Ī½ Ļ„ĪæĻ…Ļ‚ ĻƒĪŗĪæĻ„ĻŽĻƒĪµĻ„Īµ!ā€ (Donā€™t kill them!) Isabel whisper-exclaimed to Aphrodite. That would make a whole new mess she wasnā€™t willing or able to clean up right now. Still, she did pull her own gun again. The situation was bad though. Ares - the one who booked the suite - had disappeared. Instead, two women were crashing in it. One who didnā€™t speak English, and the other who looked like she hadnā€™t slept in a full week. ā€œĪ ĻĪæĻƒĻ€Ī¬ĪøĪ·ĻƒĪµ Ī½Ī±... Ī“ĪµĪ½ Ī¾Ī­ĻĻ‰! Ī ĪµĪÆĻƒĻ„Īµ Ļ„ĪæĻ…Ļ‚ Ī½Ī± Ļ†ĻĪ³ĪæĻ…Ī½.ā€ (Try toā€¦ I donā€™t know! Convince them to just leave.)

Aphro blinked at the exclamation, wondering who the child had dealt with in the pastā€¦well, besides her father. Okay, that right there was probably where that comment came from but she handled issues in another way. ā€Ī¤Īæ Ī½Ī± ĻƒĪŗĪæĻ„ĻŽĪ½ĪµĪ¹Ļ‚ ĪµĪÆĪ½Ī±Ī¹ Ļ€ĪæĪ»Ļ Ī±ĪŗĪ±Ļ„Ī¬ĻƒĻ„Ī±Ļ„Īæ Ī³Ī¹Ī± Ļ„Ī± Ī³ĪæĻĻƒĻ„Ī± Ī¼ĪæĻ…, ĪŗĪ±Ī»ĻĻ„ĪµĻĪ± Ī½Ī± Ļ„Īæ Ī±Ļ€ĪæĻ†ĻĪ³Ļ‰ ĪŗĪ±ĪøĻŒĪ»ĪæĻ… Ī±Ī½ ĪµĪÆĪ½Ī±Ī¹ Ī“Ļ…Ī½Ī±Ļ„ĻŒĪ½. Ī”ĪµĪ½ Ļ‡ĻĪµĪ¹Ī¬Ī¶ĪµĻ„Ī±Ī¹ Ī½Ī± Ī±Ī½Ī·ĻƒĻ…Ļ‡ĪµĪÆĻ„Īµ, ĪµĪÆĪ¼Ī±Ī¹ ĻƒĪÆĪ³ĪæĻ…ĻĪæĻ‚ ĻŒĻ„Ī¹ Ī¼Ļ€ĪæĻĻŽ Ī½Ī± Ļ„ĪæĻ…Ļ‚ Ļ€ĪµĪÆĻƒĻ‰.ā€ (Killing is too messy for my taste, better to avoid it altogether if possible. No need to worry, I'm sure I can convince them.), she whispered in return before carefully opening the door, not even bothering to fetch something to make herself decent.

ā€Ī“ĪµĪ¹Ī± ĻƒĪ±Ļ‚, Ļ€ĻŽĻ‚ Ī¼Ļ€ĪæĻĻŽ Ī½Ī± ĻƒĪ±Ļ‚ Ī²ĪæĪ·ĪøĪ®ĻƒĻ‰ ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ Ļ„ĪæĻ…Ļ‚ Ī“ĻĪæ ĪŗĪ±Ī»ĪæĪÆ ĪŗĻĻĪ¹ĪæĪ¹; Ī„Ļ€Ī±ĻĻ‡ĪµĪ¹ ĪµĪ½Ī± Ļ€ĻĪæĪ²Ī»Ī·Ī¼Ī±?ā€ (Hello, how can I assist both of you fine gentlemen? Is there a problem?), Aphrodite purred, lust dripping off every word as she relaxed against the door frame, crossing her arms under her bust to make them more prominent while gazing over both of them as if wishing to devour the duo in a fit of passion. Her powers flowed freely, ready to entice the security officers and bend them to her will. It was hard to say with the new limitations what would happen but she was at least willing to try. Aphro was still unused to the world but mortal men could not have changed all that much. It would be surprising for sure if they had.

The two guards were taken by surprise when Aphrodite opened the door. Even though they shouldnā€™t have been. It wasnā€™t the first time they had to check in on a guest that opened the door naked like that. Yet with this woman they were stunned for a moment.

Isabel stood behind the door with big eyes. She couldnā€™t believe what was happening. The goddess just opened the door and spoke some Greek!? How was that going to help them at all!?

The men were looking at Aphrodite with a slight edge in their gazes. There was a feralness in them that wanted the woman. If both of them had still been in the marines things might have gone differently. But now they were married. One of the guards was reminded of his wife when he saw the woman. The other was reminded by the college girl next door. He had a tougher time holding himself back.

ā€œExcuse me, maā€™am.ā€ The first said. ā€œIā€™m afraid that we donā€™t really speakā€¦ whatever that is. Do you speak English?ā€ He had his fair share of experience with beautiful foreign women. Though he was hoping she did speak English. If not this would require a lot of hand motions.

Meanwhile, Isabel, who was feeling the threads of the situation unraveling even more slowly raised her gun and put the barrelā€™s end against the door, approximately at the level of where the security guardā€™s head was. Just in case things went really south.

Frustration clawed at her again as it had earlier when trying to deal with Ares. Her powers were a failure, usually able to turn any head, desperate for her approval but now it seemed only a slight pull. On top of that, she couldnā€™t even twist her way with words as they understood none of what she had to say and she certainly couldnā€™t understand them. If Isabelā€™s body movement said anything it probably wasnā€™t a positive and the other woman didnā€™t seem in the best of moods to speak. She had a feeling if she left her to handle it, then it would end as well as letting Deimos run around with a knife and no rules. She tilted her head, debating on what the best course of action could be but she was at a loss. The closest thing she could do was let Isabel be her interpreter.

Aphrodite put on a smile, trying to cover most of her annoyance and spoke calmly, appearing to speak to the two before her but actually addressing the one behind the door. ā€Ī‘Ļ€ĪæĪ³ĪæĪ·Ļ„ĪµĻ…Ļ„Ī¹ĪŗĪ¬, ĪæĪ¹ Ī“Ļ…Ī½Ī¬Ī¼ĪµĪ¹Ļ‚ Ī¼ĪæĻ… Ī“ĪµĪ½ Ī»ĪµĪ¹Ļ„ĪæĻ…ĻĪ³ĪæĻĪ½ ĻŒĻ€Ļ‰Ļ‚ Ļ€ĪµĻĪÆĪ¼ĪµĪ½Ī±. Ī¤Ī¹ Ī»Ī­Ī½Īµ?ā€ (Disappointingly, my powers aren't working as expected. What are they saying?)

Isabel turned pale. It wasnā€™t like she could actually say anything!

The second guard who was considerably younger spoke up. ā€œWould you mind if we come in?ā€ He didnā€™t wait for Aphroditeā€™s answer. He needed to get with her behind closed doors first. So he stepped forward and pushed the door more open.

Isabel had her finger on the trigger when she heard that. The door was moving. It pushed her aside. She wanted to squeeze the trigger but then remembered something her father once told her. An important lesson. She had shrugged it off at the time. Not now.

ā€œWe just have to check if everything is in order.ā€ The younger security guard said as he walked in. His eyes were focused on Aphrodite still. How could they not be!? ā€œWeā€™ll be quick, I prom-ā€œ

With a hard hit on the back of his skull, Isabel tried to knock the guard unconscious. His head sprang back up though. So she wacked him again. This time he did fall forward. The older guard grabbed his pepper spray. Isabel moved faster. She pointed her gun at him. ā€œDrop it.ā€ He did as told. ā€œĪ Ī¹Ī¬ĻƒĪµ Ļ„Īæ Ī¼Ļ€ĪæĻ…ĪŗĪ¬Ī»Ī¹ - Ļ„Īæ Ļ€ĻĪ¬Ī³Ī¼Ī± Ļ€ĪæĻ… Ļ„ĪæĻ… Ī­Ļ€ĪµĻƒĪµ.ā€ (Grab the bottle- the thing he dropped.) Isabel ordered Aphrodite in almost the exact same way Ares would. ā€œYou, inside, now.ā€ She said to the older guard again.

She did as she was told, feeling the urgency in the sudden request for this weird thing. Aphro felt bad for the passed out mortal as this situation that had become hell in a handbasket but at the same time, she hadnā€™t appreciated the unwelcome barging in of her space, whether it was egged on by their original purpose at the door or if it was because of her powers. She waited until the second man was completely in the room before closing the door, not wanting any prying eyes if things got overly violent. She at least remembered they would become groveling idiots or viciously angry while screaming at the one they blamed.

ā€Ī•ĪÆĻƒĻ„Īµ ĻƒĪÆĪ³ĪæĻ…ĻĪæĪ¹ ĻŒĻ„Ī¹ Ī±Ļ…Ļ„ĻŒ ĪøĪ­Ī»ĪµĻ„Īµ Ī½Ī± ĪŗĪ¬Ī½ĪµĻ„Īµ? ĪŸĪ¹ ĪøĪ½Ī·Ļ„ĪæĪÆ Ī¼Ļ€ĪæĻĪµĪÆ Ī½Ī± ĪµĪÆĪ½Ī±Ī¹ Ī¬ĻƒĻ„Ī±Ļ„ĪæĪ¹ Ī³Ī¹Ī± Ļ„Ī­Ļ„ĪæĪ¹ĪæĻ… ĪµĪÆĪ“ĪæĻ…Ļ‚ Ļ€ĻĪ¬Ī³Ī¼Ī±Ļ„Ī± ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ Ī½Ī± Ī¶Ī·Ļ„ĪæĻĪ½ Ī±Ļ€ĪæĪ¶Ī·Ī¼ĪÆĻ‰ĻƒĪ· Ī¼Īµ Ļ„Ī· Ī¼ĪÆĪ± Ī® Ļ„Ī·Ī½ Ī¬Ī»Ī»Ī· Ī¼ĪæĻĻ†Ī®.ā€ (Are you sure this is what you want to do? Mortals can be fickle about this sort of thing and ask for compensation in one form or another.), Aphrodite asked, glancing up and down at the man before her, feeling more inclined to make sure he wasnā€™t harmed. He had been polite and unrushed, plus while it annoyed her he was able to resist more, something made her feel like it was because of something she held precious. Love. She couldnā€™t completely fault the man for that but at the same time, these two could have left them alone and the trouble wouldnā€™t have started. Mortals, how they left the feeling of contradiction with each action.

At this point the umpteenth time Isabel was running on little more than adrenaline. It kept her going but she felt it was wrong. She should rest soon. Except she couldnā€™t. ā€œĪ”ĪµĪ½ Ī¼Ļ€ĪæĻĻŽ Ī½Ī± Ī³Ļ…ĻĪÆĻƒĻ‰ Ļ„ĪæĪ½ Ļ‡ĻĻŒĪ½Īæ Ļ€ĪÆĻƒĻ‰.ā€ (Canā€™t turn back time.) Isabel said to Aphrodite. Then she addressed the still-conscious guard: ā€œBind yourself to that door.ā€ She motioned with the gun toward one of the interior doors of the suite. The guard did as he was told. Obviously, who would want to die in a place like this for what was probably only a little bit more than minimum wage?

Once the guard had tied himself up Isabel took his tie and made it into a gag. Then she turned towards Aphrodite. ā€œĪ”ĪµĪ½ ĪøĪ± Ļ…Ļ€Ī¬ĻĪ¾ĪµĪ¹ ĪŗĪ±Ī¼ĪÆĪ± Ī±Ļ€ĪæĪ¶Ī·Ī¼ĪÆĻ‰ĻƒĪ· Ī³Ī¹Ī± Ī±Ļ…Ļ„ĪæĻĻ‚.ā€ (There wonā€™t be any compensation for them.) She then looked around. They had bought themselves a few more minutes but the front desk would get suspicious. ā€œĪ‘Ļ…Ļ„ĻŒ Ļ„Īæ Ī¼Ī­ĻĪæĻ‚ ĪµĪÆĪ½Ī±Ī¹ ĪµĻ€Ī¹ĪŗĪÆĪ½Ī“Ļ…Ī½Īæ Ļ„ĻŽĻĪ±. Ī ĻĪ­Ļ€ĪµĪ¹ Ī½Ī± Ļ†ĻĪ³ĪæĻ…Ī¼Īµ. Ī Ī¹Ī¬ĻƒĪµ ĻŒ,Ļ„Ī¹ ĻƒĪæĻ… Ī­Ī“Ļ‰ĻƒĪµ Īæ Ī¼Ļ€Ī±Ī¼Ļ€Ī¬Ļ‚ ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ Ī¼ĪµĻ„Ī¬ Ļ€Ī¬Ī¼Īµ.ā€ (This place is dangerous now. We need to leave. Grab whatever dad gave you and then let's go.) Her eyes were getting more wild. Her focus was getting blunt. It felt like she was forgetting something.

She nodded, moving back to the bedroom before placing the coat he gave her back on and slipping the phone as well as theā€¦ what had he called it? Card or something like thatā€¦the new money system for the mortals. It was a bizarre thing but she shoved both items in her pocket, regrouping with Isa in the main room. Isabel had her fathers instincts so if she said it wasnā€™t safe, she would believe her. Aphrodite wished Pasithea had picked up last night, it would have been so much easier. ā€Ī”ĪµĪÆĪ¾Īµ Ļ„Īæ Ī“ĻĻŒĪ¼Īæ.ā€ (Lead the way.), she commanded, feeling on edge. She hadnā€™t liked being in the city area with all the watchful eyes and the carriage she had been brought here in was comfortable but strange. She wished she could get a handle on everything but it was overwhelming which is why the room had felt so nice. Hopefully Isabel knew of a similar place to go.

She didnā€™t.

Finding a new place was barely on Isabelā€™s mind right now. She couldnā€™t focus on thinking that far ahead. Right now she felt more driven by instinct and it was telling her to get out. She didnā€™t say anything to Aphrodite as the women regrouped. She just headed towards the elevator. A spell of dizziness hit her in the hallway. She stopped and put her hand against the wall to hold her up. She couldnā€™t collapse right now. After two deep breaths she kept on going.

In the elevator, her vision got blurry for a moment. At this point it was anyoneā€™s best guess why. Blood loss? Fatigue? Emotional distress? The doctors would probably be able to say. Too bad she wasnā€™t about to go find either of them.

The elevator announced Isa and Aphroditeā€™s arrival in the main lobby. Again Isabel led the way forward. This time towards her car. With the press of a button she unlocked it. ā€œGet in.ā€ She said, before remembering that Aphrodite didnā€™t speak English. ā€œĪœĻ€ĪµĻ‚ Ī¼Ī­ĻƒĪ±.ā€ The adrenaline was wearing off too quickly. Especially when she sat down behind the wheel. Her time was limited and she had nowhere to go. She hated that feeling of helplessness. It made her feel useless. Yet she had no choice now. She shouldnā€™t succumb to pride. Not now. ā€œĪ£Īµ Ļ‡ĻĪµĪ¹Ī¬Ī¶ĪæĪ¼Ī±Ī¹... Ī½Ī± Ī¼ĪæĻ… Ļ€ĪµĪ¹Ļ‚... Ļ€ĪæĻ Ļ€ĻĪ­Ļ€ĪµĪ¹ Ī½Ī± Ļ€Ī¬Ļ‰.ā€ (I need you... to tell me... where I need to go.) She said. Only when she spoke did she realize how hard she was breathing.

Aphrodite had been silent, following instruction with worry at the womanā€™s declining health. She had tried to get her to rest earlier but she refused and now the concern was reaching high levels. Would she be able to be a stable driver? She couldnā€™t take control if needed. She bit her lip, pulling out the phone and looking at the screen again. Pasithea hadnā€™t answered yesterday no matter how many times she tried. Would this really work now? She had to try so instead of replying to Isabel, she hit the contact and prayed for an answer. The ringing sound entered her ear again, nerves frayed that she would hear the same unknown voice. Instead, she heard a voice she recognized but in a language she didnā€™t understand. Aphro heart lifted, pure joy and excitement overshadowing her concern for but a moment. ā€Ī Ī±ĻƒĪ¹ĪøĪ­Ī±!ā€ (Pasithea!)

There was a pause, just a moment of silence which made her fear she was wrong or that something happened where she could not hear. Had the magic worn off the phone? Relief flooded her as the goddess on the other side started to speak, ā€œĪ‘Ļ†ĻĪæĪ“ĪÆĻ„Ī·! Ī Ļ‰Ļ‚ Ļ„Ī± Ļ€Ī®Ī³ĪµĻ‚....Ļ€ĪæĻ… ĪµĪÆĻƒĪ±Ī¹;! Ī•ĪÆĻƒĪ±Ī¹ Ī±ĻƒĻ†Ī±Ī»Ī®Ļ‚!? Ī˜Ī± Ī­ĻĪøĻ‰ Ī½Ī± ĻƒĪµ Ļ€Ī¬ĻĻ‰.ā€ (Aphrodite! How did you....where are you?! Are you safe!? I'll come get you.)

ā€Ī•ĪÆĪ¼Ī±Ī¹ Ī±ĻƒĻ†Ī±Ī»Ī®Ļ‚, Ī±Ī»Ī»Ī¬ Ļ‡ĻĪµĪ¹Ī¬Ī¶ĪæĪ¼Ī±Ī¹ Ī­Ī½Ī± Ī¼Ī­ĻĪæĻ‚ Ī³Ī¹Ī± Ī½Ī± Ī¼ĪµĪÆĪ½Ļ‰. Ī˜Ī± Ļ„Ī± ĪµĪ¾Ī·Ī³Ī®ĻƒĻ‰ ĻŒĪ»Ī± Ī¼ĻŒĪ»Ī¹Ļ‚ ĪµĪÆĪ¼Ī±Ī¹ ĪµĪŗĪµĪÆ, Ī±Ī»Ī»Ī¬ Ļ‡ĻĪµĪ¹Ī¬Ī¶ĪæĪ¼Ī±Ī¹ ĪæĪ“Ī·Ī³ĪÆĪµĻ‚.ā€ (I'm safe, but I need a place to stay. I'll explain everything once I'm there, but I need directions.)

Ī£Ļ„Ī­Ī»Ī½Ļ‰ Ļ„Ī· Ī“Ī¹ĪµĻĪøĻ…Ī½ĻƒĪ· ĻƒĻ„Īæ Ļ„Ī·Ī»Ī­Ļ†Ļ‰Ī½ĻŒ ĻƒĪ±Ļ‚. Ī‘Ļ€Ī»ĻŽĻ‚ Ī“ĻŽĻƒĻ„Īµ Ļ„Īæ ĻƒĻ„ĪæĪ½ ĪæĪ“Ī·Ī³ĻŒ ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ ĪøĪ± Ļ€ĻĪ­Ļ€ĪµĪ¹ Ī½Ī± Ī¾Ī­ĻĪæĻ…Ī½ Ļ„Ī¹ Ī½Ī± ĪŗĪ¬Ī½ĪæĻ…Ī½ Ī±Ļ€ĻŒ ĪµĪŗĪµĪÆ. Ī¦ĻĪæĪ½Ļ„ĪÆĻƒĻ„Īµ Ī½Ī± Ļ„Īæ Ī»Ī¬Ī²ĪµĻ„Īµ Ļ€ĪÆĻƒĻ‰ Ī³Ī¹Ī± Ī½Ī± ĪµĪÆĪ¼Ī±ĻƒĻ„Īµ ĻƒĪµ ĪµĻ€Ī±Ļ†Ī®. Ī ĻĻŒĻƒĪµĻ‡Īµ! Ī•Ī½Ī·Ī¼ĪµĻĻŽĻƒĻ„Īµ Ī¼Īµ ĻŒĻ„Ī±Ī½ Ļ†Ļ„Ī¬ĻƒĪµĻ„Īµ.ā€ (I'm sending the address to your phone. Just hand it to the driver and they should know what to do from there. Make sure you get it back so we can stay in contact. Be careful! Let me know when you have arrived.)

Aphrodite nodded, not really thinking about the concept that Pasi would not be able to see the gesture. The sound cut off and a ding startled her as something appeared on the screen. She showed it to Isabel like she was told to, hoping she would understand it. She didnā€™t really know how to work this thing and was afraid to do more with it. ā€Ī ĻĪ­Ļ€ĪµĪ¹ Ī½Ī± Ļ€Ī¬Ī¼Īµ ĪµĪ“ĻŽ. Ī˜Ī± Ī¼Ī±Ļ‚ Ļ†ĻĪæĪ½Ļ„ĪÆĻƒĪæĻ…Ī½ ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ ĪøĪ± ĪµĪÆĪ¼Ī±ĻƒĻ„Īµ Ī±ĻƒĻ†Ī±Ī»ĪµĪÆĻ‚. ĪžĪ­ĻĪµĪ¹Ļ‚ Ļ€ĪæĻ… ĪµĪÆĪ½Ī±Ī¹?ā€ (We have to go here. We will be taken care of and we will be safe. Do you know where it is?)

At this point Isabel barely registered the Greek. All she understood was ā€œhereā€ and ā€œsafeā€ when she looked at the address on the phone. It was enough. She gave Aphrodite a slight nod. Her wound was aching though. She rubbed it. It felt wet and warm. With bloodied fingers she slowly started to type in the address in the GPS. Midway she paused. Dizziness sent her vision spinning for a second. When it passed she finished it she put the car into gear and slammed down the accelerator.
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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by sly13
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sly13

Member Seen 2 mos ago


Hades


Hades looked around his throne room and could help but smile in satisfaction at everything before him. The rather overly sized dining table was moved out and placed before the throne room to accommodate their guests who slowly began to trickle in and converse amongst themselves. It was so rare that he had visitors to his realm for much other than quest, but any time he had to shove it to his brothers he would gladly take it.

Hades was ripped from his thoughts as he felt Persephone's hand touch his for a moment as she leaned closer ā€œHave you seen the Children dear?ā€ she asked in a worried tone. Hades turned to his wife with a reassuring smile ā€œI'm sure their fine Zag is probably justā€¦.ā€ Hades paused for a moment as his mind couldn't form the words he knew he was supposed to say. Something was wrong, something was deeply wrong and Hades could feel it in his core but couldn't quite put his finger exactly on it.

Almost on cue all noise in the hall ceased at once causing Hades head to snap to the side just in time to see the hall itself fade away to darkness. ā€œWhat is this? What is happening? Persephone?ā€ Startled Hades turned to his wife who seemed unfazed about the very underworld around them fading away. ā€œWhat are you confused about my love? You did this after all.ā€ As she finished her sentence her very body seemed to morph into rose petals before they withered and dispersed revealing the lifeless bodies of his two children. Hades, unable to control himself, collapsed to his knees as he hung over their body, a deep sorrow filling him as his whole body slouched in defeat.

Tickā€¦.. Tickā€¦.. Tickā€¦.. Tickā€¦..

Hades could feel his blood pressure rise with each tick that echoed throughout the empty void that surrounded him. Each progressive tick echoed louder and louder as they seemed to bounce off walls he couldn't see nor did he care to. He didn't care what the sound was or where it came from, all that mattered was his dead son laying before him. The ticking sound reached a crescendo that felt as though it was going to split his head wide open before it was cut short, being replaced by an eerie silence. Hades' eyes only moved as he saw a pair of shoes that seemed familiar come into view just on the other side of his. He was confused for a moment before a chill went down his spine when the being finally spoke.

ā€œNo need to put on this show for me. I know you're secretly glad to be rid of the brat once and for all.ā€

Hades immediately shot to his and took a step back in fear, something he couldn't remember having done in his long life. Standing before him was a perfect copy of himself down to the last detail. ā€œWho are you? Why are you here?ā€ Hades yelled through a shaky voice a far cry from his usual imposing self.

The copycat before him smiled wickedly upon hearing his question, ā€œYou already know the answer to those questions. That's why you still haven't responded to my last statement. You know it's true.ā€

ā€œAre you mad? That is my son. My only son!ā€ Hades finished as he pointed to the ground where his son once laid only to see it vanished. ā€œNo no where is he? Where is my son? Where have you taken him?ā€ Hades shouted, Anger and frustration filling his voice.

ā€œHe's gone and you know that.ā€
the figure stated as the two began to circle each other like predators waiting to pounce. ā€œI'll say it again, you're glad heā€™s gone, admit it. Now he doesn't pose a threat to your rule. You're only mad you didn't do it yourself.ā€ [/color]

Hades had heard enough as he rushed forward grabbing at the imposter's suit which merely faded away into smoke like the wearer before reforming a safe distance behind Hades. ā€œWhat monster do you take me for? You think I would kill my own son to keep power!?ā€ Hades screamed.

The figure before him brushed off his suit with an annoyed expression on his face. ā€œOf course I do. Your son would have usurped you just as you did to your father and he to his own father and so on.ā€ the wicked smile returned on the man's face causing Hades' stomach to twist.

ā€œI'm not my father. He was an evil tyrant of a man who cared nothing for anyone, not even his own children.ā€

ā€œAnd you're any different? You let two of your children die alone and you don't even know where the third one is. Who knows maybe your Precious wife will get it next. Though in her circumstance it would probably be a blessing rather than a tragedy.ā€ He paused for a second seeing Hades' face before continuing. ā€œDon't look at me like that, it's not as if the feeling is mutual between you two.ā€ As the figure finished his sentence Hades' hands passed through him once again having failed to grab the figure's throat.

ā€œDon't you dare talk of my wife in such a manner do you hear me! Ill rip you apart where you stand for such remarks.ā€

ā€œPlease, you know she could never truly love you. You're the very monster that kidnapped her from her own mother and friends and forced her to marry you and then trapped her inside your realm for half the year.ā€

ā€œI never forced her to marry me. The pomegranates were her idea. I have shown her nothing but respect and love since the day I met her.ā€ Hades snapped back attempting to disprove the statements of the doppelganger.

ā€œOnly after you trapped her in your castle and refused to give her up. What was she supposed to do? Deny one of the three Kings? Even now she only stays with you out of fear and dread of what might happen if she leaves. Not that I blame you of course it was the logical move. You saw something and you took it just as a god should. Just like I would have done.ā€

The void around them seemed to tremble at Hades' silent hurry with his eyes glowing a deep reddish orange, a tell-tale sign of his anger boiling over beyond the point of control. ā€œDon't you dare speak of my wife in such a way. You are not worthy to say her name. But I will make you apologize just before I end your pathetic existence.ā€

The figure before him simply rolled his eyes as a small laugh escaped his lips before an evil smile returned on the face he shared with Hades. [color=0072bc] ā€œIt's not like you could even if you tried. Even at the height of your power it took all of you backstabbers to seal me away in that prison.ā€

Tickā€¦.. Tickā€¦.. Tickā€¦.. Tickā€¦..

[color=0072bc]ā€œIt seems we're almost out of time but quite your tantrum. I expect such things from your brothers but i always figured you would be above it, you certainly act like you are. But we both know the truth, don't we son.ā€ As he spoke Kronus stepped towards his eldest son placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning close to his ear. ā€œYouā€¦.. areā€¦. Just ā€¦. like ā€¦.ME.ā€

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Hades awoke his head shot up from its resting position on his desk where he had apparently passed out. Though he had a raging headache Hades hand immediately went to the shoulder that his father had grabbed. As his hand rested on the shoulder he felt a chill run down his spine as the words he had just heard began to set in. Standing from his desk Hades began to exit his office before stopping just in the door to turn and look towards the large Grandfather clock that stood against the wall. ā€œI'm nothing like you.ā€ he said in a stern voice that hid the slightest bit of doubt before closing the door behind him.

Tickā€¦.. Tickā€¦.. Tickā€¦.. Tickā€¦..
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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Akayaofthemoon
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Akayaofthemoon

Member Seen 19 hrs ago


location: Pasiā€™s Apartment
interactions: Isabel, Aphrodite, Pasithea
mentions: Ares, Psyche, Hati @KZOMBI3



ā€˜You have reached your destination.ā€™

The GPS announced Isabelā€™s arrival at the apartment. To say she was entirely lucid at this point was a lie. Darkness was already creeping in from the edges of her vision. If a cop had seen her driving he wouldā€™ve tried to pull her over for sure. ā€œWeā€™re here.ā€ Isabel muttered as she opened her car door, forgetting entirely that her passenger didnā€™t speak English. Still, she managed to stand up and limp up towards the apartment building. This time she didnā€™t need to think about it, the concierge at the front desk was eyeing her with absolute suspicion. With tired eyes she scanned the intercom, searching for the right number. Eventually, she found the button behind which temporary respite laid. She pushed ā€“ and left a bloody mark - on the button calling Miss ChalarĆ³ste.

Aphrodite stared at the mark left behind, not saying anything for the sake of the womanā€™s pride but she was concerned for the mortal. Blood was never a good sign and she was pushing herself too hard, something was going to snapā€¦.well, more so than attacking other mortals. Either way, she wasnā€™t sure what they were waiting for by a random wall until that same wonderfully sweet but nervous voice appeared from the box instead of through the phone, though the strange language was getting annoying.
ā€I-Iā€™ll buzz you in, j-just take the elevator up.ā€
She waited for Isabel to guide her, sticking close behind and getting ready to catch the young woman if she keeled over because she was positive it was inevitable at this point. Stubbornness seemed to be a strong trait of Ares because Aphro was now convinced it no longer was from her side in the equation of their offspring while observing one that was not her own. The ride up was a silent one, the silence comfortable as they headed to see the one she viewed as her adoptive daughter even if she was related to her past paramour.

Many floors above, Pasithea was a nervous wreck at the sight through the camera of who had delivered Aphrodite to her. She didnā€™t like to deal with those of Aresā€™s blood and there was no missing it in the other womanā€™s face. She had spent enough time as a pretend mortal and immortal to know one a mile away. The woman looked weak though and she had gone through the trouble to reunite her with someone she viewed as precious. She couldnā€™t turn her away no matter how much she wished to. ā€™Iā€™m too nice for my own good. This is gonna be a freaking messā€¦, she groaned in her thoughts as she physically rubbed her hands over her face before hugging herself for comfort. She paced back and forth on repeat until she heard a knock, taking a deep breath to try and steel her nerves for what she was going to have to face.

Isabel rode the elevator clinging to staying conscious for dear life. Her breathing got shallow. In the elevator. She zipped up her coat, it was getting cold. Still, just a strong coffee would be enough to get her going. All she needed was some fluids and sheā€™d go back out to find her father. The elevator announced her and the goddessā€™ arrival on the right floor. Despite her state, she could still find the right door and knocked on it hard.

The door opened slowly, a soft smiling Pasithea on the other end as she moved to the side to allow them entrance. She understood that Aphrodite wouldnā€™t understand English at this point and simply gestured them inside, gasping as she was engulfed momentarily in a warm hug. One that caused a soft blush on her cheeks as she returned it gently before pulling back. ā€Ī§Ī±ĪÆĻĪæĪ¼Ī±Ī¹ Ļ€ĪæĻ… ĻƒĪµ Ī²Ī»Ī­Ļ€Ļ‰ ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ Ļ€Ī¬Ī»Ī¹.ā€ (Iā€™m glad to see you again.)
ā€ĪšĪ¹ ĪµĪ³ĻŽ ĪµĻƒĻ, ĪŗĻĪÆĪ½Īæ Ī¼ĪæĻ… Ī»ĪµĻ…ĪŗĻŒ.ā€
(And I you, my lily white.)
ā€Ī›ĪæĪ¹Ļ€ĻŒĪ½, Ļ€ĪæĪ¹Ī± ĪµĪÆĪ½Ī±Ī¹ Ī· Ī½Ī­Ī± ĻƒĪæĻ…... Ī³Ī½Ļ‰ĻĪ¹Ī¼ĪÆĪ±?ā€
(So, whoā€™s your new...acquaintance?)
ā€Ī ĪæĻ ĪµĪÆĪ½Ī±Ī¹ ĪæĪ¹ Ļ„ĻĻŒĻ€ĪæĪ¹ Ī¼ĪæĻ…! Ī Ī±ĻƒĪ¹ĪøĪ­Ī±, Ī±Ļ…Ļ„Ī® ĪµĪÆĪ½Ī±Ī¹ Ī· Ī™ĻƒĪ±Ī²Ī­Ī», ĪŗĻŒĻĪ· Ļ„ĪæĻ… Ī†ĻĪ·. Ī ĻĪ±Ī³Ī¼Ī±Ļ„Ī¹ĪŗĪ¬, Ī±Ī³Ī±Ļ€Ī·Ļ„Ī­, Ļ€ĻĪ­Ļ€ĪµĪ¹ Ī½Ī± Ī¾Ī­ĻĪµĪ¹Ļ‚ Ļ„Ī·Ī½ Ī±Ī½Ī¹ĻˆĪ¹Ī¬ ĻƒĪæĻ…ā€¦ā€
(Where are my manners! Pasithea, this is Isabel, daughter of Ares. Really, dear, you must know your nieceā€¦)

Pasithea lightly frowned, holding the bridge of her nose for a moment to get herself under control instead of stating the fact that she might know if Ares didnā€™t enjoy secrets so much, plus it wasnā€™t like she wanted to be a part of Aresā€™s life or his children or at least the more violent ones. It was at least good that it was confirmed on who she was dealing with and not just having a strong guess. She also didnā€™t want to debate with Aphrodite again about her half-brother. Instead, she moved around the pair, eyeing Isabel cautiously as she closed the door behind them before facing the other woman head on.ā€P-Pleasure to meet you, Isabel. N-Now, why donā€™t we all have a seat and t-then I will take a look at that leg of yours. W-We can have a cup of tea while I work.ā€, she said softly, trying to keep her powers in check as she tried to lead them to the living room. The sooner she took care of Isabel and got Aphrodite settled in, the sooner she could work out what to do next and see which of Aphroā€™s children might be right to get into contact with. They were going to want to know about their mothers sudden appearance. There was also someone else she needed to contact and the goddess before her wasnā€™t going to like it.

ā€œNo need.ā€ Isabel said as she held up her hand, in response for both the tea and the aid. If she sat down now she was fairly sure she wasnā€™t going to get up again in a few hours. That was unacceptable. Normally she wouldā€™ve looked Pasithea up and down and judged her before the woman even spoke. Right now she couldnā€™t even think what Pasithea was the goddess of. She was getting far too tired. Carrying along the weight of the gun didnā€™t help, so she pulled it out and tossed it on one of the raised surfaces around. ā€œI just needā€¦ a coffee.ā€

By now Isabel was gritting her teeth. Why was she feeling so tired right now!? It was weakness. She hated weakness. She was hating herself for getting weak. Her father never got weak. When he was home he would work out in the gym through the entire night. She heard him yelling through the pain of exertion. Why couldnā€™t she do that? She was his daughter! Instead, she felt the growing, aching pain in her leg breaking her down. Her own body was betraying her and she hated it for that.

Isabel might not have been able to look her up and down in judgment but that didnā€™t stop Pasithea from doing so to her. She was just as confusing as half of Ares' children but there was a trick she used when dealing with stubbornness. It wouldnā€™t take much from the look of it to lull the woman into sleep or at least to be a bit more compliant though she hated to use her powers without Isabelā€™s permission, but it was the only way that she would be able to help. Her half-brother never seemed to seek help when he needed it most and while it had advantages, it was also his downfall in many ways. Pasithea smiled, clasping her hands together with a small nod. ā€Coffee, of course. How do you like it?ā€, she asked as she let her powers flow freely, trying to let the poor woman relax as well as take control of the situation while letting Isabel feel like she was the one in control and not Pasi.

ā€Ī¤Ī¹ ĻƒĻ…Ī¶Ī·Ļ„Ī¬Ļ„Īµ ĪµĻƒĪµĪÆĻ‚ ĪæĪ¹ Ī“ĻĪæ?ā€
(What are you two prattling about?)
ā€Ī‘Ļ€Ī»Ī¬ ĻĻ‰Ļ„Ī¬Ļ‰ Ī³Ī¹Ī± Ļ„Ī¹Ļ‚ Ļ€ĻĪæĻ„Ī¹Ī¼Ī®ĻƒĪµĪ¹Ļ‚ Ļ€ĪæĻ„ĻŽĪ½. Ī˜Ī± Ļ€Ī¬Ļ‰ ĻƒĻ„Ī·Ī½ ĪŗĪæĻ…Ī¶ĪÆĪ½Ī± Ī³Ī¹Ī± Ī½Ī± Ļ„Ī± Ī¼Ī±ĻƒĻ„Ī¹Ī³ĻŽĻƒĻ‰ ĻŒĪ»Ī± Ī¼Ī±Ī¶ĪÆ, ĻŒĻƒĪæ ĪµĻƒĪµĪÆĻ‚ ĪæĪ¹ Ī“ĻĪæ ĪøĪ± ĪµĪÆĻƒĻ„Īµ ĻƒĻ„Īæ ĻƒĻ€ĪÆĻ„Ī¹.ā€
(Just asking about drink preferences. I'll go into the kitchen to whip everything together while you two make yourself at home.), Pasi answered smoothly, not taking her eyes off Isa as she did. She could hear Aphrodite moving to lounge on the couch, drifting into a relaxed and inviting position much like in the old days when she served the woman along with some of the other charities. She wished that it had just been the two of them, able to reminisce on the past and catch up without prying eyes or ears but things never seemed to be simple.

ā€œBlack.ā€ Isabel said in a meek voice. Something was happening. The tension that kept Isabel together began to ebb away. In its place came fragility. It felt as if she was getting sick. Was it one of the goddesses? Isabel was no stranger to being influenced by them. Even if it wasnā€™t them, the weird, siren call of the couch didnā€™t sing to her until she stepped into the apartment. ā€œThis was a mistake.ā€ She mumbled. Her eyelids felt heavy and her head was spinning.

ā€œI need to go.ā€ She managed to get out as she reached for her gun. This place wasnā€™t right. It wasnā€™t right. At this rate she wouldnā€™t be able to search for her father anymore. She needed to get out. With small steps she made her way toward the door.

Pasithea bit her lip, debating on if she should be the bigger person and stop her or if she should selfishly take the out she had been given. ā€™I must have something wrong with meā€¦ā€™, she thought to herself before getting ready to sign herself up for some punishment, possible gun shot and all. ā€I really donā€™t think you should be w-wandering around aimlessly in your c-current state. Frankly, I-Iā€™m surprised you made it here at all. Why not have some coffee and get into a better place physically?ā€, Pasi said, trying to convince the other to stay.

Aphrodite frowned, noticing the talking and being ignored yet again but most of all it was Isabel trying to leave. This girl was going to be the death of her or at least her patience. She could only imagine what Ares might say if she let his mortal daughter gallivant after him the way she looked now. He had always been protective of what was his after all. She stood up from her quite comfy position, marching beyond both women to stand in front of the door with her arms crossed. Her eyes narrowed at the two, her irritation coming to a full head and her patience thin. ā€Ī ĪæĻ Ī½ĪæĪ¼ĪÆĪ¶ĪµĪ¹Ļ‚ ĻŒĻ„Ī¹ Ļ€Ī±Ļ‚; Ī”ĪµĪ½ ĪøĪ± ĻƒĪµ ĪŗĪ±Ļ„Ī·Ī³ĪæĻĪ®ĻƒĻ‰ Ī³Ī¹Ī± Ļ„Īæ Ļ€ĪµĪÆĻƒĪ¼Ī± ĻƒĪæĻ… Ī“ĪµĻƒĻ€ĪæĪ¹Ī½ĪÆĻ‚. ĪœĻ€ĪæĻĪµĪÆ Ī½Ī± Ī¼Ī·Ī½ Ī¼Ļ€ĪæĻĪµĪÆĻ„Īµ Ī½Ī± Ī“ĪµĪÆĻ„Īµ Ļ„Ī·Ī½ ĪŗĪ±Ļ„Ī¬ĻƒĻ„Ī±ĻƒĪ· ĻƒĻ„Ī·Ī½ ĪæĻ€ĪæĪÆĪ± Ī²ĻĪÆĻƒĪŗĪµĻƒĻ„Īµ, Ī±Ī»Ī»Ī¬ Ī“ĪµĪ½ ĪµĪÆĪ¼Ī±Ī¹ ĪŗĪ±ĪøĻŒĪ»ĪæĻ… Ļ„Ļ…Ļ†Ī»ĻŒĻ‚. ĪžĪ­ĻĻ‰ ĻŒĻ„Ī¹ ĪøĪ­Ī»ĪµĪ¹Ļ‚ Ī½Ī± Ī²ĻĪµĪ¹Ļ‚ Ļ„ĪæĪ½ Ļ€Ī±Ļ„Ī­ĻĪ± ĻƒĪæĻ…, Ī±Ī»Ī»Ī¬ Ī“ĪµĪ½ ĪµĪÆĪ½Ī±Ī¹ Ī±Ļ…Ļ„ĻŒĻ‚ Īæ Ļ„ĻĻŒĻ€ĪæĻ‚. Ī¤ĻŽĻĪ± ĪŗĪ±ĪøĪÆĻƒĻ„Īµ, Ī±Ļ€ĪæĪ“ĪµĻ‡Ļ„ĪµĪÆĻ„Īµ ĪµĻ…Ī³ĪµĪ½Ī¹ĪŗĪ¬ ĻŒ,Ļ„Ī¹ Ļ€ĻĪæĻƒĻ†Ī­ĻĪµĻ„Ī±Ī¹ ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ Ī¼ĪµĻ„Ī¬ ĪøĪ± Ī“Ī¹Ī±Ī¼ĪæĻĻ†ĻŽĻƒĪæĻ…Ī¼Īµ Ī­Ī½Ī± ĻƒĻ‡Ī­Ī“Ī¹Īæ Ī“ĻĪ¬ĻƒĪ·Ļ‚.ā€ (Where do you think you are going? I will not be blamed for your stubbornness young lady. You might not be able to see the state you are in but I am far from blind. I know you wish to find your father but this is not the way. Now, have a seat, graciously take what is being offered, and then we will formulate a plan of action.), she stated, pausing for a moment before angerly adding, ā€Ī•Ļ€ĪÆĻƒĪ·Ļ‚, Ī±Ļ€Ī±Ī¹Ļ„ĻŽ Ī½Ī± Ī±Ļ€ĪæĻ†ĻĪ³ĪµĻ„Īµ ĪæĪ¹ Ī“Ļ…Īæ ĻƒĪ±Ļ‚ Ī½Ī± Ī¼Īµ Ī±Ļ†Ī®ĻƒĪµĻ„Īµ Ī­Ī¾Ļ‰ Ī±Ļ€ĻŒ Ļ„Ī·Ī½ ĪŗĪæĻ…Ī²Ī­Ī½Ļ„Ī±!ā€ (I also demand that you two refrain from leaving me out of the conversation!)

ā€œIā€™m fine!ā€ Isabel screamed. Something snapped in her. Someone else had called her out. She was weak and people could see it now. ā€œIā€™m fine! I donā€™t need help! I never needed help!ā€ What did this goddess know of her plight anyway!? She wouldnā€™t roam aimlessly. Sheā€™d find the clues. Sheā€™d find her father! How could she ever rest without finding her father!? She turned around only to see Aphrodite standing in front of the door with her arms crossed.

Isabel could only understand snippets of the Greek the goddess of beauty gave. She heard something about stubbornness, something about this not being how itā€™s done, taking a seat and finally, in an angry tone, something about not wanting to be left out of the conversation.

None of it mattered to Isabel right now. Stopping, waiting, it was all useless. None of it would do her father any good. ā€œOut of my way!ā€ She returned. Her tone was a mixture of anger and frustration. She took one step towards Aphrodite, ready to pull her out of the way if need be.

It broke the camelā€™s back.

Her leg buckled. Like a graceless sack of potatoes, Isabel collapsed. She let out a scream. Pain shocked her system. It was coming from everywhere now. She immediately began to cry. Then she screamed against the floor. It was a scream of pure frustration. But after that she bit through the pain. She grabbed the back of the couch and pulled herself up from the floor. Something as trivial as this pain would not defeat her. She couldnā€™t let it. How could she ever face her father if she knew she failed here? How could he ever be proud of her? How could he ever love her again? She was not going to give up, so she took another step.

But her legs refused to carry her. She fell again.

Aphrodite hadnā€™t flinched in the face of anger and frustration, standing her ground even before the failed step. She had fights with Ares, with her children, with other immortals and she was still here. She might not be the best physically but she knew how to get her point across and would willingly put herself in harms way for what she wanted. She watched the screaming in disapproval, chalking it up to the snap she had been waiting for and now let the tantrum ensue as she would a toddler. If she had just listened to her in the first place, she wouldnā€™t be in this position now. Aphro wished to have a seat and relax once more while being spoiled by Pasithea but she wasnā€™t about to trust Isabel to think straight and not attempt to leave again if she got enough energy to do so which had Aphro planted firmly at the door, leaning against it while waiting to see the next outcome.

Pasithea on the other hand was more empathetic and felt herself ache at watching the scene unfold before her. She hated seeing Aphrodite upset, her features so much more dazzling when she smiled and also one less person being smited was always a plus because that was the look she normally gave before trouble started. She also hated seeing someone push themselves to the brink and for Ares no less but it just showed that the wilted woman before her thought that highly of her father and loved him dearly. She couldnā€™t fault that. She loved her father just as dearly and would face any danger or trail to help him but she also knew when to get help. It was a surprise that something had happened to Ares but Aphrodite had promised to fill her in on the details of her return which should include the extra information. For now though, she knelt down beside the woman slightly crumpled on the floor, gently taking her arm with strong guiding hands as she looped it over her shoulder to help Isabel stand before focusing them to move toward the couch. She inwardly cringed at the blood stain she might have to deal with but that was a future her problem. Pasi wasnā€™t sure if she was going to have a fight either but she was stronger than she looked, at least when going up against a wounded mortal or part mortal.

The mortal didnā€™t resist. Couldnā€™t resist. At least not physically. The pain had finally reduced her to a sobbing mess. She felt useless. Weak. Slow. Everything she hated in life. Everything she knew her father hated too. ā€œI-I have to.. I have to..ā€ she kept saying, breathless. ā€œI canā€™t beā€¦ useless. Weak. Dad.. is still.. Missing.ā€ But then she was laid out on the couch and the darkness took her.

Aphrodite was relieved when Isabel was finally out for the count, lazily pushing off the closed door to resume her previous lounge position as she watched Pasithea flitter about. The rustling in the other room had the goddess figuring that the sweet flower was preparing refreshments and working out each step to keep the two safe and relaxed. When she entered once more, she knelt before Isabel, working on the wound if she had any thoughts on the matter but she felt her eyes heavy. The room around her was already wavering between reality and illusion, the other goddesses power pulling at her to the past. It was much more pleasant to let herself relax into sleep than re-live a possible nightmare.

Pasithea washed the blood off her hands, drying them with a hand towel in her kitchen as she turned off the screaming kettle with a frown. She had stitched up Isabel once more, the fresh stitching having come undone which had been the mortal's ultimate issue and now both her guests were sleeping. She had hidden the gun that Isabel brought, not wanting it used upon her if Isa woke up in good shape and bad mood. Ares could be in trouble and one of her visitors was concerned enough that Pasi couldnā€™t just ignore it. There were few she knew to be on the case of the murders and some not the biggest fan of the war god or those she didnā€™t know. If the disappearance was part of all this, then someone needed to know and be on the lookout. She had to be careful that they wouldnā€™t come here either as she wanted to keep Aphrodite safe.

She pulled out her phone, biting her lip as she looked at the unanswered message from yesterday and debated if it was worth texting again. Would he answer? Would he ignore her? Pasi shook her head, not letting fear get in the way or convince her not to help Ares. She was scared of him but he was still her blood.

To: Hati
I wasnā€™t sure who to contact or what to doā€¦Ares is missing. I usually would go to Athena for this but I canā€™t risk her showing up here. Do you think you could check in on this? See what you can dig up? A woman named Isabel showed up here and is worried for him. I might have used my powers and Iā€™m not sure what she will do when she wakes up.
Sent


That out of the way, she set to dial a number this time and knowing the goddess in her living room was going to be extremely upset if she found out what she was planning. Pasi waited on the line, waiting for the kind and gentle feminine voice on the other end. ā€P-Psyche, I need a huge favor a-and Iā€™m apologizing in advance for having to ask but this is important.ā€
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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Akayaofthemoon
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Akayaofthemoon

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Connections

location: Pasitheaā€™s Apartment
interactions: Aphrodite | Pasithea | Psyche | Eros



Her blue eyes turned frigid as glaciers, glaring daggers as she stiffly sat with rage boiling just under the surface while trying to show some semblance of maintaining a regal composure. She scanned her gaze to the betraying goddess, the sweet girl unable to face her because of the crime she had committed against her person. How dare she bring this lowsome woman before her?! The one that had turned her followers' heads and made them abandon her shrines, resending their offerings to bestow them on a falsity. The one that had been painted as the Goddess of Beauty and Love in human form or by some miracle believed she had been the one to bless such a conniving harlot. This vile trickster who stole her beloved sonā€™s heart and then instantly betrayed his trust. The one who burned him. The one who couldnā€™t even manage to complete her challenges to earn forgiveness without weakly gathering the sympathy of others to cheat and gain immortality. Psyche had never been good enough to be with her son and she couldnā€™t stand to be in her presence even if they were not speaking. Aphrodite couldnā€™t stand it any longer, a strict and harsh tone laced with a tinge of hurt was the voice greeting Pasithea as she made her displeasure known.

ā€Ī ĻŽĻ‚ Ļ„ĪæĪ»Ī¼Ī¬Ļ‚ Ī½Ī± Ļ†Ī­ĻĪµĪ¹Ļ‚ Ī±Ļ…Ļ„ĻŒ Ļ„Īæ Ļ€Ī±ĻĪ¬ĻƒĪ¹Ļ„Īæ Ī¼Ļ€ĻĪæĻƒĻ„Ī¬ Ī¼ĪæĻ…! Ī ĪæĻ„Ī­ Ī“ĪµĪ½ Ļ€ĪÆĻƒĻ„ĪµĻ…Ī± ĻŒĻ„Ī¹ Ī®ĻƒĪæĻ…Ī½ Ī¹ĪŗĪ±Ī½ĻŒĻ‚ Ī³Ī¹Ī± Ļ„Ī­Ļ„ĪæĪ¹Ī± Ļ€ĻĪæĪ“ĪæĻƒĪÆĪ±. Ī£Īµ Ī­Ļ‡ĪµĪ¹ Ī±Ī»Ī»Ī¬Ī¾ĪµĪ¹ Ļ„ĻŒĻƒĪæ Ļ€ĪæĪ»Ļ Īæ Ļ‡ĻĻŒĪ½ĪæĻ‚?ā€
(How dare you bring this parasite in front of me! I never thought you were capable of such betrayal. Has time changed you that much?)
ā€ĪœĪµ ĻŒĪ»Īæ Ī¼ĪæĻ… Ļ„Īæ ĻƒĪµĪ²Ī±ĻƒĪ¼ĻŒā€”ā€œ
(With all respectā€”), Psyche started, trying to come to Pasitheaā€™s defense and spare her some wrath, only to be cut off abruptly as Aphroditeā€™s head and attention snapped to her suddenly.
ā€Ī”ĪµĪ½ ĻƒĪæĻ… Ī¼Ī¹Ī»ĪæĻĻƒĪ±! ĪšĻĪ¬Ļ„Ī± Ļ„Ī· Ī³Ī»ĻŽĻƒĻƒĪ± ĻƒĪæĻ… ĪµĪŗĻ„ĻŒĻ‚ Ī±Ī½ ĻƒĪæĻ… Ī¶Ī·Ļ„Ī·ĪøĪµĪÆ.ā€
(I wasn't speaking to you! Hold your tongue unless asked.), came her words, vicious and dripping with venom. If looks could kill, Psyche was sure she would be dead and buried. It caused a chill down her spine, remembering all the attempts at her death during the challenges put forth by Aphrodite. Eros had kept her going then, made her fight on because he was worth dying for. Now, there was no one around to fight for and she felt far less brave than she once had when facing this woman.

Pasithea sighs as she hugged herself, looking pitifully sad and awkward by the encounter happening in her home. She knew this wouldnā€™t be easy for either of the goddesses but this was getting out of hand. She let some of her powers flow once more, Psyche seeming to take hold of that to smooth her frayed nerves while Aphro seemed more irritated, resisting against it. She figured it might be showing her a more negative side of things which was a problem.
ā€Ī Ī±ĻƒĪ¹ĪøĪ­Ī±, Ī±Ļ€Ī±Ī½Ļ„Ī¬ Ļ„ĻŽĻĪ± ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ Ī¼Ī·Ī½ Ļ€ĻĪæĻƒĻ€Ī±ĪøĪ®ĻƒĪµĪ¹Ļ‚ Ī¾Ī±Ī½Ī¬ Ī½Ī± Ī¼ĪæĻ… Ī±Ļ€ĪæĻƒĻ€Ī¬ĻƒĪµĪ¹Ļ‚ Ļ„Ī·Ī½ Ļ€ĻĪæĻƒĪæĻ‡Ī®.ā€
(Pasithea, answers now and do not try to distract me again.)
ā€ ĪŒĻƒĪæ ĪŗĪ¹ Ī±Ī½ Ī¼Ī¹ĻƒĪµĪÆĻ‚ Ī½Ī± Ļ„Īæ Ī±ĪŗĪæĻĻ‚, Ļ‡ĻĪµĪ¹Ī¬Ī¶ĪµĻƒĪ±Ī¹ Ļ„Ī· Ī²ĪæĪ®ĪøĪµĪ¹Ī¬ Ļ„Ī·Ļ‚. Ī— ĪØĻ…Ļ‡Ī® Ī®Ļ„Ī±Ī½ Ī±Ļ€ĻĻŒĪøĻ…Ī¼Ī· Ī½Ī± Ī²ĪæĪ·ĪøĪ®ĻƒĪµĪ¹ ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ Ļ€Ī±ĻĻŒĪ»Ī± Ī±Ļ…Ļ„Ī¬ Ī¬Ļ†Ī·ĻƒĪµ Ļ„Ī¹Ļ‚ Ī“Ī¹Ī±Ļ†ĪæĻĪ­Ļ‚ Ļ„Ī·Ļ‚ ĻƒĻ„Ī·Ī½ Ī¬ĪŗĻĪ· Ī³Ī¹Ī± Ī½Ī± ĪµĪÆĪ½Ī±Ī¹ ĪµĪ“ĻŽ.ā€
(As much as you will hate to hear this, you need her help. Psyche was reluctant to assist and still put her differences aside to be here.)
ā€Ī”ĪµĪ½ ĪøĪ­Ī»Ļ‰ ĪæĻĻ„Īµ Ļ‡ĻĪµĪ¹Ī¬Ī¶ĪæĪ¼Ī±Ī¹ Ļ„ĪÆĻ€ĪæĻ„Ī± Ī±Ļ€ĻŒ Ī±Ļ…Ļ„Ī®Ī½.ā€
(I want nor need anything from her)
Ī˜Ī­Ī»ĪµĻ„Īµ Ī½Ī± Ļ€ĻĪæĪŗĪ±Ī»Ī­ĻƒĪµĻ„Īµ Ļ„Ī±Ī»Ī±Ī¹Ļ€Ļ‰ĻĪÆĪ± ĻƒĻ„Ī± Ļ€Ī±Ī¹Ī“Ī¹Ī¬ ĻƒĪ±Ļ‚? ĪŸĪ¹ Ī¬Ī½ĪøĻĻ‰Ļ€ĪæĪ¹ ĪµĪ“ĻŽ Ī“ĪµĪ½ Ī¼Ī¹Ī»Ī¬Ī½Īµ Ļ„Ī· Ī³Ī»ĻŽĻƒĻƒĪ± Ī¼Ī±Ļ‚. Ī˜Ī± Ļ„ĪæĻ…Ļ‚ Ī±Ī½Ī±Ī³ĪŗĪ¬ĻƒĪµĪ¹Ļ‚ Ī½Ī± ĻƒĪæĻ… ĪµĻĪ¼Ī·Ī½ĪµĻĻƒĪæĻ…Ī½? Ī‘Ļ†Ī¹ĪµĻĻŽĪ½ĪæĻ…Ī½ ĪµĪ³Ļ‰Ī¹ĻƒĻ„Ī¹ĪŗĪ¬ Ļ„Īæ Ļ‡ĻĻŒĪ½Īæ Ļ„ĪæĻ…Ļ‚ ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ Ļ†Ī±ĪÆĪ½ĪæĪ½Ļ„Ī±Ī¹ Ī±Ī“ĻĪ½Ī±Ī¼ĪæĪ¹ Ī¼Ļ€ĻĪæĻƒĻ„Ī¬ Ļ„ĪæĻ…Ļ‚? Ī— ĻˆĻ…Ļ‡Ī® ĪøĪ± ĻƒĪæĻ… Ī“ĻŽĻƒĪµĪ¹ Ī³Ī½ĻŽĻƒĪ· Ļ‡Ļ‰ĻĪÆĻ‚ Ī±Ī³ĻŽĪ½Ī±.ā€
(Do you want to cause a hassle for your children? The people here do not speak our language. Are you going to force them to interpret for you? Selfishly take up their time and appear weak before them? Psyche will give you the knowledge without struggle.)

Aphro hated this. Pasi was right but she hated to admit it. She would do anything for her children. They were the joys of her life. They should be happy and surprised to see her but if she could speak this new language for them, that would make things easier. Her lips turned to a thin line as she shook her head slowly to answer the questions set before her, relenting to the words spoken.
ā€Ī©ĻĪ±ĪÆĪ±, ĪøĪ± Ī“ĪµĻ‡Ļ„ĻŽ Ī³Ī¹Ī± Ļ‡Ī¬ĻĪ· Ļ„Ļ‰Ī½ Ļ€Ī±Ī¹Ī“Ī¹ĻŽĪ½ Ī¼ĪæĻ….Ī¤Ī¹ Ļ€ĻĪ­Ļ€ĪµĪ¹ Ī½Ī± ĪŗĪ¬Ī½Ļ‰?ā€
(Fine, I will accept for my children's sake. What do I need to do?)
ā€ĪšĪ»ĪµĪÆĻƒĪµ Ļ„Ī± Ī¼Ī¬Ļ„Ī¹Ī± ĻƒĪæĻ… ĪŗĪ±Ī¹ ĪøĪ± Ī±Ī½Ī±Ī»Ī¬Ī²Ļ‰ Ļ„Ī± Ļ…Ļ€ĻŒĪ»ĪæĪ¹Ļ€Ī±. ĪšĪ¬Ļ„Ļ‰ Ī±Ļ€ĻŒ Ļ„Īæ Ī¬Ī³ĻĻ…Ļ€Ī½Īæ Ī²Ī»Ī­Ī¼Ī¼Ī± Ļ„Ī·Ļ‚ Ī Ī±ĻƒĪ¹ĪøĪ­Ī±Ļ‚ Ļ†Ļ…ĻƒĪ¹ĪŗĪ¬...Ī³Ī¹Ī± Ī½Ī± ĪµĪÆĻƒĪ±Ī¹ Ī®ĻƒĻ…Ļ‡ĪæĻ‚.ā€
(Close your eyes and I will handle the rest. Under Pasithea's watchful gaze, of course...so you can be at ease.), she said softly, knowing full well that the goddess before her was going to flip her lid in a moment. Psyche could only hope that whichever child Pasi called earlier would arrive before their mother sent her to a hospital.

Aphro shot another distrustful gaze before closing her eyes, fingers curling into tight fists to control herself. She was just glad that Isa was asleep for now, not wanting to show the fragile child this side of her and also because the other needed the rest. It was probably the only reason she hadnā€™t fully screamed or shouted at this point. All she could hear was her own heartbeat in her ears, ringing as she worked to keep her frayed nerves and rage in check while waiting for the unknown at how to fix her current issue involving speech. The shuffling of feet distracted her for a moment, making her eyes almost open when a brush of lips pressed lightly against her own causing her to freeze for a split second, her mind clicking two and two together. The next moment, she yanked away as her eyes flew open, bringing up her hand and slapping the goddess in front of her across the face with her full strength before standing to tower over the woman now gripping her cheek in pain. She hadnā€™t even noticed the lack of Pasi behind the couch anymore or the fact that the front door was open as she focused in on Psyche. ā€How dare you!ā€

There was silence from the doorway, until footsteps made their way across the wooden floor, stopping next to Aphrodite. A hand gripped her forearm and pulled it away, lest she try to harm the goddess again. The smile that Eros had worked so hard to plaster on his face had been wiped away, instead replaced by something difficult to define.

"...Mother?" Words finally managed to spill from his lips as he tried his best to avoid glancing in Psyche's direction. He daren't look and risk seeing that which he had always feared. It ended with him staring at his dear mother; irritation, confusion, and most of all sadness maring his usually good-humored features. "Iā€¦" He paused. He didn't know what to say. The temptation to just run was there but the dark haze that had clouded his mind since his encounter with Phobos lingered, making his clothes feel as heavy as lead and his legs as if in chains. "Why are you--what are you--what the hell are you doing?!" He finally blurted out, failing to acknowledge that she may prefer him to be speaking in greek. "Pasithea said you've only been back a day and you're already slapping people?" The god of love shook his head, trying hard to ignore the slight shakiness in his hand and the feeling of his heart beating uncomfortably fast.

Aphrodite was stunned to say the least when the hand wrapped around her forearm was that of Eros. She should have known wherever Psyche was that he would not be far behind which made the situation look negatively in her favor and once again made the other goddess look like a saint. Here she was being scolded when his wife had just kissed her! Sure, most of the Greeks were not very honorable when it came to spouses but she always thought these two had been (much to her annoyance since she couldnā€™t use that option in the past to cause jealousy or break them apart). She wanted to throw accusations, cause a fuss and scream but she knew it would most likely fall on deaf ears though that isn't why she didnā€™t speak. She looked at her sonā€™s face, seeing the mixed emotions but honing in on the sadness there. Ignoring his questions, she cupped his face gently and asked softly, ā€Who brought you such sadness? Was that my fault?ā€

Psyche couldnā€™t say she wasnā€™t prepared for retaliation but damn did it smart. She was probably going to have a nice mark for awhile with how bad it stung. She thought the footsteps were Pasi getting between them but when she glanced up and saw the shocked woman by the front door who instantly looked over apologetically at being distracted, she realized it was whoever Pasi called. The voice that spoke had her heart racing with only one word, butterflies dancing in her stomach, and hope gripping hold of her as she laid on Eros, the closest she had been to him since the fall. She almost thought he was an illusion, a hallucination from Pasitheaā€™s power that had just kicked in late but then Aphrodite had reacted to his presence. He was real. He was right there and yet he still felt so far away, as if there was a wall between them. She wanted to get up, force him to look at her, demand the answers to the questions she had been longing to ask. She couldnā€™t bring herself to do it though, already feeling like she had ruined what was supposed to be a happy reunion with his dear mother. Psyche sat there, holding her cheek while her eyes never left the back of his form while praying just for a glance at what Aphro was seeing. She wanted to be the one to chase away his sorrows, to ask those important questions on who she should confront but it wasnā€™t her place. It hurt to think it but what else was there to think when yourā€¦well, was he still her husband if he ran at the sight of her. She bit her lip, trying desperately not to let tears build up or fall even if she could blame them on the pain. She had not let Aphrodite see her cry and she wasnā€™t about to start now, even if the ache in her heart was worse than anything else in this moment.

Eros blinked as he felt his mother cup his face, his eyes darting to the floor. "Nothingā€¦nothing is wrong." He lied, though by the time he looked up again he had managed to smile. It was a smile that always eased her concerns and could charm even the most stone-hearted of men. "You worry too much as always. I was just surprised to see you here, though I'm so glad you are!" Eros chimed as happily as he could, taking her hands between his own and squeezing them tightly. It was his duty as a son to appear joyful, even if all he really wanted to do was sleep for a long long time. Since he was born that had been his role. To please his mother, though he had not always been able to manage even that. The thought made him acutely aware once more of how close to Psyche he was and his eyebrows furrowed as he realized that she was probably in pain. Without turning to face her, he addressed her, his voice monotone for worry that it might tremble.

"Are you okay Psyche? Perhaps Pasithea may have something to ease the painā€¦"

ā€If you are sure, my sweet! I have missed you so much and Iā€™m so glad I was still able to give you a wonderful surprise! I did not realize that I would be seeing you so soon.ā€, Aphro smiled brightly, happy that her son was by her side. She wished all of her children could have been here but she was delighted one of them had appeared. She squeezed his hands back, trying to reassure him of her presence. She loved all her children but it was not surprising to most that the son before her had always been the closest to her. They were just similar and he had always been more on her side than some of her other children. She tried not to frown at the sudden concern for Psyche but it was fair she guessed. She had slightly broken the promise to not harm or interfere when it came to the other goddess after all.

Psyche was startled at being addressed, feeling tongue tied at the first conversation they were going to have and yet, she felt crushed. Tears built up in her eyes that she desperately tried to hold back at the monotone voice, how he was still unable to look at her, and finally asking Pasithea to help about the pain. Her cheek didnā€™t hurt anymore or at least she couldnā€™t feel it compared to the emotional pain in that moment. ā€Iā€™ll be fine.ā€, she replied weakly, trying to convince herself but also realizing that or more accepting that this was over. Whatever they had was gone at least for him. She had waited for so long and had gotten an answer without having to ask. She should have listened to Fen. She should have given up sooner and just found someone else to love butā€¦she hadnā€™t wanted to, she still didnā€™t butā€¦it wasnā€™t her choice to make.

Pasi knew the moment she saw Psycheā€™s expression that she had messed up. She had been so worried about keeping Aphrodite happy and honestly, she didnā€™t know much about the lives of Ares children. She had assumed
they were still a thing even with Eros' bizarre business. ā€I-Iā€™m sure that there is s-something I can do. Donā€™t worry!ā€, she answered also, trying to soothe over the awkward situation. She had a feeling she was going to be supporting someone falling apart soon while also looking after a patient that didnā€™t want to be one. This was not shaping up to be a pretty day. Pasi quickly scrambled to the kitchen, taking out an ice pack from the freezer and carefully wrapping it in one of her clean dish towels before returning to Psyche, offering up the item to help soothe the ache. ā€Thank you.ā€, she said in a dazed tone, trying to keep it from shaking with the emotional strain of holding back tears before offering up a light smile as she pressed the cold compressed to her cheek.

Eros couldnā€™t help it. It had been centuries since heā€™d even been in the same room as Psyche and despite that, he still could not resist the urge to make sure that she was okay. He glanced in her direction, noting the tears that were welling up in her eyes and how beauti-- he looked away before he could dwell on that thought anymore than he already had. It would be too painful. He couldnā€™tā€¦wouldnā€™t risk encouraging even a modicum of hope inside of him. Making sure to still keep his smile light, he gently steered his mother away from the other two goddesses, hoping that they would be out of earshot.

ā€œI sort of assumed you would go to father if you ever woke up.ā€ He replied honestly, ā€œThough, Iā€¦I donā€™t understand why Psyche is here.ā€ Even saying her name tugged at his heart and the images that had flashed through his mind at Phobosā€™ hands flared back into life. ā€œOr why you were kissing her.ā€ He whispered, a pout almost forming on his lips. Itā€™s not that he was jealous that his mother had gotten to kiss his wifeā€¦ex wife? But well, yeah he was jealous. ā€œNot that I have anything against kissing people. Kissing people is great. Who doesnā€™t like kissing?ā€ He was rambling. Stop thinking about kissing Eros. ā€œBut, wellā€¦it was pretty weird.ā€

Aphrodite raised a brow at his words, pouting with a hint of disgust as she crossed her arms. ā€You act as if I was the one to kiss her. If you want answers ask your wife because I had nothing to do with that display. As for going to your father, I did but then he did what he does best and had better things to do. I was suddenly greeted by his newest child in the morning and she stated that not only is your father now missing but it wasnā€™t safe at his place. This was the safest place I could think of without spoiling the surprise for all my children. She had a prior injury and is currently down for the count in Pasiā€™s room now.ā€

A look of bewilderment crossed across Erosā€™ face. ā€œNewest child? What are you talking about?ā€ His mind ticked over trying to figure out what the hell his mother was on about. The part about his father going missing seemed to concern him less. Newest childā€¦newest childā€¦wait, did Psyche have a child?! Was she married? Was it to a god or a mortal? All these thoughts ran through his head, pushing past the heavy leaden feeling and spurring him into action. He took hold of his mothers shoulders and shook her dramatically. ā€œTell me!ā€ He pleaded desperately, apparently having completely missed the part about the child being his fathers. ā€œAnd I canā€™t speak to her! You have to do it. Please please please!ā€

Her eyes widened at the sudden desperation in her sonā€™s voice, not understanding why he was so stirred up about a new half sister. Also, when had he ever not been able to speak to his wifeā€¦well, except after the betrayal of trust. ā€What in the underworld has gotten into you? I didnā€™t think a new half sister would cause so much concern. Also, why do I have to speak with her?! The less we talk the better.ā€

Oh. A half-sister. Yep, that made more sense. His father had no qualms about keeping secrets from them all, so it wasnā€™t exactly a surprise. ā€œSheā€™s here?ā€ He said curiously, peeking around her shoulder. ā€œIs she hot? Wait, no, I meanā€¦is she nice?ā€ As much as the Greeks had blurred such boundaries, he was well aware that it was no longer socially acceptable. Heā€™d probably need to make a note to tell his mother of this. Biting down on his lip, he once again steered Aphrodite even further away from the others. Spotting a closet door, he opened it and squeezed them both inside, letting out a small ā€˜owā€™ when a mop handle fell on his head. He didnā€™t want to admit this to his mother, knowing how much she would likely bask in the news. But he knew he had to. Steeling himself, he took a deep breath. ā€œI havenā€™t spoken to Psyche for two millenia. Well, I guess except for a moment agoā€¦ā€ He admitted sullenly, ā€œSo I was thinking maybeā€¦you couldā€¦do it for me?ā€ Eros shot her a hesitant smile.

ā€She isā€¦very much your fatherā€™s child.ā€, Aphro answered in regard to Isa, feeling more confused by her son as the seconds passed. She felt like she was missing a key piece to the puzzle. It wasnā€™t long before she (unimpressed mind you) found herself in a cramped cabinet, led there by Eros and completely confused to the point of it all. She waited patiently, clearly wanting an explanation and boy was it worth the wait. She didnā€™t even bother to hide the pure delight and happiness about his statement. ā€That is simply wonderful! Iā€™m so glad to hear you came to your senses even if it was when I wasnā€™t aroā€¦wait, why do you want me to speak to her? What is it that you intend to make me discuss with her?ā€, she questioned as a frown slowly etched its way onto her features.

ā€œOh I donā€™t know. How she is, what sheā€™s been up to, has she met anyone, is she marriedā€¦ā€ He trailed off, there were too many questions to be asked and so little time. The change in his demeanor was dramatic but the love god had always been subject to such whims. ā€œAnd I didnā€™t have any sense to come to! No, I mean, I just figured the arrow's magic wouldnā€™t be working anymore, so she wouldnā€™t love me after the fall. And I couldnā€™t risk her telling me that. It would be a disaster!ā€ The words, which he had never spoken to anyone, spilled out of his mouth like water over a cliff. It showed how much he trusted his mother, even when she delighted in his pain. Unbidden, his eyes began to well up with tears, emotions that he had tried so hard to repress coming to the forefront of his mind & heart. ā€œI know you never liked her but I need to know if sheā€¦ā€ Eros swallowed, his mouth and throat feeling uncomfortably dry. ā€œIf she hates meā€¦ā€

Her heart clenched much to her frustration as she watched her baby boy almost shed tears. She had never been able to handle his sadness let alone any of her other children and she wouldnā€™t be a love goddess without noticing the feeling that still was there. It annoyed her to pieces. Aphro couldnā€™t stand the partner he chose but she wasnā€™t going to make him suffer more. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and nodded in defeat. ā€Fineā€¦.you know I canā€™t stand to see you like thisā€¦you owe me.ā€, she replied, slamming open the door in irritation before heading back into the room, taking a seat and crossing her legs as she stared straight at the other goddess.

ā€My son has brought it to my attention that I actedā€¦out of place. I believe we have once again gotten off on the wrong footā€¦ā€, she said almost through gritted teeth and curled fists. Why did he have to ask such things of her? ā€Perhaps, we canā€¦start over. I know, why donā€™t you tell me how you have been? What have you been up to? Any grandchildren I should know about?ā€

To say she felt like she was walking on thin ice would be an understatement. First the two just randomly disappear, leaving Pasi and herself confused, both conversing between themselves and then Aphro just returns alone. Did Eros run again? Wait, did he go out a window? That was the least of her worries though. She felt like there was something deceptive and manipulative in the goddess before her. Had Eros not explained their situation? She would have thought Aphrodite would be tickled pink to not have to deal with her anymore. She awkwardly stared back for a moment and debated on if it was her place to inform her. Maybe she already knew and was just ready to rub it in her face while her son was out of the room. Yeah, that sounded about right. ā€You donā€™t have to worry about grandchildren, at least not from meā€¦Eros and I havenā€™t been together for quite awhile. Iā€™ve been dealing with it and keeping myself busy with my bakery.ā€

ā€Iā€™m so sorry to hear that.ā€, the false concern and the little smirk saying otherwise and ignoring the other comments to her questions. Hearing the news from her son had been nice but it was even sweeter to hear it confirmed by the one she despised. She took her earlier discarded cup of tea and took a sip. ā€Anyone else filled his place yet? Human hearts are so fickle after all and easy to sway. Oh right, you are no longer mortal. I still forget at times.ā€

Aphro always did know how to grate her nerves and she wasnā€™t going to sit around and be insulted. ā€Why donā€™t you say what you really want to say? If you are questioning my loyalty yet again then you should know better by now. No, there isnā€™t another and there has been no other.ā€

ā€Oh? So you donā€™t hate my son?ā€

ā€Are you seriously asking me that? Are you losing your touch?!ā€

ā€Perhaps I want to hear it from your own lips.ā€

ā€I could never. No matter how he feels about me.ā€, practically choking on her words. The spell was broken, Eros was free to do as he wanted and be with who he wanted. He could actually love another instead of a false love they shared. It had been real for her so the heartbreak she had alone was worse. At least he didnā€™t have to suffer like she did.

Aphrodite rolled her eyes, noting how these two were complete morons. It wasnā€™t her place to work it out for them and she sure as hell didnā€™t want them to. She could lie, just say that the goddess hated him and move on but she couldnā€™t crush her son in such a way. It was irritating that this leech refused to let up. It was even more so that the spell was gone and yet still the two were fawning. ā€Excuse me, I think Iā€™ll go check on Isa.ā€, with that exiting the room, planning on using that lie to inform her son if he hadnā€™t been listening in.

ā€Are you alright?ā€

ā€Iā€™m fine, maybe I should go. I did what I came here to do and I think I am just making things worse.ā€

The words were barely audible from Erosā€™ place in the broom closet. And if anyone had peered down the corridor, they wouldā€™ve seen the god grappling with a set of precariously stacked boxes that were threatening to topple him to the ground. With a foot and an arm keeping them in place however, he managed to hear most of the conversation. His heart felt like a train thrumming through his body and for a moment, all he could too was stand there in the ridiculous position he had adopted, frozen in place. She didnā€™t hate himā€¦she didnā€™t hate him but that did not mean she loved him. Would it be worse for her to feel nothing at all? To not care one way or the other? He was suddenly hit by a new, even worse fear. Ambivalence. It would make senseā€¦for he had once been the monster that had stolen her away from her home and family. She had simply put up with his presence at first, and had only truly begun to love him after the mishap with the arrow.

It all made sense. Eros felt himself trembling and with that the boxes came crashing down on top of him. He let out a yelp as he fell to the ground, a moment of silence following before he groaned in pain. ā€œFuckā€¦ā€ He muttered to himself as he lay there, willing himself to move but not daring to go in the same room as Psyche. It was pointless though. He was so dumb to even expect her to hate him. He had been afterall, destined to never fall in love or be loved. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Psyche hadnā€™t even made it a step towards the exit as she heard the sound of something loudly crashing which caused her curiosity but at the yelp followed by a groan of pain had her completely forgetting what she had been about to do. Fear shot through her, her legs moving automatically as she roughly shoved past Aphrodite with little to no care as she rushed in the direction of the sound. Pasi quickly caught Aphro, making sure she didnā€™t tumble into the wall or slip more than she had in the startling action.

ā€Eros!ā€, Psyche gasped, seeing him laying there unmoving and quickly kneeling down next to him before removing some of the boxes in a panic. ā€Are you alright!?! Are you hurt?! What happened!? Can you move?ā€, she asked, not really giving him time to respond as she checked him over with gentle touches before leaning over him so she could look at his face for injury but froze. Finally registering that not only had she invaded his personal space but touched him with all the familiarity she had been granted in the past and now was very close in a tempting way or at least tempting for her. She blushed brightly, nervously leaning back so her face wasnā€™t as close to his own. She tried to take her eyes off him but was unable to do so just like when she had first betrayed his wishes and gazed upon his beauty as he slept. It had been so long since she saw his face, she had almost forgotten how enchanting he was. Her heart went into double time, her hands shaking where they still sat on his form and unable to move, and bit her lip gently to keep from embarrassing herself more. He didnā€™t have feelings for her anymore and here she was fawning on him. Psyche was trying every second not to draw him into an embrace, kiss him passionately, and beg to give her another chance.

Eros never blushed. He rarely, if ever, had reason to feel embarrassed. But in that moment he did and his cheeks heated up in a way that was entirely foreign to him, and which matched the goddesses' own. He found himself staring up at Psyche, his gaze scanning over a face that had once been so familiar and which still had a hold on his heart. His skin felt as if on fire from her simple touches. Touches that had been no more than a kind person making sure he was not hurt.

Pushing a final box aside, he sat up, closing the gap between them once more. Close enough that he could see the complete lack of imperfections gracing her features. "I'm okay." He mumbled bashfully, a hand reaching up to rub the back of his head where it had collided with the floor. "I was just...making sure Pasi has enough cleaning supplies." Eros frowned at the ridiculous line and was glad that none of the acropolis boys were here to witness his abysmal state. His chest moved heavily in and out as he looked at her. Now they were face-to-face, he was having great difficulty in looking away and would've refused to in any other circumstances. Finally he leaned in closer, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a quick, if somewhat awkward hug.

"Thanks for the help." Eros mumbled before standing up and brushing himself down. Why the hell did he feel so awkward? This was not what he was meant to be like. The god of love was meant to be well...charming, good looking, full of grace. "I- I have to go." He added before turning to leave, not daring to look at her again.

Psyche actually giggled a bit at the comment, not believing for a second he had been worried about cleaning supplies but it didnā€™t matter. She could have been more grateful for the happy accident because she was here, in front of him, able to see his face instead of his form running from her or just seeing the back of him as he refused to even look at her. As he leaned closer, the blush of embarrassment quickly shifted to something real, heat rushing through her veins and relishing in the embrace as she leaned her head softly on his shoulder, her hands gliding to hold him closer but he pulled away too quickly. She wanted to curse herself for giving into a simple hug and almost getting carried away. She watched him stand, about to tell him it was no trouble when the words caught in her throat at his next words.

She desperately scrambled to her feet, reaching out to grab his arm with shaky hands. ā€W-Wait! Do you really have to go? Canā€™t you stay even just for a little longer?ā€, Psyche asked, knowing that she was most likely setting herself up for failure but this was the first and maybe only time she would be in his presence again, to be able to touch him and see him if only for a moment. She had waited so long. She already cherished all she had gotten today butā€¦for once, she wanted to be selfish. She wanted to be near him. She knew everyone pitied her. She knew things like this were the reason. That she couldnā€™t take no for an answer. That they all thought she should move on. They told her he had. Psyche wasnā€™t an idiot, she knew he could have anyone and probably did. Why would he have ever chosen her if it wasnā€™t for that arrow? She had been a maiden everyone sought out to see but never to wed. Never to love. Just a person to be admired. Eros had seen her for her. He had been a change for her, pushing away her loneliness. He had made her a better person.
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Akayaofthemoon

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U n i n v i t e d
U n i n v i t e d

location: Hathorā€™s Home
interactions: Hathor | Ra
mentions: Tlaz@KZOMBI3



Hathor slowly shifted under the covers, something pulling her away from the tempting calls to fall back into sleep's peaceful embrace. She sat up slowly, the silken sheet and blankets pooling into her lap as she rubbed down her face with her hands, trying to remove the edge of slumber still present. She glanced out the window, practically wanting to groan in distaste as the first few rays of sunlight spilled in through her opened window. She cursed herself for not drawing the curtains closed, depriving herself of some much needed sleep after the rollercoaster that was the day before. It seemed she still rose with the sun now and then which was frustrating considering the occupation she had chosen but old habits die hard. Flinging the blankets aside, she stood up with a small stretch and made her way over to the window, fully prepared to shut the curtains before crawling into bed and hoping she was able to fall asleep quickly. That was until she heard something from downstairs. She paused for a moment, listening carefully to see if she heard another noise or if it was her imagination from the early hours mixed with lack of sleep.

At the confirmation that she heard footsteps and other noises drifting from downstairs, she moved more quietly, as if a panther on the prowl. Her footsteps were silent, careful and precise as she made her way carefully down the stairs. Whoever had dared to enter her home uninvited or was trying to steal from her had made a fatal mistake. She was not one to be trifled with and didnā€™t take kindly to those that disrespected her or her home. Hathor stealthily made her way to the kitchen, ready to grab a knife from the block to at least put fear into the mortal that had invaded her space but paused as she saw cleaned dishes on the drying rack, ones she knew for a fact hadnā€™t been used. It was then that she took a moment to realize that her kitchen smelled like breakfast, like someone had just been cooking not long ago. She swiftly grabbed the largest knife from the block, making her way slowly to the dining room when she found herself simply staring in shock. The mess and destruction of the dining room had been made spotless as if it had never occurred in the first place. The smashed dining room table, now was pristine and covered with different delicacies on serving trays but the thing that had her the most shocked, the reason why the knife in her hand clattered loudly to the floor due to her shaking, was the god sitting at the end of the table. Waiting for her as if he had been there all along.

ā€What are you doing here? How did you get in?ā€, Hathor asked seriously, trying to hold back a flood of rage at seeing him here. How dare he come into her home as if he was welcome?! She hated that buried with all the pain and hatred, she still felt that moment of her heart racing at seeing his face. That feeling that mortals called never forgetting your first love no matter the ending or how you parted ways. It made her sick. It made her angry. It made her feel weak. He had created her to be his wife and now, she desperately wished he hadnā€™t. She wanted no connection. She didnā€™t want any of the good times they had. She didnā€™t need a memory lane. Hathor officially wanted nothing from him and yet, here he was for some reason. She had had a peaceful existence without him and now he was back. Things never went well when it came to him in her life.

ā€œI wanted to see you.ā€ Ra said, in response to both of her questions, with a welcoming smile as he stood up. He was seated at the head of the new table. His suit jacket was neatly folded over the chair on the left of him. There was love in his eyes. A possessive love. ā€œPlease, sit.ā€ He motioned with one hand to the chair on a 90Ā° angle to the right of his. The only other spot on the table that was prepared with a plate. He remained standing as he held her gaze. It might have sounded like a request but it wasnā€™t.

An unpleasant shiver ran down her spine at his answer even with the welcoming smile attached to it, the lack of answer to the second question not going unnoticed. It really made her wonder how much she let him get away with things like this or if she had even noticed when she had been desperately in love. Her knees used to get weak with just that simple smile and she would have done anything to see it. Now, something told her to run but her feet wouldnā€™t move. She felt frozen under the weight of his gaze. Once the words were spoken, she knew very clearly that he wasnā€™t requestingā€¦it was a demand. Hathor stood debating, wondering how much hassle it would be to ignore his order and simply walked away. Instead, she chose halfway in between, testing the waters and seeing what mood of his she was dealing with. ā€And if I refuse?ā€, Hath questioned with a raise of her brow, holding his gaze from where she stood just as he was holding hers. She wasnā€™t going to appear weak. He had made her to be a queen so she would act like it, worry about how much this might crumble her later.

Raā€™s smile faded. It was replaced by nothing. A neutrality. Underneath all of that something was simmering though. His authority was questioned to his face. He walked around the table. Without looking he pulled the chair designated for Hathor from under the table sideways. ā€œPlease donā€™t be difficult.ā€ He said as he locked eyes with Hathor and brushed her hair behind her ear with one hand. He turned, and with one hand on the small of her back he ushered her forward towards the chair. ā€œLetā€™s just enjoy each otherā€™s company on this fine dawn.ā€ His smile was there again. Still, with that simmering heat underneath.

Her hands balled into fists, the urge to slap the god before her increasing the more he casually touched her as if she would be alright with it. She doubted he cared what she thought or felt though as long as he had his way. It had taken her a long time to figure those points about his personality out. She didnā€™t speak a word after her question, nor did she grace him with a smile in return as she moved with his usher, simply to keep the peace for now. Hath took a seat, staring at the plate before her, irked that he still knew her favorites and was hoping to have at least one thing to pick at instead it was perfect in a frustrating way. At least eating would mean she wouldnā€™t have to talk so that was at least a positive. She had no idea why he had decided her company was worth wild and hoped that he lost interest quickly or maybe that Isis would appear and turn his head once again, keeping his attention off of her.

A cheeriness returned to Ra as he took his own seat up again. Hathor had listened to him. All was once more good in his world. And because it was good in his world, it was good in the world. ā€œYou look radiant this morning, my dear.ā€ He said as he took a champagne flute. ā€œIā€™m sorry it took me so long to visit you again. Mortality ā€“ even this deceptive form ā€“ can be quite the coil.ā€ With his right arm he reached out and gripped Hathorā€™s hand. ā€œSo tell me, how have you been?ā€

Hathor calmly yanked her hand away, picking up her fork with the same hand to make it seem as though that had been the reason when it clearly was because she was done being played with and trying to be coiled around his finger. It was a game she did not want to be a part of. She took a few bites of her food, trying not to be hurt over the pet names or compliments that she believed were not meant or if they were, it was to inflate his ego in view of his creation. ā€No apologies needed. I have been quite content without your visits. In fact, next time a longer extended period of absence might do us a world of good.ā€, she stated honestly, jamming her fork a few times into the food for her next bite. ā€I do think it is an interesting coincidence though that you have not visited in all this time and chose to do so after two dead immortals appear.ā€

ā€œIt did made me realize I missed you.ā€ Ra said as he swirled the flute of champagne with a melancholic and introspective look. ā€œAnd it makes me sad to see you seem to claim you didnā€™t.ā€ He followed up and then look at Hathor with a look hinting at sadness piercing through the mask. Then it faded again.

ā€œOh my. It would seem that I made a mistake then by not engaging Heraā€™s invitation. Who died? I hope not one of ours.ā€ He said with a tone of surprise and almost shock as he leaned back in his chair. The acquisition was left ignored.

She felt a pang of regret for a split second at the melancholy expression before she had to dive deep to brush it off, not let herself be sucked in and remind herself that nothing and no one really hurt Ra or his feelings. The last thing she needed was him trying to play husband once more since she was already having a taste of it this morning and needed none extra or even a chance she might cave in. She was already debating on if she should move or get new locks on the doors. It helped her mind and nerves when he switched subjects, the god not knowing something was doubtful. He always seemed to have a way of knowing everything. Another avoided question or hint which made her all the more on edge. ā€Fortunately, no, the Egyptians are safe for now.ā€, she answered, taking a sip of her own flute and ignoring the question over which the victims had been. The less ammo he had in case he really didnā€™t know the better.

ā€œHathor. Look at me.ā€ Ra said with a sudden sternness in his voice. There was an intensity in his eyes again. ā€œWho died?ā€ He then asked, with the same steely, cold, stern voice that he used to draw her attention. He had been indulging her little rebellions. It kept him engaged and her interesting. After all, that is how he made her. Apparently though, she had difficulty understanding when to cease playing games. ā€œWho died? Tell me their names.ā€

She flinched slightly at the sudden stern tone, accidently jerking to look at him before even realizing she had done so but inwardly cursed when she had complied to his request out of shock in the sudden change. Hathor frowned, shrugging as she looked away and staring at her plate like it was the most interesting thing in the world. ā€Just two of the Greeks. How am I supposed to know who? I donā€™t really run in their circles.ā€, she snapped irritatedly. It wasnā€™t technically a lie, there were little Greeks that she was close to and one of the dead she hadnā€™t exactly known in any way and she technically hadnā€™t known one was a god and thus hadnā€™t known his name until after the parting. He couldnā€™t expect her to know or care but it didnā€™t mean that he might not push harder. She was regretting bringing up the subject at all. She decided to change tactics and looked straight at him before glancing to the glass windows the dining room overlooked, ā€Are you going to ruin our breakfast and this fine morning with such unpleasant topics?ā€

ā€œNo. No, of course I would not.ā€ Ra said. The comfortable, cheery demeanor returned as he leaned back again. ā€œBut you insist on it, it would seem.ā€ He continued a she swirled the champagne again. ā€œYouā€™re not a bad liar, my dear. That would make you boring. However, I did make you. I know you better than you know yourself. And I know youā€™re lying.ā€ Then he took a sip of the sparkling wine. For a second he was quiet. Ra was pondering over something deeply.

ā€œSo why did you lie, my dearest? Itā€™s okay. You can tell me. Iā€™m not angry, but I am disappointed.ā€

Hathor had to use every ounce of her composer not to look at the god next to her with disgust at basically saying he knew her better because he created her. A mother created a child and that didnā€™t mean she knew them better but no, there was no point in making an argument. She had to remind herself that she was different than before and he continued to refuse to see that. Hurtful or not, she couldnā€™t let him get to her. For the first time since his arrival she gave him a dazzling smile and sweetly replied, ā€Wouldnā€™t be the first time you were disappointed in me. I thought you would be used to it by now.ā€

ā€œAh quite the contrary my love.ā€ He returned with a more contained smile. ā€œI keep you in high regard. In the second highest regards of all, actually. Iā€™ll never cease holding you to my highest expectations. Even when you fall short.ā€

ā€œIt is a tragic affair though. For a divine to leave my realm so absolutely. Zagreus and Macaria will be sorely missed.ā€ Again he took a sip from the flute and pondered it. Then his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out, took a short look at it and put the glass flute down on the table. ā€œMy apologies. Duties call me away. This was enjoyable though. I look forward to our next breakfast.ā€

Hathor turned away from him as he spoke, finishing off her flute of champagne and trying not to pout or show her pure irritation. She wished he would hold her in less regard, actually just completely erase her from his radar and dub her a lost cause. He had no trouble disregarding and discarding her for Isis, why not return to that thought mentality. It took every fiber of her being not to crush the glass in her hand, as he proved her thoughts correct that he already knew the names and was toying with her. It was to show that she would bend to him and be the proper supportive wife that did as asked. She could have thanked the other person on the end of his phone for stopping her from opening her mouth with a snide comment and if she had known who they were, she might have kissed them for pulling the god away from her. The flood of happiness and relief was short lived however with the declaration of looking forward to their next breakfast. Hath felt shaky, trying to hold back a panic attack at the prospect of his random arrival again and having to endure conversation in what was supposed to be her safe space. She chose to stay silent, praying he would just get up and leave. She was at her limit of being civil and not resulting to violence which would probably ultimately not end well for her since it was still hard to rise against the one she had been partly designed to protect.

Ra got up and threw his suit jacket over his shoulders. Again he let the silence reign in the room, though he seemed utterly oblivious ā€“ or uncaring ā€“ to the tension in the room. At least, that was until he was about to walk around the table towards Hathorā€™s door.

He stopped behind her chair and put both his hands on her shoulders. ā€œOne last thing, my love. I know Iā€™ve been absent for a very long time and that your heart will always yearn for someone. You donā€™t have to wait for me all this time. You can find someone to warm your bed with during these cold and otherwise lonely nights.ā€ Then he leaned forward to whisper in her ear: ā€œBut always remember whose you are.ā€ He leaned further forward, and gave her soft kiss on her cheek before whispering one last thing: ā€œI love you, Hathor.ā€ After that he took his leave.

She sat perfectly tense under his hands, stiff and still as the panic began to swell and her skin felt like it was crawling. She wasnā€™t sure how she had ever relished and wished for his presence or touch in the past because right now she felt like a trapped animal, to be viewed and admired but still broken in a cage. His ego made him delusional and she wasnā€™t even sure anyone could set him straight when it came to her. He viewed her as waiting for him but in truth, she had trouble letting people close for fear they were just like him. A falsity under a mask of pleasantness. Of course she wanted to be loved and cared for but this wasnā€™t love. At least not what others had described to her. This was possession or obsession, maybe both. She didnā€™t know how long she sat at the table after his departure, the feel of his hands on her shoulders and a kiss on her cheek burning her skin.

Hathor finally let everything from that morning sink in, her breaths shaky and choked as she came back to reality, hugging herself close. She needed to get up, to move, to do something but she couldnā€™t move just yet other than curling into a ball on the dining chair. Tears spilled down her cheeks, fear and anger swam through her veins as she hated how helpless she felt in this moment. In a blind panic, she rushed to the front door, locking it even though she knew that would do nothing, it was a small bit of comfort. Hath rushed upstairs, snagging her phone and rushing to curl in the corner of her closet as she tried to calm her shaking hands to make a call. She couldnā€™t think straight, she needed someone she trusted. She couldnā€™t be alone. She would self-destruct as she always did and let Raā€™s words eat at her. She needed someone who would be on her side. It was early but she prayed the other would answer all the same.

ā€T-Tlaz, I need you to come over! Please! I canā€™t be alone here. He was hereā€¦I..please..please hurry.ā€ she cried in a panic, words flying and jumbling, not sure if half she said was understandable or even if she had given the other goddess a chance to talk or just talked over her.

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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by AlteredTundra
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AlteredTundra

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š“« š“® š“Ŗ š“¬ š“± š“¼ š“² š“­ š“® š“½ š“± š“® š“» š“Ŗ š“¹ š”‚
š“« š“® š“Ŗ š“¬ š“± š“¼ š“² š“­ š“® š“½ š“± š“® š“» š“Ŗ š“¹ š”‚

š˜š—¶š—ŗš—²š˜€š˜š—®š—ŗš—½ ā€” Late night
š„šØšœššš­š¢šØš§ ā€” Beach - Near Poseidon's Waterfront home
š¢š§š­šžš«šššœš­š¢šØš§š¬: Poseidon @metanoia || Phobos @Danvers
š¦šžš§š­š¢šØš§š¬ ā€” Athena || Hades || Zeus
ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…ā–…


Compared to the morning and afternoon that the God of the Sea had, the rest of the day proved to be an unfortunate series of events. It was after he returned home from spending a few hours with his old friend, Jormaangandr did Poseidon return home. It was then he received a personal visit from his niece, Athena. Not an unusual visit. Even in the days pre-fall, Poseidon never did have anything against his niece nor she against him. At most, they were at a neutral position and at least, mutual respect was between them. It was through that mutual respect when she told him.

His brothers children, Zagreus and Macaria, were dead. Slain by a weapon. She didnā€™t elaborate and Poseidon did not inquire further. He was not part of the team on the case, so it was not his place to ask for further details. Regardless, it was the fact that his brother had lost two children. His brother and his wife, Persephone, whom Poseidon felt pain for when Hades took her as his wife. Not pain for her but pain for her mother. This all grew more and more complicated for the God of the Sea because he had not been on the best of terms with Hades in a very long time. Long before Olympus. They both seemed to be screwed out of what was rightfully theirs: the head of the table, as it were. To be King of Atlantis.

But that was a long time ago. Poseidon, near the end of what he didnā€™t know was their last days of divinity, Poseidon grew weary of Olympus. Those last ā€œdaysā€ were more like decades and decades spent in the ocean.

Much like it was now. Poseidon was back at the beach near his house. It was night, so completely opposite of what his day started out, yet as he gazed upon the moonlit sky that reflected off of the water, he had to wonder: should he reach out to Hades? In all of the time that passed between them, Poseidon regretted never reaching out sooner.

As he pulled out his phone, oddly he had his brotherā€™s number. He kept his thoughtful gaze on the contact info. Just as he was about to hit the green phone, Poseidon heard a sound. A man grunting and falling forward about five paces to his right. The smell of expensive alcohol filled his senses and a shaggy mess of dark locks that Poseidon could see thanks to the glorious light of the moon. ā€œHey, are you okay--ā€ As Poseidon approached, thinking the man was a stranger, he wanted to help, but realizing who it was stopped him in his tracks momentarily.

ā€œPhobos? Is that you?ā€ In that moment, Poseidon still did what he originally planned on but with the knowledge that it was his great-nephew, he handled it with care. He didnā€™t touch the son of war, but heā€™d still kneel next to him. As the God of the Sea was on one knee, he simply asked, ā€œIs everything okay? How can I help?ā€

Phobos looked up at the sound of a soft voice, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to figure out if there were really two of the well-dressed man. He came to the conclusion that there probably was not. "You're not grandfather." He let out a low humorless laugh before stumbling to his feet, intent on continuing his slow progress towards the gently lapping waves. Even through the haze of intoxication, which was impressive as it took gods large quantities of alcohol to get more than a little tipsy, he could feel the uncontrolled fear radiating away from him. It had been for this reason that he was on the beach alone, any mortal who had even come close struck by a deep seated feeling of uncertainty and panic. No, humans did not sit well with fear, they never had.

"Grandfatherā€¦" He slurred as he continued walking, talking seemingly to no-one at all. "I have some bad news. Your grandson Eros is an asshole." He shook his head, curls falling in his face though he did not seem to notice. "Though who are we kiddingā€¦I'm an asshole too." Phobos smirked at this admission. "Maybe Deimos had the right idea all along. We should never have left the battlefield, that's where we belonged and taking us away, wellā€¦" The god paused, perhaps lost in thought or perhaps he had lost his thought.

The God of the Sea could only look on as Phobos rambled on. Did he even know that it was Poseidon here? It didnā€™t seem like it, but Poseidon didnā€™t want to startle him. Whether it was Zeus he saw or Poseidon, what the sea God would do is just be there for his grandnephew in whatever way he could. ā€œIā€™m sure thatā€™s not true. You are not an asshole, Phobos.ā€ Poseidon frowned, feeling as helpless as heā€™s been for most of his existence. Right now he could help Phobos, but he didnā€™t know how to. Yet. ā€œWhy donā€™t you walk me through what happened? What did Eros do?ā€ He asked of the son of war. He hadnā€™t touched his grandnephew in any form of support. That might spook him.

"Eros?ā€ The epitome of fear frowned, momentarily having forgotten he'd even been talking of the god of love. "Oh, him." A muscle in his jaw tensed at the returned thought of his brother. It was lucky for them both that he had taken himself away from Acropolis, yet the thought was sobering. Not sobering enough but still. Turning, he clamped his hands tightly atop Poseidon's shoulders, barely aware of how firm his grip was. "Tell me fine sirā€¦" He paused for a moment, trying and failing to ease off on the fear. "What would you do if your brother was an interfering, pompous, egomaniacal excuse for a god?"

For a brief moment, the old Poseidon surfaced as he chuckled. It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to think of his brother Zeus as such. As much as he was certain Zeus may have possibly changed, a leopard cannot change its spots. A snake can shed its skin but it still slithers. And Zeus may profess to the heavens he used to command that he was different and better, but he would still be the self-righteous clown that threw fits and stuck hisā€¦lightning bolt into anything that moved.

ā€œI know the type all too well.ā€ Poseidon spoke with a corrected, level headedness as he suddenly felt his stomach toss and turn, like he had suddenly come under an unexplainable uneasiness. He looked at Phobos, trying to understand what was happening. His Grandnephew was the embodiment of fear. So this was his doing. But why? What was eating away at him so much?

Wincing but powering through it, Poseidon kept his gaze on Phobos. ā€œI admit, I am not my old self. I have not been that person in so long, so I canā€™t tell you what he would have done. But, if such a person makes you feel soā€¦agitated, distance yourself from that person. You may become labeled a coward, but to be near such a person would only further your ire, Phobos.ā€ As he spoke, he could feel the uneasiness starting to quell, so that allowed him to think clearer and he couldnā€™t help but think about Zeus more. It wasnā€™t in a negative light per se. Poseidon could see Zeus wasnā€™t a total jackass. He was justā€¦ ā€œMy own brother is a plague on our kind, but I do love him despite all of his manyā€¦many faults. Itā€™s hard to deal with someone like that when you are currently under the negative effects of their doing. Putting space between you and him is the best thing to allow a clear head to prevail.ā€ Poseidon was drawing from his own experiences and how he handled Zeus. It was the best way he knew how to deal with the Almighty Asshole of Olympus, so perhaps Phobos could take it to heart.

Phobos listened to the advice, eyes glassy and unseeing, before offering a nonchalant shrug. "You're so silly. I'm not concerned about myself." He slung an arm around Poseidon's shoulders, drawing him closer as if he were about to impart some great and valuable secret. As if they had shared such back and forths many times before. They had not. "I'm worried about Mel..." He muttered softly, looking around for a moment, seemingly satisfied that the goddess was not going to just rise unbidden out of the sea. "She's moved into Acropolis y'know." A smirk crossed his face though he did not really find the situation funny and he stumbled for a moment, his purchase on Poseidon the only thing stopping him from falling.

Poseidon sat firm, being the pillar of support that Phobos so desperately needed right now. He must admit, though, hearing that Melinoe moved into Acropolis, the hilariously named party pad for Apollo and Hercules-led mansion, was partly amusing, given Melinoe was a child of Hades. A few times, Poseidon had attended his nephewā€™s party just to check it out. Poseidon himself often felt like he was still youthful at spirit. He could easily find his calling with those rambunctious younger Gods, but the fact was he preferred the tranquility of his waterfront home and the SS Atlantis. ā€œAre you worried she wonā€™t be well looked after by them?ā€ The God of the Sea asked his grandnephew. ā€œI know those at Acropolis areā€¦of a different breed - at least, by my more relaxed measurements. But Hercules is not his fatherā€¦for the most part. He is a good person with an even more admirable heart.ā€ Poseidon spoke with confidence that Melinoe should be safe with the Acropolis residents. Apollo was at least more level-headed than Hercules sometimes, so perhaps he could ring in Hercules should he get too wild.

Phobos grunted in reply, having been momentarily distracted by searching through his coat pockets. Finally, he pulled out a small flask. "She doesn't need anyone to look after herā€¦" He muttered sullenly, he could feel the edge of the alcohol wearing off and he didn't like it. "Iā€¦" He paused before taking a long swig, seemingly content in the knowledge that he was not going to imminently sober up. A couple had been wandering towards the beach from the road hand in hand, but as soon as they set foot on the sand a look of panic flashed across their faces and they quickly turned around. Phobos saw enough to glare after them before turning back to his companion. "I don't know." He finally admitted, unwilling or unable to admit how he really felt. "Whiskey?" The god added as an afterthought, holding the flask out towards Poseidon.

He nodded at his grandnephew, taking the flask in silent acceptance. While he was never a fan of whiskey because it was too harsh for his tastes. He much preferred the sweeter sensation of a spiced rum, but when in Seattle, you take what you can get. As he took a deep swig of it, he murmured as he swallowed. Surprised and pleasantly so, it was not so harsh. His nephew was certainly worse for wear, but his choice of whiskey was a good one. It went down smooth. Of course, there was still that aftertaste that burned worse than Hephaestusā€™ forge - but he did not mind it.

Actually, Poseidon took another, smaller swig of it before he handed it back to Fear. ā€œYou have a superb taste in whiskey, Phobos.ā€ Poseidon felt the need to acknowledge that particular elephant in the room before he went for the slightly larger one. His eyes fell on the sea, feeling something stirring in it though without direct contact, he could not tell for certain. And it was clear Phobosā€™ effect on him remained. ā€œI wish I could ease your pain. The most I can do is assure you that Melinoe, for everything I feel she might need at this time, perhaps you are right and she does not need someone to look after her, but having someone there for you even if you donā€™t think you need them is a comforting thought.ā€ He turned to face Fear, placing a comforting hand on the nearest shoulder. ā€œHercules, Apollo, and all of those who live in Acropolis interchangeably will do for Melinoe what I promise to do for you. Phobos, my door is always open.ā€ The God of the Sea spoke with as much sincerity in his voice as he could muster. ā€œI am not Anubis, so I may not be able to help you in ways he can, but no matter what, my doors will always be open. All you need to do is follow the waves.ā€ His gaze on his nephew was stern as he did not want Fear to assume it was for naught.

There it was again - a sense of something stirring in the sea, but Poseidon could not understand why it was calling to him now, of all times.

Poseidon's words were not familiar ones to the god. His own father had been intense and brutal on the battlefield, and this had not stopped after the fall. He expected more than Phobos was willing or Deimos was able to give. And in that moment, the earth-shaker showed him such kindness that Ares never had. His eyebrows furrowed, wanting to throw the words back at him but finally admitting defeat, let out a small sigh. "Thank you though I--" Phobos paused mid-thought, his gaze traveling to where the waves lapped against the sand. Rolling torrents of water flowed unceaselessly forward, nothing unusual...but something felt off.

His blue eyes narrowed, adrenaline coursing through his body and pulling his attention to the now. He would have moved forward to investigate if a sudden form had not begun to rise from the water. Tall and slight, but with well worked muscles, it came stepping onto the beach, a head of curly dark brown hair shaking back and forth akin to a dog after an unwelcome bath. Water droplets sprayed everywhere and it let out a loud laugh.

"Dude, that wave carried me so far out! Though I lost another board...Brad?" Triton paused to look around the empty beach, it slowly dawning on him that the beach was empty and Brad was nowhere to be seen. The former merman pouted, "Oh man, it happened again..." Had he really ended up swimming for so long? It had been so fun though. What a bummer.


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Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by Danvers
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š•½š–Šš–šš–“š–Žš–™š–Šš–‰ š–†š–™ š–‘š–†š–˜š–™?
š„šØšœššš­š¢šØš§. Pasithea's apartment
š¢š§š­šžš«šššœš­š¢šØš§š¬. Eros | Psyche | Isa
š¦šžš§š­š¢šØš§š¬. Anteros & Ares



"You want me to stay?" Eros replied, looking down at where Psyche had taken hold of his arm. It took all his concentration to keep his voice from trembling. Without warning tears suddenly sprung into his eyes again, spilling over onto his cheeks, hot and unbidden. He wasn't the type to care about such things and had shed more tears over the last two millennia than he had ever done before the fall, but that didn't mean he wanted her to see him in such a sorry state.

"Don't look at me Psyche!" He quickly yelped when he realized that he was crying, moving to cover her eyes with the palm of his hand. It was ironic that this was not the first time he had told her not to do so. As if looking at him would break some spell; that she would see the monster that the mortals had claimed he was. "Just keep your eyes closed for a minuteā€¦please." He blinked as he spoke, willing himself to adopt the light air of ease that he wore like a mask.

ā€Of course I do.ā€, Psyche answered as if it was the most obvious one in the world. She wasnā€™t sure why he had even needed to ask when she had ran after him for so long, this time being the only one she had even a chance of catching him. Shock and panic hit her like a freight train as tears spilled down his cheeks, making her wonder what she did wrong. Did he hate her so much that the hold on his arm or her wanting him around was too much? Had she forced him into a corner to finally tell her the truth? She was trying to think of words or something to say when a familiar phase hit her, stunning her for a moment before his palm covered her eyes with no chance to comply on her own. She waited like this, knowing that he needed this even if it ended the same way it had gone the first time.

She hated that he was in tears, her heart hurting as she just wanted to make it better. Psyche nodded softly at his next request, closing her eyes under his palm and trusting him not to flee. She carefully moved her hand up to the one covering her eyes, slowly pulling it away so he could see she had done as he asked before shyly linking her fingers with his own on the same hand. Her free hand shakily reached out, searching blindly in the air for a moment without her vision before landing just below his shoulder, fingertips brushing along the path of his shoulders to his neck, drifting upward to find his cheek and carefully wiping away the collected trail of tears that had fallen with her thumb. She kept her hand to his cheek, squeezing his other hand gently for support and reassurance as she spoke, ā€Please donā€™t cry.ā€

Eros blinked as she softly touched him, lingering tears shedding like autumnal leaves. "Iā€™m sorry, Iā€™m sorry, I'm sorry..." He repeated the words again and again as if they were a prayer that, if said enough times, would reverse the last two thousand years. He couldn't put on a persona in front of Psyche, he never had been able to. Her sweet, kind words washed over him like an embrace, comforting him in a way that no one else could. He leant into the hand that was cupping his cheek, letting out a slow breath.

What was he doing? Why was he being such a coward? With her here, it dawned on him that he had been an idiot. Well more than an idiot. He realized that this was Psyche he was talking toā€¦that even if she didn't love him anymore, she would break it to him gently. That it didn't make sense to run from her when she had only ever been her true, honest self with him. How shameful that he proclaimed himself a god of love.

"You can open your eyes." After several moments of silence he leant towards Psyche, whispering the words into her ear in a way that only a god of love could. Their hands still entwined, he felt whole for the first time since the fall.

She was grateful for their entwined hand for a bit of support, her knees feeling weak and her heart racing as her love whispered into her ear. Psyche let her eyes flutter open, leaning back a bit to gaze over his features, entranced by how handsome he still was even after fallen tears. She smiled brightly, a honey glow to her cheeks while feeling happier than she had in these last two thousand years. Psycheā€™s world felt complete with Eros near her. She could have stayed in the moment forever as long as they could just be together. For a second, she let herself get lost in the moment as if the time apart was a distant memory. She leaned her forehead against his own, the hand on his cheek gliding into his hair as she lightly played with the soft tresses. ā€Feeling alright?ā€¦, Psyche whispered softly, gathering up a bit of courage before continuing, ā€¦or do you want a kiss to make it better?ā€

Eros found himself smiling in return, a hand reaching up to pull her closer towards him. She smelt like freshly baked bread and sweet cherry blossoms, like the home they had once shared together. His sadness melted away, leaving only a sense of calm, before his green eyes twinkled mischievously at her words. "You should know better than to tempt me so, Psyche." Unlacing their fingers, his thumb moved to rub gently over her bottom lip. She did not seem to hate him and in this moment he truly believed that she did not.

ā€Has knowing better ever stopped me from trying, Eros?ā€, she questioned breathlessly, her bottom lip tingling from just the gentle touch alone. The temptation of her offer hovering between them had Psyche on edge, still wondering if he would accept it. She had already been bold enough to ask so was there really all that much stopping her from showing what she wanted. To show him without words how much she loved him. Psycheā€™s eyes drifted from their locked gaze to his lips and back as if asking permission or giving him a chance to stop her as she started to lean forward. Her now free hand softly gripped the belt at his waist side, fingers curling for leverage before giving a light tug, tempting him to step closer.

ā€œWho the fuck are you two?ā€ Isa said. She was standing in the dark bedroomā€™s door, balancing on one leg while holding a vase with both of her hands. The plants and water inside were already tossed out. She had her fatherā€™s intense look on her face as she readied herself to hit someone over the head with the vase. In her mind she had all the moves mapped out already. Neither of them looked like they could fight. They looked weak, frail. Not like the psycho she fought in the hotel room less than twelve hours ago. Though in truth she knew itā€™d be a short fight. Her brief lapse of consciousness had not nearly been enough rest. Still, sheā€™d be damned if she was going to be caught by surprise by two people who had the love language taken straight from a romance novel.

"Who are you? Eros shot back moodily, feeling a surge of irritation at the sudden interruption. His hand gently fell away from its place against Psyche's lips, head tilting in confusion as he glanced at the vase that she held clutched in her hand. Was she really wielding that as a weapon? What an odd person. Regardless, he didn't want her to suddenly attack Psyche so he gently pushed the goddess behind him, shielding her with his body.

"Oh wait..." For a moment the corner of his lip pulled up into a smirk and he looked eerily like the twins. It was not often that the resemblance between them was so striking. "You're the mortal right? How fun..." Normally he would take this opportunity to tease his new sibling but her impromptu arrival had rubbed him the wrong way. "But if you could kindly go away. You've interrupted something very important."

The smirk triggered a memory. For a split second Isabel wanted to smash the vase over this boyā€™s head and stab him in the eye with a shard. Just to make sure he couldnā€™t do anything. She stopped herself though. Again, he looked frail. He was a different sibling. ā€œYouā€™re Anteros.ā€ Isabel said as she lowered the vase. Her eyes went to the girl he was with. She didnā€™t show the same eyes as the psycho. Hers actually looked nice. ā€œAnd youā€¦ Pothos?ā€ Then her eyes immediately shifted towards the one she assumed to be her half-brother: ā€œAre you going to stab me?ā€

She peeked out from behind her beloved, staying where she was for a moment just in case of danger since she was not a fighter by any means before slowly joining by his side, wrapping her arm around his. She wanted to give the woman the benefit of the doubt though even with the sharp glances a moment ago and she had already overlooked the missed guesses to their identities. Did they really look that alike though? It was weird to instantly come to that conclusion right? She quickly shook it off, her head tilted in confusion, looking to Eros for a moment before glancing at the woman in front of them. What on earth had she been through to think they were going to stab her? Sure, Pasi had said a mortal daughter of Ares was hurt and resting but it sounded like it had been far more than just that.

ā€Oh um, Psyche, actually. Itā€™s nice to meet you.ā€, she answered, still blushing from the recent turn of events and being caught in a sense which was embarrassing. She had never really been great at control when Eros was around, losing herself and the world around her. Aphrodite and Pasithea had at least left them to their own devices, probably one from politeness and other from disgust but at least they hadnā€™t witnessed or interrupted in such a moment.
ā€And this is not Anteros but um, you are in the right ballparkā€¦.ā€, Psyche stated. While normally she might go on and introduce Eros, but they really had some talking they needed to do first sinceā€¦she was a bit confused on where they were at. Could she still call him her husband and introduce him as such? She didnā€™t want to chase him off or panic him with labels if he wasnā€™t ready or didnā€™t want them. ā€But, why did you ask if we were going to stab you?ā€

Eros huffed from beside Psyche, looking like a child who'd had his favorite toy taken away. "Maybe I should stab herā€¦" He mumbled petulantly, quietly enough that Isa would likely not be able to hear. He didn't mean it but he had always prided himself on his realm. On his beloved bow and arrows that had been able to strike a myriad of sensations into mortals and gods alike. It tugged at the vainglorious part of himself that Psyche was usually able to dampen so easily, and with a pout on his face, he strode over to his supposed sister. Grabbing onto her shoulders, he made to spin her around and redirect her into the bedroom. "Clearly you are an idiot so please go away."

ā€œNice to meet you- Wait. Psyche? As in the human- Hey!ā€ She exclaimed as she was spun around by her brother. Her slightly more lucid mind quickly figured out who was pushing her back to bed like someā€¦ little sister? For a quick second she melted. Family. Kind family. Well, kinder than the first sibling she met. Still, she wasnā€™t going to do what he wanted that easily.

She tossed the vase at the bed, making sure it would land safely, then jumped to the side, ducked and twisted around her brother to get behind him. ā€œYouā€™re Eros. If anyoneā€™s the idiot itā€™s-ā€ She said as she moved with an inkling of grace. That is, until ā€“ out of pure habit ā€“ she landed on both of her feet. A pang of pain, less than what she had felt before, shot through her and she dropped. ā€œFuck!ā€

Eros rolled his eyes at her sudden yelp but crouched down next to Isa, holding out a hand. "Let me help you up." He muttered. He didn't really feel like helping her but he hadn't missed the brief moment of vulnerability, or the yearning that seemed to be desperately flowing from the mortal.

Psyche put her hands on her hips, shaking her head at both of them. They were definitely siblings and were already playing stereotypes of acting annoying to each other and weakly insulting one another before even getting to know about each other. ā€Eros, you should know better than to startle an injured person.ā€, she scolded, knowing the feeling of disappointment at the interruption but he was acting like a pouting childā€¦and while it was impossibly adorable, it was not the time. She stepped forward, crouching down as well but let her love offer his help to get Isa off the ground since he was far stronger than her for support after all. Her decision also definitely didnā€™t have anything to do with wanting to watch his physique and flexing musclesā€¦not at all. ā€Are you alright? That didnā€™t sound too pleasant from the reaction.ā€, Psyche asked Isa in concern, trying to offer a bit of emotional support and showing they were both here for her.

ā€œNo! No.ā€ Isabel quickly said as she waved away Erosā€™ helping hand. With a small jump she managed to get her good foot under her again and slowly got up again, with one hand carefully leaning against the wall to keep her balance. Her father would disown her if he ever found her so weak she had to get up with help. ā€œIā€™m fine. Just a small wound. Itā€™s nothing.ā€ She then said to Psyche as she was clearly still balancing on one leg. No way in hell was she going to show weakness again. That would disappoint her father as well.

Once she got her bearing again she looked at the divine, and how they looked at each other. For just a second she felt absolute jealousy. No one had ever given her a glance like these two looked at each other. They were so clearly absolutely in love. ā€œI hope youā€™ve been here on earth as long as my father. We ā€“ mortals, I suppose ā€“ still sort of talk about your story. Itā€™s like Romeo and Juliette. With a happy ending that is!ā€ The jealousy, the yearning, It was getting a bit too much for Isabel. There was nothing she could do about it. Romantic love, like these two felt, she would never feel. She couldnā€™t feel it. Maybe that made her broken. Melancholy waved over her. Those thoughts would lead her down a rabbit hole that made her cry many lonely nights before. She didnā€™t have the privilege of breaking down like that right now. She still had a duty to carry out.

ā€œSorry, I have to go. I still have to find father.ā€ She said as she started to hop towards the living room. Though right before she went in she turned to look at the two love birds again. ā€œYou know, Iā€™m happy you guys are still together.ā€ And then she hopped into the living to look for her weapon.

Eros had been smiling gently at Psyche, but as Isa spoke his face fell. Each word hit him like a bullet, tangible and painful. They'd had a happy ending once but that had been ruined. He'd messed it up too badly, it wasn't going to work. It's too broken... The young deity scrambled to his feet, panic etched across his face. His heart felt as if it was about to burst out of his chest and he found himself being unable to catch his breath. It hurt too much.

He glanced at Psyche, still taken away by her beauty as he always was and always would be. But he knew she would never truly forgive him and he couldn't cope with that. "I-I need to go too!" He stammered as he backed away from her, moving quickly towards the front door before anyone could stop him.

Psyche barely had a moment to stand before she was hit with Isaā€™s kind words, her heart warming even if it was a bit of a reminder that they still needed to talk fully. If a stranger could see something between them then it had to still be there right? Even if they werenā€™t technically fully together at the moment right? She looked over at Eros when suddenly she felt her heart sink into her stomach, the smile fading instantly from her face at seeing that same look that was featured in many of her nightmares. It was the same one he gave her when they had first fallen and again every time his eyes landed on her before he left. ā€Donā€™t..ā€, she said barely above a whisper as her voice wouldnā€™t come out, choked up as she watched him back away before fully making an exit. It was dumb. She knew she appeared ridiculous much like every other time she went running after him. She couldnā€™t handle it again. Not after being so close. ā€Eros! Wait!ā€

She ignored the ladies in the living room, flying out the front door and letting it rudely slam behind her. She rushed to the elevator, cursing and slamming her hand against the metal sliding protector as it closed. Psyche quickly jabbed the button on repeat, ā€No, no, no, no, noā€¦, but it was to no avail as each was still headed downward. She quickly abandoned the elevators, rushing for the stairwell, sprinting and stumbling frantically as she dashed in a full blown panic. She ignored the sprained ankle, the pain in her elbow and hands when she had to catch herself multiple times on the stairs from a more serious injury. It didnā€™t matter if it harmed her, she would not slow down because she was determined to reach where she needed to be. The staff of the apartment looked at her with concern, startled by the commotion of her busting out of the stairwell and staring at the elevators in horror, noticing they were all headed up which means all of the passengers were already off.

Psyche frantically dashed out the entrance door, not even waiting for the doorman to politely open it for her. She looked back and forth down the street, gasping for air from her sprinting as well as full blown panic while gripping her hair in frustration. He was gone. He was right there. They had been able to touch. They had been able to talk. So close. So close. Her knees gave out, not even caring as they hit and scraped the pavement upon her collapse. Tears streamed down her face, her heart feeling broken and hollow as she gazed forward, blank and unseeing in front of her. Why? Why? What did she have to do? What had she done wrong? Why had she let herself be hopeful? She screamed loudly as if in physical agonizing pain with broken sobs, not caring if she looked like a two year old throwing a tantrum, not caring if she looked like a crazy woman to these onlookers passing her by on the streets, not even caring when the poor old man that just was trying to make a living opening doors tried his best to assist her. She didnā€™t hear any of it, letting herself for the first time in thousands of years feel the full force of her pain. For once, not being positive about the situation or optimistic. For once, not wishing to defend her husbands and just let herself be heartbroken.

ā€œMiss, miss? Are you alright?ā€

She heard the voice filter in, her hollow gazing turning to the poor man as he looked at her with concern and then around at a few onlookers that had stopped, gossiping a bit between themselves. ā€œWould you like me to call someone?ā€ He asked politely, trying to be nice even with the extra attention. She weakly shook her head, tears still streaming down her face and each breath hitching with effort to breathe as it felt like there was pressure in her chest. She stood shakily, ignoring the blood dripping from her knees and the pain that flared through them with her full weight. ā€œMiss, are you going to be alright? Can I get you a taxi?ā€ She gave a broken smile, shaking her head softly with a horse reply, ā€Iā€™ll b-be f-fine. Sorry f-for the inconvenience.ā€ That said, she stumbled away from the complex, not even bothering with her car and planning to get it later. She wouldnā€™t be able to drive anyway, not with the tears still bubbling and falling down her cheeks causing her vision to blur. She didnā€™t know where she was heading, just walking without a purpose. Psyche knew she should call someone to pick her up and have some emotional support butā€¦she didnā€™t want to pretend to be hopeful but she also didnā€™t want them to be mad at Eros. Her heart felt like a knife stabbed into the crumbled pieces that were left at just thinking his name, her sobs becoming stronger once again.
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Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by KZOMBI3
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KZOMBI3 ļ½”ļ½ˆļ½•ļ½‡ļ½‡ļ½™ļ¼ļ½Œļ½…ļ½—ļ½„ļ¼ļ½„ļ½…ļ½’ļ½…

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š–‡š–Šš–˜š–™ š–‘š–†š–Žš–‰ š–•š–‘š–†š–“š–˜
š–‡š–Šš–˜š–™ š–‘š–†š–Žš–‰ š–•š–‘š–†š–“š–˜

location: ???
interactions: Atlas & Medusa | Apollo & Artemis@smarty0114
mentions: Tsukuyomi@Fabricant451


It had been days since the incident at the Olympic Club. Both of them, as the other divines came to find out. Most of it had been swept under the rug in regards to the mortal populace, but there was only so much that could be kept quiet when dealing with the other gods.

Aresā€™ sudden disappearance had the others on high alert. Even caused for the most unlikely of beings to come together to locate him. What did that mean for those who werenā€™t born of war? Could they even pretend to be skilled enough to protect themselves? Were these fiends targeting only the Greeks? Were the other pantheons safe? Or was it only a matter of time before they too were singled out and made into a chalk outline somewhere in the streets of Seattle?

ā‹Šā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹‰


Seattle was filled with hiding places. Overflowing with them, even. Of course, it was easy to hide when no one knew what they were looking for, and until a few nights ago, very few outsiders had ever known of the group that skulked beneath the city.

Of course, the headquarters of this wicked band of immortals was not one of sewage water and filth. It was a lavishly decorated bunker, protected by steel walls and layers of concrete, hidden away by an unnecessary amount of security measures. As far as hidey holes went, it was quite a nice one.

Medusa had grown sick of hiding. She had been hiding all her life, first from bold men and their swords, then from hunters, and now from the very gods whoā€™d cursed her in the first place. The revenge sheā€™d nurtured was beginning to grow ripe, so ripe she could taste its sweetness on her tongue.

ā€œā€˜Dusa,ā€ Atlasā€™ voice stirred her from her thoughts, ā€œyouā€™ve got a new job.ā€ The titan sat down across from her, crossing his legs at the knee.

ā€œOh? Need me to run backup again?ā€ Medusaā€™s eyes ran up Atlasā€™ frame, and she smiled as he seemed to shiver. Even the great titan who held up the sky was afraid of her. Her and her eyes.

ā€œNo, this one's for you, and you alone. Cronus knows how much you love your goddesses. This oneā€™s not a toy though. We want her.ā€ Atlas produced a file from a jacket pocket and handed it off. Medusa opened it, flipping through the pages with a lazy nonchalance.

ā€œTsukuyomi. Interesting choice. What makes you think sheā€™ll take the bait,ā€ Medusa said, eyes now focused on the file in her hands.

ā€œShe wants her wife back. And sheā€™ll do anything to reach her. Sheā€™ll see things our way, I have faith.ā€

ā€œAnd what do I offer her besides? Power, and safety in the new world? This pantheon Cronus is building is growing awfully cumbersome.ā€

Atlas, ever the zealot, scowled. ā€œIt is not for you to question Cronusā€™ plans, witch. You do as you're told.ā€

Medusaā€™s gaze returned to Atlas, landing on his throat, and her eyes flashed a brilliant golden color. Suddenly, the titanā€™s neck was stone. He made an attempt to choke out words, but they would not come. He clawed at the marble that now made up his airways, and found no purchase. ā€œYou forget yourself, Atlas. I joined this cause willingly, and for it, Cronus empowered me. I am slave to no god, nor titan.ā€

The titan scowled, and Medusaā€™s eyes flashed, and his neck returned to divine flesh. ā€œApologies. I assure you, Tsukuyomiā€™s involvement will not lessen your power here.ā€

Medusa stood. [color=87a96]ā€œOh, Iā€™m sure it wonā€™t. Iā€™m much more useful than you, Atlas. Keep that in mind.ā€[/color]

ā‹Šā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹ˆā‹‰


Artemis had always thought that the air at Moon River felt fresher. Even all those years ago, when sheā€™d found it long before the mortals had, sheā€™d thought it crisper. It made for better walks and better moods, and it certainly made it all that more enjoyable to see Apollo waiting on the edge of the property, surrounded by her girls and stripped down to his underwear.

ā€œIs this really necessary?ā€ her brother shouted out at her, as she strode up. His clothes were lying on the ground, turned inside out by the guards, who held him hostage with sharp knives and sharper eyes. This scene was not alien to either sibling. Often Apollo demanded her attention, and often she responded like this. Like any sister, she did not appreciate having Apollo in her room.

Artemis took a moment to laugh, a light, breezy chuckle. ā€œNo, probably not, but itā€™s quite entertaining.ā€ā€ The goddess clapped, and the girls fell back. ā€œLeave me, girls.ā€ The guards turned and set out towards the compound, though not before leveling scowls at Apollo. ā€œI thought I told you not to come here.ā€

Her brother shrugged. ā€œYou did. But, Iā€™ve-ā€ He looked down at his clothes, then back at her. ā€œCan I put on my clothes?ā€ She smirked and nodded. ā€œAs I was sayingā€¦ Iā€™ve had some time to think about it, and I think youā€™re right.ā€

Artemis knit her eyebrows together. ā€œWhat the fuck are you talking about?ā€

ā€œWe should have a family meeting. To, you know, talk about our favorite, broody and devastatingly lethal brotherā€™s recent disappearance.ā€

ā€œā€˜Pollo, that wasnā€™t my idea.ā€

ā€œNo, but you can take all the credit if it goes wrong. And if it goes right, well, hey, Iā€™ll let you take half credit.ā€ Apollo slung his arm around his sister's shoulder, gesturing dramatically at empty air. ā€œCome on, family dinner, for old timeā€™s sake. And, also, because Iā€™ve thought about it, and I donā€™t very much want to die.ā€

ā€œYouā€™re about to ask me to be nice to father, arenā€™t you?ā€ Artemis did not need to be looking at her brother to know that his crazed grin had just fallen.

ā€œYes. Of course I am.ā€ Apollo released his hold and looked at her, a rare sincerity in his eyes. ā€œI wrote some stuff last night, Arty. Iā€™ve been trying to pay more attention to it, ever since Zagreus. It wasā€¦ dark to say the least.ā€ Apollo said, holding his hand to his heart like a boy scout pledging allegiance.

Artemis bit down on her bottom lip, worry breaking through her mask of calm. ā€œHow dark? Could this be like that time you thought all the computers were gonna shut off?ā€

Apollo scowled. ā€œI wrote about a man who dropped the sky, Arty. Who does that sound like to you?ā€

For once, Artemis was taken by surprise, if only for a moment. ā€œSet it up at Fatherā€™s place then. Tonight. Iā€™ll make some calls.ā€
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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Akayaofthemoon
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Akayaofthemoon

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location: Pasitheaā€™s home
interactions: Isabel, Aphrodite, Pasithea
mentions: Psyche, Eros, Anubis@metanoia



FLASHBACK


ā€œI-I need to go too!ā€

ā€œDonā€™t.. Eros! Wait!ā€

Isabel stood with her back against the wall, out of sight of everyone, as she eavesdropped on the love birds. At first, it was to satiate her guilty pleasure. Instead, her veins froze over. What was it that she said that made Eros suddenly flee? What happened? And why did she feel sad that whatever moment they had just a second ago had now crumbled away. Obviously, it was her fault. And there was nothing she could do to help Psyche. Again she felt useless. Worse than useless. She didnā€™t mind hurting people if it was with a purpose. Thatā€™s what her father had taught her. Yet now she had hurt ā€“ indirectly perhaps ā€“ Psyche at the very least.

She swallowed that guilt down as much as she could. It wasnā€™t the first time this sort of stuff happened. Maybe she was cursed by her brother? That thought felt cathartically comfortable. She let out a long drawn sigh and then stepped forward looking at least for Pasithea, whom she faintly remembered having taken her gun.

Aphrodite watched the drama unfold as the two past paramours rushed out the front door, a tinge of a smirk playing on her lips as she took a sip of tea. She didnā€™t want her son to suffer but it made her a bit proud to see his choices taking him in the right direction. She didnā€™t really have time to bother with their messy relationship though before the thought that her son abandoned her caused a bit of a frown. Now what was she supposed to do? She could call one of her other children but she was still hoping to give them a bit of a surprise. She hadnā€™t planned to stick around here either and Pasithea had been more than accommodating. This day was not going at all as planned and she was still worried about Ares safety as things kept being delayed. He was strong and could take care of himself but it didnā€™t stop her worry, not when it was the second of her family to be missing.

ā€Ah, there you are! How are you feeling, dear? Any better? I hope your sweet brother introduced himself before rushing away. Come, sit, tell me what your next steps are in finding your father.ā€

ā€œI nearly broke a pot over his head.ā€ Isabel said as she looked around, but she did so with a warm smile of a memory sheā€™d cherish for a very long time. Still, another of her few precious belongings was gone. Her gun was out of sight. What did Pasithea do to it? She opened a cupboard. Nothing. Then the gears in her head turned over. She popped her head out of the cupboard. ā€œHold up. You speak English!? I wrack my blood deprived brain speaking Greek to you and you speak English!?ā€ Isabel was only mad for a second before she realized some sort of God Divineā€¦ thing mustā€™ve happened.

She chuckled at the first comment, shaking her head a bit and feeling fond of the reaction as it reminded her of her darling Deimos. It seemed violence was always a first with their type, not that she minded. Strength and confidence had always been her thing and she was proud that her child embraced it. That soft smile instantly became a childish pout and a bit of cringe in disgust at the unsavory subject of her new language skill. ā€I didnā€™t speak English at that time. Now I do and I would rather not go into the how or why. Just be grateful and thankful that you no longer have to use your non native language., Aphro replied in a bit of a snippy tone as she loudly placed her tea on the provided saucer. ā€Just what on earth are you searching for that seems far more important than my direct questions?ā€

ā€œMy gun!ā€ Isabel exclaimed as she dove back into the cupboard. She didnā€™t feel particularly inclined to push the subject of Aphroditeā€™s new language skills. Again she rummaged through the cupboard, finding nothing but a suspiciously extensive tea collection. Really who needed this much tea in their lives!? ā€œWhere are you?ā€ She said out loud to no one in particular before she realized Aphrodite did not have the faintest idea what a gun was. She popped out of the cupboard again. ā€œItā€™s a weapon thatā€¦ fires small arrows very fast.ā€ It was a good enough explanation.

ā€To know another language, you have to have comprehension of the subject. I know what a gun is even if I donā€™t know how to use it. We are going to have to have a serious talk about you threatening people with it since I didnā€™t appreciate the new information that I was being threatened earlier this morning. That being said,ā€, she paused looking in the direction of the kitchen and calling out to their fine host. ā€Pasi!ā€, waiting for the small woman to peek around the entryway, her gaze set on the dark haired woman still roaming through the cupboards. ā€Isabel is looking for her weapon. Could you please return said item?ā€

ā€D-Do I have to? As much as I admire and care for you Aphroditeā€¦some of your children are not able to resist the urge of weaponsā€¦.I would rather not be shot today.ā€

ā€Donā€™t be silly my lilywhite! Isabel isnā€™t one of mine and my children are simply misunderstood angels. They know better than to hurt you. Far too delicate for such greetings and rivalries.ā€

ā€Debatableā€¦ā€

Aphroditeā€™s amusement paused, a serious look locked on the goddess of relaxation. ā€Pasiā€¦I am no longer asking. Return the firearm.ā€

Pasithea wearily looked between her two guests before biting her bottom lip before heading to the freezer, fishing it out of the back before returning to the living room and placing it on the coffee table. ā€Thereā€¦happy?ā€, she asked while nervously rubbing her arm and sitting as far away from the other two as possible. This has been a drama fueled morning and she was ready for it to stop. Her heart already went out to Psyche who she knew chasing after would be impossible while watching over these two. Eros really was a moron but she understood the fears when love was involved. Itā€™s why most had been afraid of Eros in the past. Why he didn't see that most would kill to have such a dedicated partner was beyond her. She thought if anyone would still be together it was those two. It made her wonder what luck the rest of them had.

ā€œYou put it in the freezer!?ā€ Isabel exclaimed as she rushed over (as much as she could without exerting her wounded leg) to the coffee table. She grabbed the piece and looked at Pasithea. In that moment she wanted to aim it at the goddess and pull the trigger. How dare she put her fatherā€™s gift in such a horrible place! ā€œAre you insane? You might have broken it!ā€ She exclaimed again. It had to be checked immediately.

She couldā€™ve taken a breath, put the gun down on a piece of cloth and disassembled it. Surely Pasithea would have a tooth brush she didnā€™t need anymore (and frankly Isabel wouldā€™ve just taken hers if she refused). It would take about fifteen minutes to check if the gun was alright. Orā€¦

With a press of a button and a flick of her wrist the magazine flew through the living for a second before Isabel caught it with practiced precision. She pulled back the slide, sending the chambered bullet flying before she caught that one between her two fingers. With her thumb she flipped off the safety as she aimed at a nearby window and pulled the trigger.

Click

Isabel let out a sigh of relief. The firing mechanism wasnā€™t frozen over yet. Then her ire could truly shine through at Pasithea. ā€œDonā€™t ever put my gun in there again!ā€ She yelled. There was real anger in her voice now. ā€œEver!ā€ She snapped again.

The bullet she put back in the magazine, she turned the safety on again, put the magazine back and chambered a round before she put it away in her pocket. The outburst had somewhat cooled her a bit. She sat down in front of Aphrodite then. ā€œI donā€™t really know where to go next.ā€ She admitted. ā€œI went to his hotel room cause I got a message saying that he was either taken or dead.ā€ She left out most of the other stuff the pre-recorded message had said. About how he was proud of her. She couldnā€™t believe that. Not right now when she was so wounded and useless.

Ares wondered why she stayed away from him and his spawn, this over the top reaction was exactly why. She already flinched at being called insane since olympus forbid she could care less about a weapon but the extra threats in her own home made her extremely uncomfortable. She felt nervous and fearful, trying not to have a full blown panic attack and also wanting this woman out of her home. She wanted her far far away from her. She wanted to run away or tell her to leave right now. If she was brave enough for the conflict, she still wouldnā€™t have for Aphroditeā€™s sake. It didnā€™t mean she liked it. Pasithea swiftly got up from the couch, quickly making her way out of the room as any plans to have any relationship with this ungrateful woman were quickly washed away. She had shown her that she was one of the untrustworthy ones, proving again that the loving and more Aphrodite type of children were the easiest to get along with when she had to.

Aphrodite herself frowned, not appreciating the coldness towards Pasithea who clearly had not known better. It showed the sides of Ares that had been a problem here and there with their relationship. It made for loneliness if not careful. She decided to let it go, planning to make it up to the sweet girl later but it was important to think of a way to help Ares. ā€Well, when one is looking for something, it is best to retrace your steps. When was the last time you saw your father? Obviously the hotel is the last place I saw him and that didnā€™t turn up leads. There might be someone that knew where he was going or at least a location of where to start.ā€

Isabel leaned forward. Her father found her in the hospital. Those two were dangerous. The one that tortured her was particularly vicious. Hathor, she was called? But her father walked out there without problems. Then they went to the shrink. He seemed to at least have a better rapport with her father. ā€œAnubis.ā€ She said while deep in thought. After that things were more blurry. She ran and apparently her father bumped into an old flame. But after that? He was in a hurry as well. Clearly, he had his own troubles as well. What was going on? Did someone get killed? Or had someone disappeared before? He was tracing something for sure.

All of it was too much thinking and too little doing. ā€œWeā€™re going to visit the shrink.ā€ She decided. He would at least be amicable to helping them. Or so she hoped. The doctorā€™s friend wouldnā€™t. That was for sure. Isabel rummaged in her pocket, pulled out her keys and tossed them to Aphrodite. ā€œYou should go try out the car.ā€ She said. ā€œI still have some things to say to Pasithea.ā€

That name, it felt like it rang a bell, like a distant memory but she didnā€™t have time to think on it before she talked about visiting the shrink. That was definitely anā€¦interesting place to start. She wasnā€™t one to question Ares methods but that seemed a strange place to start on the trail. Why had they seen a shrink? It just caused a bit of a concern. She caught the keys before she even registered that they had been thrown, looking down at her hands and her mind scanning over the thought of the car. She now in theory at least knew what it was and how it operated but doing something and knowing something were two completely different things.

ā€Alright, Hun. Donā€™t have to tell me twice.ā€, she nodded, standing up and heading over to the front door, pausing for a moment as she opened it. ā€Word to the wise, Pasithea is a fragile and soft soul but while she is related to Aresā€¦he is not her favorite. She is not one for violence which tends to be a side of those with his blood in their veins. Donā€™t get me wrong, my children are perfect but not everyone can handle that. Donā€™t break her. Be careful with your words, Isabel. This one is under my protection.ā€, Aphroditeā€™s words were deadly serious as she glanced back at her with a stern look, one that even Deimos might be proud of before that dazzling smile reappeared. ā€Donā€™t be too long!ā€, she added before making her way out the door and to the elevators.

The mortal didnā€™t respond but the message was crystal clear. When Aphrodite left she pulled out her gun. It looked unharmed. Only the safety was preventing it from firing now. She put it away again and began to look for Pasithea. The goddess wasnā€™t too easy to find. She wasnā€™t in the kitchen or the hallway. Eventually she opened the bedroom door without knocking: ā€œYou here Pasithea?ā€

ā€W-What do you want?!ā€, Pasithea asked with a clear fear stricken voice, scrambling off her bed on the side as far away from Isabel as possible. She had heard the front door close, she had thought they had finally left but now she was in a panic having to be alone with his child. Why would Aphrodite leave her? Sure, she tried to be pleasant with the children they had but she hated being alone with them. This one wasnā€™t even Aphroditeā€™s child so she had no idea what she was dealing with and instantly thought the worst after a moment ago.

Isabel let out a small smile when she saw the goddess. She took a deep breath, took out her gun, and put it on a table, hiding it behind a vase from Pasithea. The smile turned sheepish, then a little worried. ā€œI just wanted-ā€ She said, then stopped. ā€Nobody ever-ā€ She stopped again. ā€Youā€™re the first to-ā€ Again she stopped. Frustration was growing. None of the things she wanted to say came out right. It all sounded too selfish, too pathetic, or too fragile. She tried again. ā€œI didnā€™t-ā€ Stop again. Frustration grew. ā€œYouā€™re very-ā€ Stop again. This was getting too hard. Shooting, putting up the act in court, that all came naturally. Speaking like this in a perfect way was impossible.

So she snapped. ā€œYouā€™re the first of my family to help me!ā€ She blurted out extremely fast, fearful she might swallow up the words again. Then she pressed her lips together. This was unfamiliar territory. It made her fearful. What if the goddess snapped back, throwing her words back with venom? After all, Isabel had snapped at her first and hadnā€™t been very kind herself. ā€œAndā€¦ I just wanted to sayā€¦ thank you.ā€ Every word was dripping with uncertainty and it was horrible. So she quickly added: ā€œEven if you did it only for Aphrodite.ā€ That made sense to Isabel in the moment. Of course, she did it for another goddess, not for her. The stitches, the rest, it was a favor to the goddess of love. Not to her.

Pasi felt fear, panic, and confusion which only grew with each failed attempt at speech from the other woman across from her. She gripped the bottom of her shirt nervously, just waiting for Isabel to say what she needed to say which would make her leave sooner. When she snapped, she flinched but slowly took in the words that were said with complete shock. Well, somewhat shocked since she didnā€™t know all of who Isabel had met yet but it felt weird to be thanked. Actually, it might be one of the first times someone of the Ares bloodline had thanked her for anything. It kinda felt wrong. No, scratch that, it felt really wrong. So much so she really didnā€™t know how to react and what to say at first. She probably looked like a fish out of water, opening and closing her mouth. ā€Y-Youā€™re welcomeā€¦ā€, Pasi started, biting her lip and shuffling her feet a bit as she nervously went back to twisting her shirt. ā€F-For the r-recordā€¦it w-wasnā€™t just Aphro. I-I mean, itā€™s a big part b-but what kind of relaxation goddess would I be i-if I didnā€™t help someone through a s-stressful time.ā€

This feltā€¦ nice to Isabel. It was very unfamiliar but not necessarily bad. ā€œMaybeā€¦ I could come back someday?ā€ She sheepishly said. Then she caught the sight of the gun in the corner of her eye. It was hidden from Pasithea but Isabel could feel its stare. This was nice but unearned. She wished dearly she could stop and get to know Pasithea better but her father was still out there. So she took a deep breath, pushing down all these feelings of happiness and kindness. This was not the time for this.

ā€œAfter Iā€™m done.ā€ She added as she reached and grabbed the gun. Its steel was cold and uncaring to her touch. Her entire demeanor had shifted again as she raised it up and looked at it. She could not stop now. ā€œFirst, I have a few things to do.ā€ She put the gun back into her pocket and turned towards Pasithea again. Somehow she stood a bit taller now and looked a lot more confident again. ā€œThanks for stitching me up. I can keep going now. I hope I get to see you again.ā€ With that said she left the goddess of relaxation.

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Hidden 2 yrs ago 1 yr ago Post by sly13
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sly13

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ļ¼¦ļ½ļ½”ļ½ˆļ½…ļ½’ ļ¼¤ļ½ļ½•ļ½‡ļ½ˆļ½”ļ½…ļ½’ ļ¼“ļ½‰ļ½ļ½…

š„šØšœššš­š¢šØš§. Hadesā€™ house
š¢š§š­šžš«šššœš­š¢šØš§š¬. Hades & MelinoĆ« | @KZOMBI3
š¦šžš§š­š¢šØš§š¬. Phobos. The Acropolis Crew. Mac & Zag. Persephone

Time ceased to exist. At least thatā€™s what it felt like. As if the day continued on and on for months already. Long conversations, short ones. It went by too slowly, or all at once, never seeming to make up its mind as if her beloved grandfather still had a modicum of power and was seeing fit to torment her as well as the others.

ā€œWhy did it have to be them. They were just coming back to us, to everyoneā€¦ā€ the running question of the day. Well, the most important one at least. MelinoĆ« was doing everything in her power to focus on anything but whatever was going on between her and Phobos. The best answer she came up with of course was the deaths of her siblings. ā€œAnother reason for mother and father to fret about,ā€ the laugh that left her lips was gargled, smelling of whatever expensive liquor she was able to swipe from the Acropolis before storming off the grounds and aimlessly making her way through dark streets.

It was comforting. Truly. Something so akin to natural that she could come close to all these millennia later. Wandering through fog, surrounded by her retinue of spirits, searching for those who needed atonement the most and in the worst kind of way. A shiver ran up her spine at the memories. Instead, as she turned this way and that, the Bringer of Nightmares found herself alone. Quietly, drunk and utterly alone. Not something she wanted even if that was the aura she exuded.

With her continued stumbling and mumbling to herself MelinoĆ« looked up to find herself standing at the foot of a pathway leading up to the large estate before her. Shrouded in shadows that didnā€™t stem from the night surrounding it. It was a familiar place, screaming of warmth and reaching out to try to pull her into an embrace. She just scowled at it instead. The neglected half truths of her own mind pushed her back into movement, urging her feet towards the back of the home where a fence stood. With all the grace of drunken swan, the daughter of Death effectively made it over the barricade, bottle still in hand, and plopped herself in one of the many seats there on the patio.

Relaxing back into the seat, bottle hanging from a loose grip, time continued on. She wasnā€™t sure how long she was there for, mind wandering and racing, taking trips through memories long since passed. Zagreus, so charming and free. MelinoĆ« remembered him as the Golden Child, he who could do no wrong. When he was born it was as if wars ceased and everyone came to bestow boons and gifts and favors to him in the hopes that his powers of rebirth would look on them favorably. A scoff escaped her before she tipped the liquor bottle to her lips and drank once more. ā€œYou were well loved by all, to have tortured you soā€¦ā€ She sniffed, a bite to her lip, tongue flicking out across to whet them, ā€œThey were never forgiven, I never forgot, she wonā€™t go unpunished either.ā€ Macaria though, she was more timid of the spotlight on her. While Zag basked in it, Mac was natural with it all. Whether she did something worth praising or not, there she was, standing in the light, soaking it in, smiling her shy, radiant smile. Blessed Death was better than the alternative and there was no one more fitting for the role than Macaria. ā€œTaking on the sins of the world was too heavy for your delicate heart sister.ā€ She was always so tender-hearted towards everyone. Mel felt that most didnā€™t deserve her sisterā€™s sympathy.

MelinoĆ« didnā€™t even hear the sliding of the door, the well designed shoes on concrete padding towards her. If she did she made no move to indicate so. In that moment, with everything that had happened she didnā€™t care for self preservation. At least thatā€™s what she wanted to feel; her internal desires did not outweigh her hardwired nature. Madness seeping out of her inebriated form completely on its own accord, tendrils whirring about seeking a target lest they turn on her. And who was to say they hadnā€™t? Not until she heard him, sensed that the threat wasnā€™t a threat but just him, did the madness dissipate back into the shadows.

Hades made his way around to the front of the second patio chair taking a seat next to his daughter, placing two coffee cups down on the small table between them. ā€œThis might help a bit.ā€ He turned his gaze towards the large garden that took up most of the backyard to their home. While Roses populated the majority of the garden, the massive maze of flora was home to just about every form of plant life one could imagine. It had become a sort of tradition of sorts that every house they would move to Hades would move the heavens and the very earth itself to ensure Persephone had her garden just as they did before. Though he had no actual talent for the skill of gardening he did enjoy the view that it produced, it was a nice change from the usual dark and drab that he so often surrounded himself with.

ā€œYou know, you're welcome to use the front door next time.ā€ As he finished speaking he lifted the mug up to face hiding the soft smile that was plastered across it. ā€œUnless of course you enjoy hopping fences with such grace.ā€

She couldnā€™t help grinning herself, releasing a bark like laugh, short and sweet, into the silence of the world around them. ā€œOh, it was graceful was it?ā€ Where most children would have been mortified to know that their father had not only caught them sneaking onto their property but to witness their less than flattering attempt to hop a fence, MelinoĆ« just nestled further into her seat bottle of booze emptied and tossed off to the side. Taking the warm mug between her hands she muttered a small ā€œthank youā€ before sipping the bitter drink.

Silence encased them once more. Just the two of them watching as the world came to life once more, as it did every day the sun rose and bathed the earth in its light. It wasā€¦ different, being here with him after so long. It wasnā€™t like the two spent an absorbent amount of time with one another. Not like they used to. Nothing was like it was before, more so now that Mac and Zag were gone. Physically shaking the thoughts away from her mind MelinoĆ« spoke softly cutting into the disappearing fog. ā€œRememberā€“,ā€ she stumbled over just the words, a stinging pain prickling behind her eyes but a broken laugh on her lips, ā€œRemember when Macaria was crying because her flower didnā€™t look like mamaā€™s?ā€ her quiet tears were choked into another laugh.

ā€œOh I remember alright. Her crying echoed off the walls for the whole of the underworld to hear.ā€ Hades smiled as he reminisced on the old memory of his children and wife. ā€œPoor thing wouldn't accept that she had a different flower then her mother.ā€ He let a small laugh escape his lips as he thought about the argument he had with a child over why the flower looked different. ā€œShe got so mad at me she stormed off with a pout and stomped her little feet with every step. She only got about 15 feet before she realized she wasn't allowed out of my sight and so she just sat down and continued to pout.ā€

Hades turned his head over to his daughter and offered a smile as he continued. ā€œI'd say that might have been one of the hardest springs the underworld ever had. You kids nearly drove your old man mad before Persephone was able to return. Lord of the underworld and god of the dead, but you little titans only listened to your mother half the time.ā€

She laughed once more at the memory. ā€œIt wasnā€™t hard,ā€ a cheeky smile graced her features. ā€œIt was justā€¦ different.ā€ Silence once more enveloped them for a time. The world around them came to life with the dawn of a new day; it was serene. Almost peaceful. Macaria was definitely with them at the moment. Words wanting to be spoken aloud though she couldnā€™t find them. How was she supposed to offer comfort to her father? He wasnā€™t a mere mortal or a lesser god and therefore MelinoĆ« was at a complete loss for how to handle the situation.

A melancholy swept over her once again, ā€œHad I been more present in their lives maybe this wouldnā€™t have happenedā€¦ā€ The words were spoken though not intentionally. It wasn't in her repertoire to speak such weak thoughts into existence; only made her look useless in her eyes.

Hades instinctually snapped his head to the side grabbing his daughter's hand squeezing it before speaking. ā€œDon't ever say that.ā€ He spoke firmly but filled with the love only a parent could have. ā€œDon't ever blame yourself for what happened to them. It wasn't your fault in any sense of the word. Look at me. Your siblings loved you very much just as I know you did for them. You all had your own ways of showing it, but of course you didn't really have the greatest role model in that regard.ā€ Hades thought of his own relationship with his brother before looking deep into the now teary eyes of his daughter and could see the pain and guilt she was holding within. ā€œYou are strong beyond words MelinoĆ«. And I know right now it feels like the pain and sorrow will never go away. And it probably won't, but tomorrow it will get a little easier to muscle through it. Then a little easier the next day and the next after that and so on. But for right now let out all those emotions you have bottled up in. I wont think you are weak and no one else will see beside us two. I'll even leave and order no one back here if that would make it easier.ā€ As Hades finished he continued to look Mel in the eyes doing his best to comfort and reassure her.

Here she was, a daughter of Death - the last child - goddess of madness; overcome by grief and sobbing into her fatherā€™s arms. She didnā€™t know when she had gotten out of her chair but she had, throwing herself to her knees to just cry into his embrace. Screams of anguish muffled, refusing to disturb the beautiful new morning dawning. MelinoĆ« would allow herself this comfort. She would release it all out now, like he suggested. For when her tears dried and the screams were all but echoes on the wind she would rise and bring forth all the madness in the world onto her siblingsā€™ killers.
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Hidden 2 yrs ago 2 yrs ago Post by AlteredTundra
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Flashback - Morning after the events at the Luncheon
]š„šØšœššš­š¢šØš§. Anubisā€™ Home
š¦šžš§š­š¢šØš§š¬. Hera@smarty0114 | Ares@Legion02
š¢š§š­šžš«šššœš­š¢šØš§š¬. Anubis @metanoia, Aphrodite @Akayaofthemoon, Isabel @Legion02



Despite the rays of the multifaceted and benevolent morning gracing the world and the City of Seattle with her brilliance, something that, under normal circumstances, brings Anubis some semblance of peace or even a rebirth of oneā€™s mood (as it typically did), he couldnā€™t say that was the case now. And this is for a myriad of reasons, but something was in the air and it had been since before first light.

Last night was an unorthodox night for the Guider of Souls. After returning from his private time spent at Illicit, Anubis received a call from an associate that nobody in their right mind would refuse. Ares, the Greek God of War asked a favor of his and he happily obliged. It was to see a human woman by the name of Isa. Their session was fine, or as fine as Anubis confidently could feel. Truth of the matter was that it went in a direction that he hadnā€™t expected.

Revealing their existence to someone outside of their species. Anubis had tried to ease her, but that wasnā€™t exactly what happened. He gave Isabel answers that only he could. Pensive as he was about it, how she reacted wasā€¦understandable, yet it plagued him well into the night. By 3am, he finally slept with the aid of one too many melatonin tablets, but he woke up just three hours later to a series of text messages on his cell phone. A series of texts that were from a former patient, sexual partner, and general bane of the entire Egyptian Pantheonā€™s existence.

Nooby Nooby, how I missed youuuu

We should play again soon! šŸ’‹
From Apep


There have been very few to ruffle the nonexistent hair of his mane, but that chaotic serpent goddess, the technical queen-adjacent of his pantheon, somehow to always get under his skin regardless how much distance he put between them.

For the hours that followed, Anubis had gone out of his way to block out all of these feelings, but that one text was just the icing on the ominous feeling he had. Not even his famous shakshuka shook that overall unease. He only consumed half of it and had downed two shots of his preferred coffee of choice, which was Cuban coffee. Strong as it was, one just wasnā€™t enough.

As he finished the dishes, he heard a knock on his door. A series of knocks, actually. In the back of his mind, he feared it was Apep. She would be the type to text him and then show up at his condo as if nothing happened between them the last time they saw each other. With a deep sigh, wearing only his bed gown - a deep brown-colored pajama-like gown that he found comfort in that covered all parts of his body except his collarbone and slit down the middle in the shape of a V that went down the middle of his pectorals - and a pair of expensive and comfortable fluffy slippers, he opened the door after the third round of some urgent knocking.

ā€œSorry--ā€ Anubis spoke as he was opening the door, only to find two women on the opposite end. Both of whom he knew, but one in particular immediately brought an unknowing smile to his face. ā€œIsa?ā€ He questioned, blinking a few times as he wiped his eyes free of dust. His eyes scanned the human woman for a few seconds, gauging her face for any clues to explain her presence here. ā€œAndā€¦Aphrodite?ā€

Okay, Anubis was officially confused. Given the state that the human daughter of war had left his condo last night, he didnā€™t expect sheā€™d willingly come back, much less be in the company of a Goddess, especially one soā€¦infamous like Aphrodite. ā€œBeen a long time, Aphrodite.ā€

To say Aphrodite reflected Anubisā€™s internal confusion would be a massive understatement. It was clear that this God knew her but her mind wasnā€™t supplying any recollection to this extremely gorgeous face which in itself should have been a sin to forget. She gazed into his eyes, the windows to oneā€™s supposed soul and found a familiarity in them, a kindness which made her feel soothed and created a feeling of safeness but still nothing was clicking. It was only when she drew her eyes downward to take in the rest of his appearance that a smile graced her lips at the sudden recognition, sliding into his personal space, hands gliding over the exposed skin of his chest, reaching upward to rest them his jawline. ā€That it has. Quite the new appearance you have, Anubis. It suits you.ā€, Aphro purred, admiring the Egyptian jackal in a new light.

They had always been friendly when pantheons were mingled in the past before the mess of her slumber and the fall but she wouldnā€™t mind being even friendlier now. She had always enjoyed the view of his physique, wondering how nice those hands would feel against her form and what he could do with those muscles but unlike Zeus, animal forms were not quite her cup of tea which had left friendliness and light-hearted flirting she did often to others. This was a positive difference. A very positive difference. ā€I hope we didnā€™t interrupt anything important, but we require your assistance. Isnā€™t that right, Isa? ā€¦May we come in?ā€, she asked, briefly glancing over her shoulder when addressing the other woman before ignoring her once more, leaning closer to the God before her, lips lightly brushing against the shell of his ear as she continued with a whispered tease, ā€Or do you need some convincing?ā€ She grinned with a cheshire grin that might have put Bast to shame, pulling completely away to give Anubis some space once more.

ā€œWe shouldā€™ve gotten you some clothes.ā€ Isabel groaned to herself as she rolled her eyes at Aphrodite who stepped up closer to the Egyptian god. She just raised a curious eyebrow at whatever the goddess was whispering. Well, she could garner a guess. Promises of tangled bedsheets and shaken worlds. ā€œAnubis.ā€ Isabel cut through it all. Her tone was not playful like Aphroditeā€™s. There was an insistence in it. ā€œWe do need to come in. Itā€™s important.ā€ She said, her eyes were burning as the hollow sense in her chest was growing again. For every minute she wasted finding her father he could be bleeding out somewhere. Some pleasantries would have to wait.

Anubis had frequently enjoyed the playfulness of others, especially that of Aphroditeā€™s unique way of teasing, but he could surmise that the half-mortal, half-divine woman did not share the same sentiments (as noted by how quickly and abruptly she cut the Greek Goddess of Lust off). He saw the way Aphrodite reacted to it, but he understood and just nodded and stepped to the side, letting both women into his condo. As he closed the door, he guided them both to his living room. Isa would remember it well as it was the same area of his home that she had her session.

As Aphro sat down and Isa chose to remain standing, Anubis also kept his vertical base. ā€œBefore we begin, could I interest either of you something to drink? Tea? Water? Perhaps something stronger?ā€ At that last offer, his deep gaze went to Aphrodite. He remembered how much she enjoyed the unique blend of spices and fermented grapes that was the Divine version of Egyptian wine. Strong in its alcohol content, it was a pleasurable experience on the palette.

ā€Something stronger is always welcomed, especially with the current situation.ā€, she smiled softly. She might have seemed relaxed and unworried compared to Isabel but one of her babies was missing and to know Ares was also missing was extremely concerning. She didnā€™t know who to lean on without causing more concern. When she had no one else to turn to, she did what she did best by showing nothing was faltering or affecting her. It might be silly to some but it had gotten her through many times when she felt like giving up completely or crumbling.

ā€œCurrent situation?ā€ Anubis inquired. He could make an educated guess that something in the air was troubling. Not even eight hours removed from when Isa had darted out of his condo after their session, he could tell she was in even more distress than she had been. ā€œAllow me to get you some wine, Aphrodite. And Isa, I will get you some chamomile tea. Perhaps it will help you. It will just be a moment, I promise.ā€

And in five of those moments, Anubis came back to his living room area with a tray that had three glasses on it. Two glasses of a deep purple wine that was imported from Egypt, something that Anubis had been quite fond of for the longest time and a hot but not too hot cup of chamomile tea for Isa. ā€œI put a sprinkling of honey in your tea, Isa. I understand it might be hard, but if you can, please at least drink it. Many of my patients find the flavor of Chamomile to be quite relaxing.ā€ Anubis said as he sat, though he wasnā€™t sure if Isa would take him up on the tea. Regardless, it was there if she wanted it. ā€œNow tell me what happened.ā€

ā€œMy father is gone.ā€ Isabel didnā€™t touch the tea. She didnā€™t need to feel relaxed. If she did, she wouldā€™ve stayed with the literal goddess of it. No, right now she had to be tense. She had to be razor sharp. ā€œAnd he didnā€™t leave like before.ā€ She quickly added. Her father did have a tendency to leave her alone for months on end. But then heā€™d always come back. She pulled out her phone and showed Anubis the video message her father had left her.

The message was straightforward: Ares explained that if she received the message that he was either captured or killed. He explained that there is a family secret he carried around and gave Isabel a handful of names ā€“ mortal names of the Olympians ā€“ who would explain that secret. The message then began to stutter. The audio cut out. By some cosmic maleficent chance it appeared that the video had been corrupted somehow. Only a few words could be understood: proudā€¦ loveā€¦ angerā€¦ release.

ā€œI couldnā€™t understand anything at the end of it.ā€ Isabel said. Hearing her fatherā€™s voice gave her a sense of melancholy. Normally ā€“ in a situation like this one ā€“ she wouldā€™ve called him already. She had called him. Over a dozen times. Normally he wouldā€™ve answered fast. Not now. And it made her feel a little more alone. ā€œI need to find him, doc.ā€ She said to Anubis. It wasnā€™t a demand. It was almost a plea.

Anubisā€™ own expression grew tense, matching the severity of what had been eating away at the Daughter of War. Itā€™s true that Ares was a mysterious individual, but in his time of having past dealings with the Greek God of War, Anubis always had this impression that he was one who stuck to a schedule. This clearly exceeded that routine and, if he was being absolutely earnest, it was frightening. Often, Anubis felt a certain grief when life was lost. Yesterday he felt that loss when those children of death were slain.

ā€œThis is truly dire, Isa. I am truly sorry. But one thing I can tell you with absolute certainty is this.ā€ Anubis leaned forward to give her his full attention. ā€œI know your father is not dead. Something about myself, as well as I believe all those of us whose domain is the domain of death, I know when life is lost. I feel it in my heart and in my soul. I become overtaken by an unexplainable and outworldly melancholy that no mortal could possibly fathom. I felt it yesterday morning. About this time yesterday, but I have not felt it since.ā€ But what troubled him more was those last words. What could they mean? ā€œPlease, if you take comfort in anything, let it be that your father still has a chance of being saved fromā€¦whatever may be responsible for his sudden disappearance.ā€

The words of the Egyptian were pretty and Aphrodite hoped that they were in fact truths and not a way to calm the pacing child. If it wasnā€™t true, she didnā€™t wish to know for fear of what that meant for those she cared for and if it was true, then she almost desperately wanted to ask what sense he had about Pothos. Her hands tightened around the almost polished off glass of wine, the usually exotic spices would be savored on her tongue but she couldnā€™t find a moment to fully appreciate it. It was a shame that it took so much more for immortals to feel the buzz she most definitely craved. Heck, there were quite a few ways she would like to be distracted from the nerve-wrecking anxiety of the unknown.

ā€Isa stated that the last place she saw her father was here. We were hoping that perhaps he shared his agenda with you or that you might have any ideas of where we can search next. He said something about the Festival when he was explaining what happened yesterday but I donā€™t know where that is or even what it is to be honest.ā€

Anubis could sense there was an atmosphere of dread between both Aphrodite and Isa combined. Naturally both had a certain investment in making sure that Ares was safe. Isa was his daughter and Aphrodite was the mother of several of his children. Anubis, too if he admitted it to himself, wished to see Ares' safety if not for the sake of the two women in front of him.

Looking between the both of them, though his immediate gaze fell on the Goddess of Love. "Regretfully, I cannot say with certainty where exactly. When Ares came here last night, he did so to leave Isa here with me. He was supposed to be back by 2am, but he never showed." Though Anubis wanted to respect the privacy between him and Isa's session last night, he knew to be as helpful as he could, he had to provide, at least, the bare minimum of why Ares was here in the first place. "You mentioned the festival. As I understand it, there was a luncheon held at the Olympic Club yesterday. Perhaps it might be a long shot, but could it be possible that's where he went? I admit, I had prior engagements yesterday so I couldn't make it myself, but I felt the events as if I was there to bear witness to the passing of our own." Anubis stared at the glass of Egyptian wine in his hand, staring down at it with a profound sadness in his eyes and on his face.

Aphrodite set her glass down and moved to Anubisā€™ side in an instant, taking his free hand gently into her own while her other hand rubbed his thigh gently since she was not sure how else to comfort him. She couldnā€™t imagine what it must be like to have death affect you without even being present for the events. The emotions once told of the event, sure, but to feel it as though bearing witness sounded like a painful sadness. It was a look that reflected in his eyes and it didnā€™t sit right with her. She wished she could fix it. Instead, she turned her attention to Isa for a brief moment before stating, ā€Even if it is a long shot, I think the Olympic Club could be worth a try if we can manage to get access.ā€ Her focus then switched back onto the God beside her. ā€Iā€™m sorry that you had to experience their passing in such a way. Death was never my forte and has not been one of the major qualms of my life but if you ever wish to talk, I would be happy to listen when the timing is more appropriate., she said softly, giving his hand a squeeze. ā€For now, I really must thank you for providing a lead but by chance do you have an address or know which Greek owns the establishment? I can only assume with the naming that one of the brilliantly creative members of my pantheon owns it.ā€

Anubis gave Aphrodite a small smile, one that was bleeding with graditude and gave her hand a light squeeze in return, acknowledging her gesture and her compassionate words. He was appreciative of them, as well thankful for them. His abilities, even long since before the fall, was a heavy burden for him to bear but he always did so with a positive outlook on the unfortunate passing of souls from this realm to the one he one day hopes he may return to himself. Death was not the end of a journey. As the Guider of Souls, he not only believed with every fiber of his existence, but also as a man of Earth, that even without deities to control the passing of these lost souls into their respective afterlifes, he had to believe something or someone was still at play. He couldnā€™t entertain the notion that this wasnā€™t the truth. His entire belief system depended on that being absolute.

He shifted gears away from the melancholy of what consumed his mind for a few moments onto what the Greek Goddess of Love asked, almost musing a laugh in response but he remained composed. ā€œI regretfully donā€™t know who owns it, but I do have the address. Hera, your pantheonā€™s queen, as I understand it, was the one who hosted the Luncheon yesterday. She wasā€¦very thorough. Made sure everyone who should have attended had the address and I still have the envelope it came in, though that might not be necessary as I memorized it.ā€ Anubis reached for the table in front, grabbing his notepad that rested on it with a pen attached to it. He wrote the address of the Olympus Club on it, tearing the piece of the pad that had the address on it, and handed it to Aphrodite.

Isabel moved like a cat to snatch the piece of paper from Anubisā€™ hands. She knew a token when she saw one. And while the good doctor probably didnā€™t intend to trade for it, she wasnā€™t in the mood for whatever games Aphrodite and him would play with that piece of paper as a prop. ā€œWhatā€™s Heraā€™sā€¦ mortal name?ā€ She quick asked as well as she started looking at the address with her phone.

ā€Of course she hosted it, practically screams Hera a mile away since she has a need for control.ā€, she snickered at Anubis comment leaned back against the couch, crossing her legs and adjusting the uncomfortable coat material against her skin. She had been about to receive the address to pass to Isa since she was better at directions but it seemed the woman had other plans. ā€Rude.ā€, Aphro muttered with a roll of her eyes at the snatched paper from her fingertips, letting the incident slide but still moving to rub her temples. Why did it have to be Hera? At least it wasnā€™t Athena but it still wasnā€™t good in any case since they had always had a rocky relationship, the golden apple mess had not helped with the Queenā€™s jealousy and irritation at her.

She gave a side glance at what was Heraā€™s grandchild and wondered if the knowledge of her existence would outweigh the Queen of the Gods hatred for herself if they needed to speak with her. It would be wise not to further upset Hera with the knowledge of Ares' disappearance but sadly, as a mother she did have the right to know and might have connections. It felt like a double edged sword and if it wasnā€™t for her own baby missing, she would suggest to Isa that they part ways here but she wasnā€™t sure that was a smart idea. Maybe she could just convince Isa to remove that factor all together unless they got caught. She grabbed her glass, tapping her fingers against it to keep her hands busy as she spoke, ā€Do you really need her mortal name? Perhaps we should just avoid her and focus on the task at hand.ā€

For the moment, Anubis had just realized just how deep the Greek drama went, how much there was to it. Anubis had sworn to himself he wouldnā€™t ever become too entangled in their family drama, but that part of him that always felt like he needed to help those who were in need of it - the empathetic side that always led him down some very dark, melancholic periods - never shied away what made him visibly uncomfortable. ā€œIsa, unless this is related to the situation at hand, Iā€™m afraid I canā€™t divulge that information, for it is privileged information. Even for someone who is asā€¦infamous as the Queen of Olympus, she is entitled to her privacy.ā€ In truth, something about the way that Isabel was acting, the change in her demeanor, he couldnā€™t put his finger on it, but it was unsettling. His first instinct was to let his purple smoke calm whatever it was that pained Isa, but he couldnā€™t do that without her permission.

ā€œUnless it is related?ā€ Isa said. She felt herself getting angry. ā€œMy fatherā€¦ her sonā€¦ vanishes and you sit here and talk about privacy?ā€ It hit a nerve with Isabel, who was ready to do just about anything to get her father back. Someone elseā€™s privacy did not matter at all right now. But she couldnā€™t lash out now like she did before. This anger, she had to focus it. So she closed her eyes for a second and took a single deep breath. ā€œI got what I need then I suppose.ā€ She said. The tone in her voice was unnaturally cold after the outburst. But it wouldnā€™t take a therapist to recognize the internalized anger.

It afforded her a dangerous clarity of mind. The guide of the dead had given her all he could at the moment. In fact, he gave her more than he expected. Sure, he would not divulge the name but he linked her to an event. A little social engineering could pry the name from the Club when she visited. ā€œThank you, Anubis.ā€ She said as she got up. ā€œIā€™ll take my leave.ā€ The tea remained completely untouched.

ā€œOf course. I apologize that I couldnā€™t be of any help to you, Isa.ā€ Anubis let it show on his face through a gentle smile that hid a mind that was analyzing Isaā€™s subtle change in her demeanor. Even as he watched the demigoddess leave his condo and the door closed behind her. He understood, at least on some level, that she was likely holding something closely resembling a grudge against him because he didnā€™t divulge Heraā€™s mortal name to her.

With a sigh and he leaned back against the couch. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. An immense disappointment overwhelmed the Guider of Souls. Not just in himself but because he couldnā€™t bring himself to help Isa in the way she wanted him to.
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